Her songs and spells

And an attempt by me when I couldn’t find the words...

I’d asked a friend for something to put up on my fridge and the line she gave me was a play on the expression ‘to play or keep your cards close to your chest’ or not to tell others what you are intending to do. The image she created was of a card player holding her cards close to her chest, but holding them face out. Of someone guarded and secretive, yet bold and open.

But I couldn’t find any words to do with cards so I chose songs and spells instead – something revealing, something compelling. And something to suggest her contradictions – her many selves, the rarest of which being the most expressive and inspired, and perhaps the best...

So arb

arb (ärb)

adj.

South African English Slang
1. Based on or subject to personal whims, impulses or caprice: “That was such an arb thing to say.”

2. Having little or no application or relevance

3. Having no specific purpose or objective
v. arbed, arbing, arbs
1. To wander about aimlessly: “I just arbed around the mall all day.”

[From Standard English arbitrary]

A friend recently reminded me that before everything was “totally random”, it was “so arb”. I’d forgotten how often we used the word “arb” as teens and university students.

So Nineties, I thought, and so local. I hadn’t thought that it might be South African English slang – or, perhaps more specifically, “White South African English” slang. But I spotted the word in a post on a local blog dating back to 2005 so I guess it’s still arbing around Cape Town with young urban middle class English-speaking South Africans – of all colours in post-Apartheid South Africa.

With a little help from: http://brainwavez-watman.blogspot.com and http://www.thefreedictionary.com 

Down Bathurst Street

Catching up with another old friend last night got me thinking of places I haven’t been back to in years...

I made this sketch at the top of High Street, looking down Bathurst Street. I was sitting outside an awfully old-fashioned outfitters that used to be there – and perhaps still is – when an elderly lady stopped on her way in to scold me, very politely but quite insistently, for sitting out there in the cold. I assured her that although it was chilly I was warm enough and went back to my sketch but a short while later she was back – with an armful of flattened cardboard boxes that she’d requested from the outfitters. I could only smile and obligingly sat down on them to keep from catching my death of a cold.

If my sketch itself looks a little worse for wear it’s because I stopped to lie in the sun on the grass near the Drostdy Arch on my way home, only to have to leap for my drawing board as the sprinklers were turned on..!

Travelling on words

I recently pulled out a whole bunch of letters and cards and postcards – all from one of my closest and oldest friends. We met when we were eighteen and in first year at university, and we've been writing to each other ever since – though letters have become emails and text messages, and even these are a little outdated already. But we’ll still sometimes send handwritten cards and postcards – hers in bold, rounded letters and sometimes very jumbled spelling, and mine in smaller, rather wonky – and at times pretty illegible – letters and slightly breathless punctuation – somewhat like this paragraph..!

Since we've almost always lived far apart (we were only at the same university for two years), these letters and cards and postcards have had to travel across the country or around the world to reach us.

But the ones that caught my eye which I picked from the pile were those she sent when she was studying towards her masters. I think they mean even more to me now because I’m just beginning my own research and struggling to set a routine and stick to deadlines – just as she had.

Here in South Africa, she had received little support and supervision but she’d applied for a Fulbright and, over a year later, was sitting in class at Emory in Atlanta, Georgia. It was so exciting – and such a leap for her! But it was also very demanding and difficult because she’d gone on her own and her husband could only fly out once to visit her.

These are from some of her letters and postcards that she sent from the US. I travel there on her words because I’ve yet to go myself...

8 January 2003

We went off to New Orleans which was quite strange, a tourist town with a French feel that’s been accentuated. Everything’s very “shabby chic”, if you know what I mean, with that old time grubby feel, lots of old buildings or at least the facades of them, all “broekie laced” out, with cast-iron winding staircases and pots of bright posies, slap bang in the middle of a city with looming buildings in the distance. Then we went off to Florida, to Mexico Beach, and rented a hotel room on the beach, with waves breaking outside our front door. The landscape in the US South is pretty dull, lots of strip malls with tons of chain food branches. You could drive for miles and feel as if you’re in the same place, the land is vast and flat, but Florida’s lovely in a “calm”, “cool dude” kind of way. The weather was fantastic and the sea was blue blue with little lapping waves and because it was Christmas time it was completely deserted.

January 2003

I just want this thesis to “come to life” and leave – go off on its merry way – soon... and very soon I’ll be leaving! I’m starting to miss home again. I’m still in two minds about home and what there is there for me, but here I feel no connection. I do feel very lucky though to be given the chance – at least... I only wish that it didn’t still all feel so alien. At Emory everything’s bright, new, expensive and shiny. I couldn’t believe that the place is actually quite old (built in the 1800s). It’s a lovely campus though, very leafy with little reading spots all over the place. I’m going to enjoy the last couple of months here ...

(On a postcard included with the letter) This is a view of Emory village – I liked it because it reminded me of “Northern Exposure” – I don’t think that I’ll be moving over to Alaska or anywhere snowy and cold... The weather here’s been wonderful – I’ve preferred winter to summer, it’s cold but the sky’s the most amazing blue.

I went to my first “blockbuster” exhibition. Some works (Impressionist mainly) from the Musee D’Orsay in Paris. I was so amazed – about twenty people gathered in front of a work and just “stood” there transfixed – then they shuffled off to the next one. It was amazing and it was packed, everybody staring at Monet’s “Flags”, Degas’s “Bather”. The exhibition itself wasn’t that incredible but Americans went to see/experience something French... They had mimes and an “orel” player, hmm... Quite something. Oh and they had croissants and giant choc-chip cookies just to add an American flavour!

