scratch, scratch, drip, drip

don’t let anyone fool you that we are perfect evolutionary specimens. we are not! evolution has failed me miserably by the absence of ear flaps. i am one of those people that is highly sensitive to noise. i can hear an ant scratch its backside in the desert in saudia arabia and my family think i am mad when i ask, “what’s that sound?” the cyclops is more visually sensitive, yet he claims that he is worse off as he cannot walk around with his eyes closed. i can’t shut my ears at all and am therefore at the mercy of the thumping and bumping, dragging of chairs, dropping of heavy goods and even the sound of snot as it hits the tissue, all from upstairs. i am tormented by every sound churned up by the main road and the doof, doof, doof of the brass bell until 2 am in the morning. i suffer all this, not only because i am an evolutionary mistake, but for the colours of the sea.

the rattling of doors and windows, the dripping of taps, the cat licking, the cat scratching, the tap tap of the computer keyboard, the child sniffing, are all my demise. so in my next life i’m not bothered where i end up, but i’m going to orbit the solar system until evolution has caught up with some basic human needs – ear flaps all around!

sliced white and a pap sak

There’s a street person called Colin who, if you have ever lived in Observatory, will know. I saw him yesterday and although he didn’t look in the prime of life,  I was astonished to see that he is still alive. Now I’ve been seeing Colin around Obs for at least 20 years and at that point he has been on the street for quite a number of years already and not quite your  Men’s Health type of man.

Colin is one of these people who live on the streets for years and years and keep going regardless of exposure, alcohol abuse and malnourishment, whereas there  are people I know who have eaten organic food and practiced yoga only to be rewarded with cancer. Go figure.

I’m not really after Colin’s quality of life but I wouldn’t mind him sharing a thing or two on resilience and longevity, of a kind. How to live out of a polystyrene cup and still survive.  Move  over Tim Noakes, here comes Colin…

cut and paste as required

dear sir/madam

thank you for not replying to my email. my apologies if my email ended up in your junk mail, but you should have checked (even if you put it there yourself). once again, my apologies if you have died and are reading this tucked up nicely between the feet of lucipher, but then again hell probably has a telkom internet connection and so i guess you have an excuse.

although not being of the thick skinned variety of people i would still rather have a no than an empty hole. in fact you don’t even have to add a ‘thank you’ after the no, in case it may result in carpal tunnel syndrome.

i won’t go as far as our grandmothers would have, reminding you that, “manners maketh (wo)man”, but communication does grease the wheels of modern life.

yours truly

“name” 

flotsam and fragments

flotsam and fragments

my friend vheke and i are having a joint exhibition at alive cafe in muizenberg, opening on saturday, 19 july. vheke and i go waaayy, back to when our 16 yr old daughters were 4! keeping it in the family, i surf with vheke’s sister alexis, so come and be seen with the whole troop!

check out vheke’s work here. she will be exhibiting more of her collages, but the block printed fabric is very desirable!

i will also be launching my STAND&DELIVER characters there. whoo hoo!

flotsam and fragments

sugar and spice and i’m not very nice

i’m just not one of the people who walks into the kitchen and goes “whoopeee! let’s get cooking!” i drag myself in there out of obligation not to let my family starve and first and foremost i do love food. it’s the putting together of ingredients that bores me. the thinking of what to make and usually out of an old mother huboard type fridge.

the cyclops on the other hand is a great cook, but he takes the slow food movement a little too extremes. sunday lunches seem to cover supper and if you are still awake by the time an evening meal appears then i guess you won’t be eating supper for breakfast.

all over the internet there are pages of happy, bubble people blogging about the last meal they threw together. although the photos may make me salivate, i find their enthusiasm slightly pathological. unbelievably all over the western world people continue to produce and buy up cookbooks as if it’s the next best thing to 50 shades of grey, which is sort of more how i would describe some of my meals.

oh, i guess i should give myself a bit of credit: i do like baking and i can whip up some mean falafel balls. i can make tahina paste from scratch and a damned good quiche too, but now that i got all that off my chest, it’s off to stand in front of the goddamed fridge again…cook

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