moments

 

Sosketchlovemetimes, it’s more than a meeting of minds.

Bodies touching.

A moment.

Precious.

Entirely on its own.

Stands up to the blistering light.

Interrogated.

The humming of the night hushes the blemishes left by words that cannot be spoken.

Postponed for another time.

Hopeful.

We return to the spot.

me, the mirror and my goddam boobs

In the war against self, angst and joy make the most noise… Increasing the burden on the soul to pretend to find the spiritedness of its once youthful exuberance… Shoooo even the sound of that sentence makes my mind exhausted

So I flip the page, hoping to find a new chapter… A corner of the mind that hasn’t yet been polluted with the dejectedness of being grown…

In between the rubble sprigs of hope sprout shoots… Growing small eyes with a skewed view of the pavement. In the end all that’s left is me, the mirror and my goddam boobs

Leading me to my favourite street. With its welcoming avenue…

maybe, never

the thought of owning the bruises in your eyes.

the cracks of your broken heart

through the unspoken words

of promises,

of things i should be,

but can’t bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

is simply too much.

these thoughts cuts deep.

guilt riddles me

like a hunger you dare me to feed.

the thought of hearing your voice

in my mind’s eye

before i go to sleep

pleading with me ‘to try one more time’

to be things i can’t be

and would probably never bear to be

in your life right now,

maybe never.

i am not hate.

nor do i respond to holding

broken hearts

in the bosom

of my happiness.

i laugh

because

tears would just be too obvious.

the messages in African typography

until a few hours ago, i had no idea who Saki Mafundikwa was, let alone the fact that he’s written the book on African design heritage.

i came across this video of a TED Talk he did on the ‘ingenuity and elegance in Ancient African alphabets’…

he reaffirms the fact that the ‘creative process of design has always been potent’ and African designers would do well by looking within instead of looking outside for inspiration..

the alphabet was born in African, therefore we have an inherited advantage when it comes to creating typography and there is a rich heritage upon which to base new creations…

watch this video for inspiration…

 

magic series: i see rainbows

i see rainbows..

even when it doesn’t rain…

i see rainbows…

streams of warm colours

that tremble when touched.

i hear songs

harmonies of pleasure

that hum along over scattered rhythms.

i see rainbows…

and i remember

a time when i loved you

before you could bring yourself

to stop throwing up

at the sight of your face

reflected in the still waters

around our home…

i see rainbows

streaks of hope

between the ribbons of light.

and i wonder

if my imagination is enough

to carry me

to its ends….

the fly life

right now,
i wish i was a fly on a wall
on the sunny side of this building.
catching a tan;
or whatever it is flies do on walls
i’d sit and listen.
pick up dirty bits;
and hope no one swats me dead.
i’d move with the sun
as the day progresses
the fly life..
aah…

 

inspiration: do not be angry with the rain

 

dont be angry with the rain

 

“Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.”-Vladimir Nabokov

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i love summer. i was born during summer. maybe that’s why i love summer. i love the stillness of sunlight. no wind. just warmth. bubbles of light. the sun goes down rather late (Cape Town summer evenings are spectacular).. the sun rises early. prompting and prodding an early start. polka dot dresses. sunny dresses. sandals – my toes relish the liberation. wet beach sand against my skin. cool breeze after the sun goes down.

or maybe what i love the most about summer is the mood. sunny means smiley. smiley means happy. happy translate to general goodness. wholesomeness.

sometimes the heat can be unbearable. and when it seems like the sky can’t take it. it rains. tears of relief.

inspiration for this post: saw the image featured here (and the title of this post) on A Small Press Life, a blog I follow…

design: creation

There’s nothing that fascinates me more than the creative process… especially of art forms other than writing (I like to believe that I am a writer, you see)…

I came across this video of Mike Harrison, graphic designer and illustrator, based in London. in this clip, he gives a tutorial of his work for the Fotolia TEN collection using Adope Photoshop and Illustrator… some amazing stuff! What’s special about the Fotolia TEN Collection is ‘that people can download the full PSD free of charge for 24 hours allowing them to discover techniques, tips and tricks from the artist.’ Check the work out on Mike’s website. Actually before you do that, here are some images of Mike’s work from this collection:

fotolia4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fotolia1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This process of creation reminds me of Marian Bantjes’ film I saw during the 2013 Design Indaba Film Fest.. I had the pleasure of interviewing Marian… very humbling experience… her process of creation – beautifully intricate.. For once, I have no words to describe… Have a look at this snippet of her TED talk – here she talks about her work and how she aims to create work that incorporates make HERSELF AND the CLIENT happy. Definitely a space worth aspiring to.

Here are some samples of her work:

marian bantjes 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

marian bantjes 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

marian bantjes 2

 

on the radio: Telkom Supplier Development Programme

on radioLast week on my radio show, The Catalyst, on Network Radio SA, I was at The Bandwith Barn attending the inauguaral session of the  Telkom Supplier Development Programme.

I could write a long and lenghty appraisal of the Programme or you can just click here and  listen to me talking about it! I will definitely be talking and writing more about the Programme.

i am no survivor…

French-Canadian singer, Madeline Peyroux sings:

“sticks and stonessurvivor

may break my bones,

but tears don’t leave any scars

so i’m alright”

these lyrics almost have me flipping to ‘Survivor’ by Destiny’s Child.

And I can’t help but think that

being a survivor

is truly overrated,
if you ask me(i know you didn’t but still, i’m sharing that anyway).
it’s a vain attempt to show the world our supposed strength.

that i-can-beat-anything, false bravado.
what does it even mean to survive?
who determines the degree of resilience?
heck, i’ve been through somethings
and most of the time, i like to fool myself into believing that i have successfully
survived those trying times.
how do i explain to myself
those moments when i simply cannot get up in the morning?
those moments when i simply do not have the strength to enjoy the sunshine?
does that mean i’m not surviving?

is that a sign of weakness?
when your body is so consumed with this mind-pain that is unbearably huge and seems insurmountable..
so really, what does being a survivor mean?
is there a badge one gets to show the world that i have “survived”?
i may walk with my head held high
and laugh with the world
does that mean i have survived?
i’ve never been a victim of sexual abuse as a child, or physical abuse by a partner or any of those things that get people gasping, speechless, fumbling for words of sympathy.
does this make my plight any less heavier?
well i believe it is completely acceptable to concede defeat along the way.
it’s alright to completely miss the mark some times, at the very least it makes life’s twist and turns seem interesting (laughable,almost)..