Afrofuturist Animations

by Bryson Scott

Ancestral Backturn

We encounter a figure turned away from us—unbothered, unwavering. Clothed in a green kimono with traditional patterns, crowned by a natural halo of hair, and framed by a serene lunar glow, this piece speaks of quiet strength. It’s a portrait of dignity—of someone who’s seen it all and still refuses to fold.

This piece recalls the act of choosing self, history, and protection in a city that often demands performance and spectacle. It honors the Black women and femmes who’ve shaped the city from behind the scenes—from neighborhood doulas and abolitionist educators to grandmothers who knew when to say no and when to say, “Watch me.”

This figure may not face the viewer, but she is facing the past, drawing from it. The backturn is an elegant refusal to be consumed. In this stance, Chicago’s radical past and Black future converge: you don’t always have to face the camera to claim the frame.

They Tried to Bury Us, We Became Stars

A figure floats in a black expanse, head lifted and eyes closed, as if communing with something beyond the frame. Their lavender buzzcut glows softly in contrast to the void. A single geometric earring hangs from one ear. The robe they wear opens slightly at the collar, revealing soft shadows across their chest. Three white orbs and a minimalist square frame accent the background, suggesting constellations or portals. The figure appears still, reverent—both grounded and celestial.

This portrait is a hymn to Black transfiguration—a visual psalm for the quiet radicalism of stillness and stardust. The subject radiates softness and power, suspended in a cosmic pause that feels like prayer. The surrounding stars echo the enduring legacy of Black life: constantly targeted, never extinguished. They Tried to Bury Us, We Became Stars invites us to imagine healing not as disappearance, but as ascension—one fleck of brilliance at a time.

Skybreaker

This piece bursts with motion. The central figure is airborne—half-warrior, half-divine force—clad in metallic leg guards, a sleeveless blue cloud-patterned cloak, and a black armored shoulder pauldron. One hand clutches a massive crescent-shaped scythe, the other rests near a katana. Their skin is marked with glowing lines and celestial symbols. Bright yellow lightning bolts pierce the background, contrasted against black and white clouds that carve out the shape of a divine realm.

Skybreaker is a visual manifesto of Black futurism as combat and flight. The character is part monk, part samurai, part supernova—crashing through artificial boundaries like storm-born prophecy. With a scythe in hand and thunder at their heels, they channel the energy of transformation, disruption, and ancestral inheritance. This is not a figure caught in lightning. This is the one who commands it.

Rehearsal for the Afterlife

The figure is captured mid-movement, arms outstretched in opposing directions like the wings of a phoenix. They wear a flowing black kimono with rich red swirls, golden cloud motifs along the hem, and sleeves lined with bold orange and zigzag patterns. The fans echo the garment’s palette—red with orange tips—and frame the dancer’s presence with balance and grace. Their chest is open, their eyes lifted in reverence or resolve, and the deep maroon bar behind them introduces spatial grounding amid an otherwise flat, vibrant orange field.

This work calls to the ceremonial and the ecstatic. The posture evokes an offering, a summoning, a becoming. Rehearsal for the Afterlife gestures toward performance as portal: a space where Black joy, ritual, and memory exist beyond surveillance or explanation. The dancer is not entertaining—they are conjuring. Here, the afterlife isn’t an end, but a space rehearsed through rhythm, resistance, and rooted elegance.

Combat Chic

Poised and unfazed, the figure stands against a layered backdrop of bright yellow, red, and white lettering. She wears a fitted navy blue school blazer and pleated skirt, evoking the archetype of the anime schoolgirl—but subverts it completely. In her right hand, she casually dangles a massive golden spiked flail on a chain, an object that suggests both stylized weapon and statement accessory. Her sharp nails, straight hair, and controlled expression suggest elegance, power, and disinterest in your expectations.

Combat Chic reimagines the aesthetic language of Japanese schoolgirl tropes through a diasporic and unapologetically Black lens. There is no coyness or vulnerability here—only studied cool and brutal fashion. This figure doesn’t wait for permission. Her weapon doubles as a warning and a world-building tool. She reminds us: survival can be stylized. Protection can be pretty. And every accessory carries a story.

Shapeless Form

Drawn with sharp, minimal lines, the figure seems to straddle multiple identities. Their pose is calm but alert, with a bright crimson sword balanced across the shoulders like a horizontal axis of power. One side of the figure is shadowed in black, the other segmented into muted teals and oranges, evoking dissonance and duality. Their hair is styled into two buns—equal parts cute and tactical. Bold typography crowns the piece: Shapeless Form in elegant serif font, and the phrase “Detach from the Ego” below, anchoring the visual message.

Shapeless Form is both command and condition. It channels martial arts philosophy and Afrofuturist elegance to invite release: from identity performance, from narrative traps, from being made to choose between forms. This figure isn’t undefined—they’re undefinable. Part fighter, part monk, part avatar of refusal, they hold their sword not to strike, but to balance. In a media world obsessed with branding and clarity, Shapeless Form dares to speak the language of ambiguity, transcendence, and interior quiet.

The Practice of Readiness

The figure is drawn in overlapping geometric planes, evoking paper dolls, armor plates, or layered memory. Their stance is calm but prepared, both grounded and observant. They hold a katana vertically with black-gloved hands—less like a threat, more like a vow. A red circle reminiscent of a rising sun anchors the composition behind their head and torso. The palette is mostly oranges and warm browns, creating a contemplative warmth that contrasts with the blade’s subtle edge.

The Practice of Readiness captures the quiet before motion, the study before strike. This is not a portrait of battle, but of devotion—devotion to preparation, self-mastery, and the stillness that precedes transformation. The figure holds their sword not in violence, but in ritual, invoking a lineage of Black warriors who train in obscured corners and internal terrains. In a world of spectacle, readiness itself becomes sacred.