When we speak of abstract art as a language of freedom, few voices resonate as powerfully as Alma Thomas. Her vibrant color fields and rhythmic patterns transformed nature into a symphony of joy and transcendence. For me, her work was not just an influence – it was a catalyst for creating Primal Elemental Abstraction (PEA), a philosophy and method that seeks to channel the raw forces of creation through instinctive, organic expression.
Alma Thomas: A Legacy of Color and Rhythm
Alma Thomas broke barriers as an African American woman in the mid-20th century art world, redefining abstraction through her signature mosaic-like brushstrokes. Her paintings were inspired by gardens, sunlight, and the infinite beauty of nature. She believed that art should uplift the human spirit – a belief that echoes deeply in the foundation of PEA.
Thomas’s approach was rooted in harmony and repetition, using color as a universal language. Her work reminds us that abstraction is not chaos; it is order born from intuition, a dance between structure and spontaneity.
From Gardens to Elements: The Bridge to PEA
Where Alma Thomas found inspiration in the patterns of flowers and foliage, Primal Elemental Abstraction turns to the elemental forces – earth, water, fire, and air – as primal sources of energy. Both approaches share a reverence for nature, but PEA expands the dialogue into a cosmic dimension, exploring how these forces shape existence and identity.
PEA is not about rigid geometry or predictable repetition. It is about surrendering to instinct, allowing brushstrokes to mimic the flow of rivers, the surge of flames, the whisper of wind. In this way, PEA honors Thomas’s celebration of organic beauty while forging a new path toward elemental resonance.
A Continuum of Black Abstract Innovation
Alma Thomas opened doors for Black artists in abstraction, proving that cultural identity and modernist aesthetics can coexist. PEA continues this lineage, weaving Afrocentric and Afro-Futuristic narratives into its visual language. It is a reclamation of abstraction as a space for ancestral memory, spiritual depth, and cosmic imagination.
Why Alma Thomas Matters to PEA
Her work taught me that abstraction is not an escape – it is a return. A return to the essence of life, to the rhythms that pulse beneath the surface of reality. Alma Thomas showed that color can heal, that pattern can speak, and that art can be both deeply personal and universally resonant. PEA carries that torch forward, illuminating new realms where primal energy meets artistic freedom.
When I began writing The Ledger and the Crown, I wanted a universe that could sing. Not just with plot and spectacle, but with a deep structure – a cosmology that organizes sound, light, ethics, and collective memory into a living system. Ancient Khemetic (Egyptian) cosmology offered exactly that: a way of seeing creation as balance, rhythm, and elemental force. In my practice as an abstract artist, I call it Primal Elemental Abstraction (PEA). In my fiction, it becomes the heart of a civilization built on resonance, transparency, and communal will.
Why Khemetic Cosmology?
Khemetic cosmology understands creation as an ongoing act of harmonizing opposites – order emerging from primordial waters, balance as a lived ethic, and energy as song. This is more than myth; it’s an organizing principle. In The Ledger and the Crown, you’ll see it articulated through:
Ma’at (Order, Balance, Truth): The “transparency covenant” of Waystation Prime echoes Ma’at – truth as governance, harmony as infrastructure, accountability as energy.
Nun (Primordial Waters): The idea of the Unbroken Chord begins here – creation rising out of a formless field like a note emerging from silence.
Ka (Vital Force) & Resonance: Movement stewards in Chapter One guide the crowd’s energy; bodies become instruments; the station itself hums at C-sharp – all of it expresses vitality as frequency and community as chorus.
By rooting the series in Khemetic thought, I’m not borrowing aesthetics – I’m building systems. Systems where culture is the technology, ethics power the grid, and ritual becomes public policy.
How This Fits Afrofuturism
Afrofuturism isn’t escapism; it’s continuum. It insists that African-diasporic memory and philosophy are engines of innovation. In this frame, ancient cosmology is not “pre-modern” – it’s meta-modern, capable of informing how we design cities, networks, and narratives:
Memory as Infrastructure: The public Ledger in the story functions like a communal archive – history that powers present choices.
Harmony as Governance: The Festival of the Dual Suns isn’t entertainment – it’s a living audit, a public rehearsal of togetherness.
Dissonance as Catalyst: When a hostile signal introduces a B‑flat outside the chord, the society responds not with panic but with resolve. Afrofuturism asks: What tools does a culture have when harmony fails? The answer: ritual, rhythm, and community action.
