And this is a sequence for--
I'm from Charlotte, North Carolina,
in the middle of North Carolina.
It's the biggest city.
But it's named after Queen Charlotte,
who is the wife of Mad King George who lost the colonies.
But she was from Germany, and she was an anti-war person,
even though she was the queen, but--
[CHUCKLES]
There's a portrait of her that I grew up
looking at in the Museum of Charlotte.
And she has some African heritage,
and I didn't know that until I grew up.
From PBS, I found out.
[CHUCKLES]
But I looked at the portrait, and I saw the different things
about her features.
There's a lot of different portraits of her,
you can see different interpretations of her face.
But this is called, "A Crown for Charlotte."
And it's in progress.
And it's got a quote by Romare Bearden,
who was a Charlotte native.
The great collage artist, Romare Bearden.
"You have to go back to where you started to gain insights,"
he says.
We made a special trip in a yellow school bus
to visit your likeness, Charlotte of Mecklenburg.
Your palanquin parked near your portrait six-feet
high, yet not life-sized.
You can only decode a painting if you get close to it.
Sleeve like a lacy cauliflower, furled and unfurled.
You are unmistakably regaled as a queen.
Fingers tapered purple, blue dusk like shadows.
Standing pained a portrait next to your Mad King George
not yet.
Queen Charlotte, circa 1762.
Portrait by Alan Ramsay Scottish, active in England,
1713 to 1784.
Quote, "these coronation portraits
were painted for the British embassy in Paris.
Numerous copies of the portrait were shipped throughout Europe
and the American colonies.
These images helped establish and maintain
political and social power for these monarchs.
They reflect a long history of portraits
used as pictorial instruments for control,
in which the image of the ruler stands
for the power of the office."
In the American colonies, Ramsay's sumptuous style
was considered overly dramatic and out
of touch with American life and philosophy.
In the colonies, most portraits were subdued in style
and reflected more the patron's simple desires,
and not the inability of Native artists.
Columns stand straight like she does.
Hellenic White House.
Choker high up a chain, daresay.
Pearls in a loop, she casts a shadow on a column.
Black fur dots in white ermine shows its worth.
Another Charlotte sonnet.
Jewel for crown.
A spiral curl and stone swerves around the square.
The airport's gates open to her stare and salute,
while green and white trash bins in monikers say,
keep the Queen City the clean city.
Still divided Northwest by Southeast,
the bus here is called the cat, and is the only bright thing
passing in the night.
And then there's--
I'll do one bow, then read one more of those poems.
I'm getting that.
Oh, yeah.