Dürer print

My mother had the Dürer print and the other print on her wall in her room in Germany as a child. They are now hanging in my home, still in their original frames. I'm just sorry the one has some water damage, due to my neglect I am afraid.

Serbian Orthodox Church

I find all churches beautiful and wonder about their interiors. Every religion, I suppose, manifests their beliefs with different rituals and adornments and I find that so interesting. When I was at school I would go to church with my friends just to get the different views, the different experiences. In essence and at the core, I think, it is all similar but the differences in presentation and expression is what resonates with you or not. 

Everyday I drive past them Serbian Orthodox Church. I have been wanting a peep inside so when they had a food market day I went along. The church is so simple outside, so rich inside. Small but with so much detail. 

They also have the Serbian community hall on the property, the music I am sure just makes them remember, makes them homesick. There were posters, photographs and memorabilia on the wall brought over from Serbia and shared in this space where everyone has an appreciation of them.
I was certainly the odd one out. But I do understand what it means to them and how important it is to have this space. My parents gathered with others at the German club, sharing the music, stories, memories, jokes, gossip. Never were they so free of inhibition and so expressive as in their mother tongue. Great memories.

The family fryingpan

I bought a book once, The Family Frying Pan by Bryce Courtenay. I realised we also  have a family fryingpan. Not with a long history like the one in the book but nevertheless a cast-iron pan that was used to create many great meals and memories.

I'll just share one of these memories with you. My father played skittles, a game like 10-pin bowling but requiring more skill and strategy, one night a week. It goes without saying that during the sets a beers or two, maybe four, were enjoyed. My father would arrive home as hungry as a labourer would be after spending the day in the fields or as hungry as the wolf in Red Riding Hood. We would all be asleep but would wake up abruptly as soon as he opened the cupboard to get out the frying pan. A man who has had a few beers is in a good mood and oblivious  that any noise he makes in the middle of the night is amplified. He would fry up onions and two eggs, strong smells to have in the house in the middle of the night. We all lay in our beds waiting for the familiar routine to play itself out.
No one got up to join him because there was an understanding that this night was his night off. This understanding was not verbalise or spoken of, it's just something you know, something you sense intiatively.
As soon as my father went to his bedroom the calm and quiet of night was restored and we all went to sleep. Well, sometimes he could be heard sharing the events of the evening and the gossip of the past week with our mother but it was a soothing sound, like a lullaby.

Regrets on clearing clutter 1

I am not a hoarder, when I think something has served it's purpose I get rid of it. But I now have sympathy for hoarders, and understand they will have no regrets over things they have given away or even ruthlessly thrown away.

I completed my studies, okay I don't want to tell you how many years ago, and some years later I threw out my books, projects, the silkscreen frame etc.

When I was helping G move his office I came across a copy of a book I had thrown out. My heart was sore. I wondered how it was possible that I could not have valued that book. I asked G if I could have it and so now I have a replacement. Although to be honest it doesn't feel quite right.

Hanging onto memories

This may seems like a weird thing to share but when we were children there were no plastic coathangers. There were wooden ones and there were wire ones. The wire ones were used by the dry cleaning industry so they would find their way into your wardrobes by default. Mostly we had the wooden ones. 

To protect our clothes my grandmother and mother would cover the hangers with fabrics. They would use left over cloth from dresses my mom made. 

When I left home I just gathered up my clothes, the hangers attached. This is how I still have some of these coat hangers. Whenever I take something out the wardrobe and slip it off the hanger and it reveals the fabric hanger I think of them both. Those two wonderful woman who taught me so much, they creating a home with warmth and love and put so much care into everything.

A hop, skip and a jump

A hop, skip and a jump from September to November, it's almost as though October never was. So here is just a short recap for October. If there are any typos in the text please forgive me. No need to highlight them and send me a message, like all good mistakes, I cannot go back and undo them.

September snapshots

Remembering Kippies

We used to visit Kippies in the 80s and 90s. The other night when we went to the theatre there he was still sitting outside, remember the past, although the music had died.

Kippies jazz club was established in 1987, named after "the sad man of jazz" Kippie Moeketsi. He was so called because he always had an expression of misery on his face. Moeketsi began his musical career playing the clarinet but soon switched to the saxophone. He became one of South Africa's most famous and best loved jazz musicians.

He played with many jazz greats such as Abdullah Ibrahim, Jonas Gwangwa and Hugh Masekela, among others, yet he died destitute in 1983, at the age of 58, after many years of alcohol abuse. Kippies was closed down in 2005 after the building was found to have major structural flaws.

http://www.joburg.org.za

Sunday service

My mother would go to church most Sunday mornings. When I was young I would sometimes accompany her. 

I remember once we were standing to sing a hymn and then I woke up in the pastor's living room. I had fainted. I think after that I didn't attend church as frequently. Did God strike me down? Wink.

My mother and grandmother both sang in the church choir, choir practice was on Wednesday evenings. I tried that too but I was so bad (friends don't even want me to take part in SingStar).

I stopped to photograph the church on Sunday. While I was standing there the bells started to chime, I got goosebumps. I have heard them chime for Sunday services, weddings and funerals but whatever it is for it is the most beautiful sound. I didn't go in for the service. I just wanted a photograph. Or maybe I just wanted to remember my mother.

Random ramblings on holiday - Part 5

I wonder how many rivers I have crossed during this trip. I know I didn't burn any ;-). There seems to be a bridge every few kilometres.  Each bridge is over a river. Should look it up on a map.