By integrating Khemetic cosmology into Afrofuturistic sci-fi, The Ledger and the Crown asserts a future where ancestral knowledge is not erased – it is amplified.
Why the AmaZulu People Matter in This Vision
The AmaZulu are not just a cultural reference – they represent resilience, sovereignty, and a living philosophy of communal strength. By weaving AmaZulu heritage into The Ledger and the Crown, I affirm that Afrofuturism is not a monolith but a constellation of African identities, each contributing unique epistemologies to the future.
Resonance with Khemetic Thought: Both Khemetic and AmaZulu cosmologies emphasize balance, ancestry, and the sacredness of communal will. Where Ma’at speaks of harmony, AmaZulu traditions speak of ubuntu – “I am because we are.” This principle becomes a structural ethic in my series: governance as interdependence, technology as a tool for collective thriving.
Narrative Implications: AmaZulu influence shapes character arcs and societal frameworks in the story. Rituals of breath and song echo ubuntu’s relational ontology, while the defense against dissonance reflects a warrior ethos – protection of the whole through disciplined unity.
Artistic Bridge to PEA: In my Primal Elemental Abstraction style, AmaZulu philosophy informs the earth element – grounding, rootedness, and ancestral continuity. It appears in textured layers, rhythmic patterns, and chromatic choices that evoke soil, shield, and lineage.
Including AmaZulu heritage is a deliberate act of cultural sovereignty. It resists flattening African identity into a single narrative and instead celebrates multiplicity – because the future we imagine must be as diverse and interconnected as the past we inherit.
The Bridge to Primal Elemental Abstraction (PEA)
PEA is my art philosophy and method – a commitment to the elemental forces (earth, water, fire, air) as structural languages rather than decorative motifs. It rejects rigid grids for organic flow. It celebrates texture, rhythm, and emotional resonance. Here’s how PEA maps to the series:
Water (Flow & Origin): The sync in Chapter One is a tidal act; breath moves like currents; voices join like confluence.
Earth (Weight & Foundation): The keystone lattice and the station’s hum are grounding forces; ritual drums function like tectonics.
Fire (Signal & Transformation): A clear G note ignites the chord – then the dissonant B‑flat tests the system’s integrity.
Air (Breath & Clarity): Oath‑breath signatures turn respiration into record – air becomes archive.
In both painting and prose, I’m composing with frequency and form. PEA’s visual language becomes the series’ sonic architecture. The same instincts that guide my brushstrokes – pressure, release, counterpoint – guide the worldbuilding and the way scenes “breathe.”
Methodology: From Studio to Storyworld
My process across mediums follows a shared methodology:
Sensing the Field: I begin with a hum – what I call the carrier tone – the foundational frequency of a piece or chapter. In a painting, it’s the underpainting wash; in writing, it’s the motif (e.g., transparency, resonance, breath).
Composing the Chord: I layer elements in counterpoint – color against texture, rhythm against silence, character agency against communal will.
Testing the System: I introduce dissonance deliberately (scratches, unexpected harmonics, narrative fractures) to surface the work’s truth. What survives is the Unbroken Chord – not perfection, but a stronger harmony forged through tension.
Public Ritual: I design for engagement – paintings that read like ceremonies; chapters that operate as civic rehearsals. Art and story become spaces where audiences practice balance, witness truth, and breathe together.
Kwanzaa Preview, Past Exhibitions & Upcoming Installations
Kwanzaa 2025: I’ll release the Chapter One preview and a mythic Book of Origins excerpt for The Ledger and the Crown. Expect ritual, resonance, and the first fracture that tests the Unbroken Chord.
Shifting Seasons (JCAL, through Dec 7, 2025): Works from Abstract in Color: Voices on Canvas and Art Is Life explore PEA’s elemental dialogues.
New Installations: Watch for a PEA-informed, multisensory installation concept that translates the series’ cosmology into space, sound, and light.
Call to Action
Join the Chorus: Support the series and the art via the new GiveButterfundraiser. Donations help produce the Kwanzaa preview, studio time for the PEA collection, and the installation prototype.
Subscribe: Get early access to chapters, studio notes, and behind-the-scenes process breakdowns.
Collect: Explore one-of-a-kind PEA originals – no prints, just paint – each piece a portal into the cosmology.
