Guinea Coast, Ghana, Asante, 19th century
cast gold, hammered, Overall: 7.00 x 7.60 x 1.60 cm (2 3/4 x 2 15/16 x 5/8 inches). James Albert Ford Memorial Fund 1944.290
Location:
108C Akan & Yoruba
Shared by different Akan and Akan-related peoples, including the Asante and Baule, gold ornaments indicate status and wealth and are worn at public festivals by titleholders, chiefs, and kings. Most pectoral disks are suspended over the chest by a white, pineapple-fiber cord. They are owned by the okra, a young official who purifies the chief’s soul--hence, the name akrafokonmu, meaning "soul-washer’s badges" or "soul disks."
Asante Gold - http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/a/asante-gold/
http://www.artwis.com/articles/golden-emblems-of-maternal-benevolence-transformations-of-form-and-meaning-in-akan-regalia/
https://africa.si.edu/collections/view/objects/asitem/Objects@13720/10/title-asc?t:state:flow=174f9d66-58f0-43bd-835b-cb06f4eef4b1
From the looks of the practiced chicken scratch I took the time to sit, write poetry, and an observation that runs at length of several pages. For those of you who have read me over the years, you may recognize the free verse. Below resides the original text without editing. Enjoy.
Watching my moon rise
Krakonmu. Moving across
the sea. Mark my passage
to further shores. Another
dusk. Twilight eyes. Bashful
winters out of Autumn late
violent. Mastering another
season. Cardinal reign
tween the soul of water.
Krakonmu watching my moon
rise. Spiraling tundra through
the air. Rolls of Japanese
clouds. Buddha's mist whispers
of torrential rains. Krakonmu
possessor of kinsman soul
violent blue blush.
Moving across an ocean of sound
ridiculous lessons of things to come.
I'm not sure what I feel or what
I want to feel anything
in the middle of the museum.
Will the shuffling
ever end. I'm tired of me/ or
at least on the verge there of.
Something to write somewhere
to gaze. Anything and everything
Much more to this and any
other. Love is incipent around
corners and in binds. My
art of love bleeds for you and
another day. Between lament
and the pain lies another
passage deep and strong
living for a day, a moment
strong enough to sweep
you away into another time.
As ever, stay hungry and curious.
©N.A. Jones 2017 All Rights Reserved