Ha, ha. I am reminded of a post on the internet where a Kenyan man arrived in London, 'discovers' the Thames and names it. Much like the conceited colonialist of old who, for example, discovers a lake in Malawi and names it and claims it, like it didn't exist before and had no name and no one had stood at its shores before and no one had taken a boat across it.

Bacon and eggs for breakfast for 10 days now, but not today thank you. Yes, its great but I need a little something different right now.

The yohurt has been so delicious, honestly, thick and creamy, you could almost mistake it for a dessert. Yum. Leeuwensbosch dairy.

Well, off to see my brother now. Its been a year or two.

So I leave Wilderness, up the hill and down the other side to Victoria Bay.  It very pretty. Great now because there's hardly anyone here. Must be claustrophobic in season, there can't possibly be enough space for everyone.

Still wondering if I should drive into George but it starts to rain so I keep driving. Soon I'm at my brother's house. Yay.

Spend the next few days with them. Chatting,  catching up, reminiscing. I bake bread, they make the soup. They make the chicken dish, I eat it ;-) We have a braai because that's what you do when family gets together.

They feed the pheasants daily, almost all day. Really, they hardly leave the property, life is that good for them. The little wipstertjie walks backwards and forwards on the deck waiting for the door to be left open,  then it walks through the house and out the other side. Flies onto the deck again and waits. Hmm, this little cutie and friends are given cheese.

Some lovely protea shrubs in the garden. And two golden orb spiders amongst the hydrangeas. Waterblommetjies in an old bathtub. The Waterblommetjie bredie, you must use lamb, is a yummy dish. You must try it.

We go to the local coffee shop and the beach. Its a lovely few days.

Voor jy jou oe kan uitvee, is die vakansie verby. I'm packing my shells, pebbles, sea sand and bits of drift wood into the suitcase.

I feel wonderfully relaxed, rested, healthy and strong. I have a bit of a tan. And a bit of hestitation, soon it'll be the routine of work and responsibilities again, but nothing another great holiday won't cure.

So on the back road to George airport. It's such a pretty drive.

A vast meadow of city lights can be seen from the air, seamlessly stretching from one horizon to the other.  Oh yes, we're back.

Can't wait to see the dogs again, and the family. Actually, its always good to be home.

Random moments in pictures

Left to right, and top to bottom.
Good fences make... Stuffie photobombs our pic. Three Stuffies in a group hug. Hersey kisses binge. Colour. Sunflower. Moved the pots to the other side of the house. Barn dance, or not ;-) My favourites, proteas. Moth caught behind the curtain. Bulbs from Tzaneen, or somewhere near there. Softie. Working at work. Reading, lazy Sunday. Visiting a nursery. Recycle what you can. Mixed messages. Evening light. Orange. Curtains. DIY weekend, too many projects to be able to finish any, sigh. Packing a picnic, again. Art classes. Doorway. Lunch. SA art. Signage. Mickey visits for the weekend. Say a little prayer. Hard line and cotton wool. Where the wild things are. Red pepper. Summer rain storms. Drawing on mugs, some more. The sun is travelling north, the day starts later, the evening arrives earlier.
If there's anything here you're seen because, sorry. I blame old age ;-)

Collection series 1

Kingsway Mansions

My brother found this reference to drawings I did 25 years ago when I lived at Kingsway Mansions, that I had sent to my mother. I did these drawings from photographs I took in the flat. Whoa, long time ago but remember it like yesterday ;-)

The good old days

I combined some images I took this weekend and became quite nostalgic ;-)

Fleischsalat und Vollkornbrot

Another step back in time and into my mother's kitchen. My mother would make this on a summer's day for lunch, with Krautsalat. Or Krautsalat und Bockwurst, mit senf. Schmeckt gut!

Dad's tool box

I opened my dad's tool box last night looking for something and it reminded me of our childhood. When my dad was making something or fixing something we would always 'assist' him, when he shouted 'monkey-wrench' you had better know what it was and hand him the right tool. We had a great time. It made us so knowledgeable and capable that we are able to do most of our own repairs and renovations. Thanks dad!

The history of things

I'm not really a hoarder but there are some things that I'm so glad I have kept.
My father made these chairs, 4 of them, in the 1960's. They are the most comfortable seats. I only have them because my brother doesn't have the space for them, but thanks bro.
The little paraffin stove is also from our childhood. My mother would put it in the bathroom on winter evenings to keep the room warm during our bath. But wait, it gets better. She would put a saucepan on the top with milk and when the milk was heated we would have a glass of warm milk while in the bath. Bliss.
The painting is from the 'old country' and always hung in the dining room at home. It hangs in my 'library'.

Free flight

Well, while I'm dwelling on the past – when I was working at SAA you were allowed a free trip once a year, it had to be local, and you weren't allowed to cross the same airport twice. It was such fun! In Cape Town I stayed with a friend's friend, in Durban I met up with someone who had worked with us in Windhoek. In Harare I waited for a friend, Frank, and we flew together to Victoria Falls, where we spent a few days. Then I flew to Johannesburg to see my parents. And back to Windhoek. I was 17 and had to get my parent's permission to leave the country.

Memoryboard

This mosaic is made from some of the things I have collected - ivory pieces from a bracelet my mother owned, seeds from Botswana, sea glass, shells, pebbles, pottery, bark, stones, picked up all over the place (I want to say world) and broken plates all dug up on Sam's farm.

Black candyfloss sky

Years ago after driving home from my father's I drew this pic, its very naive and fun.
Often when I see the dark clouds hanging overhead I think back to that moment.

The censored word refers to the black sweets that have a liquorice flavour, that we used to eat as children.