At first glance, it’s a peculiar scene: a maypole in the middle of winter.

I don’t think any of us had grown up feeling like art was something we could approach. Graffiti, silkscreen and maybe Disney were for the likes of us. But the stuff in museums, that was for kids in John Hughes movies or people who lived in New York. Not us.

There is an audible gasp as each person walks into the room. Conversations started are now cut off. Footsteps soften. Although it is not a church, there is a sense of reverence in this space. In this room there is sanctuary. 

"When so many conversations on race build in tension or altogether end, Thomas’ work expands the story, giving it space to breathe and soar."

I don’t think any of us had grown up feeling like art was something we could approach. Graffiti, silkscreen and maybe Disney were for the likes of us. But the stuff in museums, that was for kids in John Hughes movies or people who lived in New York. Not us.