Alton Sterling: Deconstructing a Murder | A System and My Brush Under Fire
On July 5, 2016, the world stood still and watched a piece of itself die on concrete in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Alton Sterling, a man selling CDs to survive, was executed. Period. His murder wasn't a tragic 'incident'; it was a flashpoint, a horrifyingly clear image of a police system broken by design and soaked to the bone in the toxic legacy of white supremacy.
This is my article. This is my painting. This is me saying this to you.
The Synopsis: A Life Stolen by Systemic Design
Alton Sterling was 37. He was on his back, subdued, pinned down. The officers, Blane Salamoni and Howie Lake II, went in hot, responding to a phantom threat. They didn't de-escalate; they amplified the terror until his life was gone.
Let's not get lost in the weeds of the anonymous 911 call or the gun in his pocket. The truth is simple: when a Black man is on the ground, struggling under the weight of two armed agents of the state, his life should not be forfeit. His death is proof that the system isn’t broken; it’s working exactly as intended: to maintain control through the threat and reality of violence against Black bodies. The lack of accountability, the qualified immunity, the immediate defense of the officer, that’s the whole machine speaking. It tells us that for some, the uniform is a shield, and for others, the color of their skin is a target.
White Supremacy is the Blueprint
We can’t discuss police violence without talking about white supremacy. It’s not just the blatant, hate-filled acts we see on TV. It’s the invisible hand shaping policy, training, and perception. It's the silent assumption of criminality placed on a Black man selling music.
This systemic bias is historical. American policing emerged from slave patrols, it was designed to monitor, control, and terrorize Black people. This history isn't over; it's the foundation we're standing on. When I look at Alton Sterling's murder, I don't just see two officers; I see centuries of institutionalized fear and hatred culminating in a fatal discharge. White supremacy is the cultural blueprint that makes it permissible for agents of the state to view a Black man selling CDs as a threat worthy of annihilation. His existence was an inconvenience, and the system authorized its removal.
A Critical Analysis of the Painting: Alton Sterling
Now, let's talk about the art, my art. It's titled simply: Alton Sterling. The name of the victim is the statement.
When I approach a subject this heavy, I don't reach for realism. My voice is defined by the monumental, spiritual scale of ancient art forms, from Mayan to Ethiopian, fused with my love for graphic design. Every single line is freehand painted, raw energy transferred directly from my soul to the canvas.
Look at the piece, Alton Sterling.
The Color and Figures: The aggressive yellow is the false light of day under which this horror happened. The flat, corporate blue of the officers is intentionally soulless, representing generic, cold authority. The figures themselves are stylized, geometric agents of the state, drawn with sharp angles that give them a terrifying, monolithic power.
The Geometric Shockwave: Notice the officer on the left, pushing that geometric shockwave into Sterling’s back. That isn't just a bullet; that is the kinetic, freehand depiction of the state's entire force, the training, the bias, the history, collapsing onto one man. They used a stun gun first; why did they need to go lethal with an unarmed, outnumbered man. These are visual metaphors for the crushing weight of systemic oppression.
The Central Figure: His mouth is open, a wide, silent geometric shriek. He is contorted, conveying raw agony and vulnerability through that simplified, powerful form. His dark, earthy brown color grounds the figure in humanity under duress.
The CD Circles: These are crucial. They’re small, easily missed, but they are the entire world of the piece. They are the artifacts of a life ended over a non crime. It’s a designer’s move, a small symbol holding massive meaning, grounding the monumental violence in the mundane, tragic reality of survival.
This painting is not merely a record; it is an indictment. It’s my way of cutting through the noise and saying, "This system is a beast, and its favorite food is us."
I’m here. I’m painting. And I refuse to let the world forget.