12 March 2003

I’m crazy busy again which is good since I only have a couple of months left in this place and I have my thesis to finish. The support I’ve been getting here is SO incredible, I sometimes think that they want me to finish even more than I want to myself. I REALLY need that right now, it’s been such an undertaking: this MA. At this moment it feels as if they’re pulling me out of who I used to be. I in turn have to pull the thesis out. It’s all a bit like having multiple births, and equally exhausting. Geez, after this, kiddies are going to be a breeze... I shouldn’t say that though, you know fate.

26 April 2003

 I brought a pile of your postcards here to remind me of my sunny kitchen and the dreams I had of Tate Modern. I’m off to New York soon and I’m really looking forward to that. I’m planning to go to DC from there, probably only for a day though, really just want to see the Smithsonian. I’m off to LA for my internship and at this moment I really just want to get out of this place altogether and far away from all the insanity. I’ve really felt as if I’ve had to slave away for the money I got and I guess that being in a war-crazy country doesn’t help either.

12 May 2003

I’m off soon to UCLA and the Fowler – it’s almost all over. Can’t wait to be back home but I’m realizing that I’ll probably miss all this hyper-stimulation and the cheap books and super-fast internet access etc... At the moment I’m frantic again, finishing off chapters and packing and watching too many technicolour Hindi movies. They’re fantastic and I’m completely hooked, only problem is that they’re 3 hours long! Sigh!

19 May 2003

Was completely overwhelmed by the Met. Spent the entire day there and still didn’t see everything. Which I’m reconciled with. The Met is awesome, too much, impossible to absorb it all. But I’ve seen many wonderful works that don’t translate well in print or slide. All those landscape paintings we studied I finally saw, a Turner hung next to a Constable. I still love Turner. There was a great Manet and Velasquez exhibition at the Met, a “blockbuster” where people greedily gobble work. Even saw wonderful Goyas. I’m lucky to be staying in Greenwich Village which itself is quite an experience.

4 June 2003

LA is great, the nicest city in the US I’ve been to so far, and the internship is going well. I’m at the Fowler, UCLA’s museum. They have a very successful community outreach programme and I’m here to learn about that and to learn about funding – how they manage to get so much money for really great projects. I thought of you when I went through the Mexican popular art exhibition. I’m sure you know those giant, bright candlestick holders they make out of clay? The exhibition was great... All the buildings on campus (all of the old ones) are Spanish inspired. And it’s lovely to feel close to Mexico. I didn’t get to it and this is probably as close as I’ll get for a while. Oh! The Mexican exhibition. Somebody did this wonderful “Like Water for Chocolate” ” tree of life”. They even had Gertrudis on her horse with the moustachioed, sombreroed Zapatista! You’d have loved it.

A Japanese iris

I painted this, and a few more irises, while out with friends at a small winery in Niigata, Japan – yes, the Japanese make wine too. (And enjoy drinking it, as my friend Ikue would agree.)

We’d spent more time over lunch and lingering at the gift shop than sketching or painting, but it was a good day out. And the resident cat just loved all the attention, coming over to see what we were all painting and sitting in my lap as I sat on the grass with my sketchbook.

Thought I’d read up a bit on irises and discovered that, despite the name originating in Greek mythology (Iris is associated with the rainbow and messenger of the gods) and all the hybridizing and selection, horticulturalists have not been able to breed a pure red (bearded) iris. Most irises are therefore shades of purple and blue or yellow or white.

That little bit of yellow seems to suggest that it’s one of the bearded irises so perhaps not a Japanese iris after all, but an iris in Japan nevertheless.

Ikue painting the garden

Nuria and friend

Scrambling up and up

A week ago I climbed up Table Mountain with friends. We took the India Venster route as it’s not as well known – or as crowded – as the route up through Platteklip Gorge. The path runs up under the cableway most of the way up, then passes around the mountain above Camps Bay and finally ends at the top of Platteklip Gorge.

The ravine through which the route runs apparently looks like the shape of India when viewed from below – though I couldn’t see any resemblance myself..! And the venster (‘window’ in Afrikaans) is formed by some of the rocks in the ravine and frames a great view of the surrounding mountains.

It was an exciting climb but far more strenuous than I was expecting. I suppose I’ve always viewed Table Mountain pretty much as a postcard – or a dramatic backdrop. Until now...

I soon discovered that setting off on no more than a cup of coffee was not a good start..! Although we began climbing by 8.30, it was very hot by then already and quite still on the lower slopes. I think my blood sugar level must have been too low because I’d only been climbing about twenty minutes when I felt so dizzy that I crumpled into a little heap on the steps leading up from the lower cableway station. Those last steps I could only do munching on my apple – and that, incredibly, got me most of the way up..! (Well, an apple, plenty of water and a whole lot of stubborn determination not to miss out on any of it...).

We made it up in about three hours, stopping just below the upper cableway station to eat our sandwiches and watch the cable cars whizzing by overhead.

Taking the cable car back down felt far too easy but, as a very inexperienced rock climber, I wouldn’t climb down India Venster (this can be dangerous if you don’t know the route) – I have far too much respect for the mountain to attempt that – just yet.

Slogging up those steps...

Beginning to climb

Scrambling up

Hanging on

Cape Town and Table Bay in the distance

At India Venster

Through the venster

A glimpse of Devil's Peak

A cable car whizzing by overhead

Going around the mountain

Naomi and I very nearly, almost, there...

(Thanks, Brahm, for the great climbing photos!)

Skin

This collage came out of an argument I’d had with a friend. I’d been disappointed at how stereotypical her favourite female fantasy characters appeared. They looked to me, despite their weapons and armour, like yet more Disney princesses: all big boobs and big hair – and very tiny waists. Princess Fiona they won’t..!

I was also critical of just how much more sexualised these women characters were than the men – and that she couldn’t (or perhaps didn’t want to) see that. Of course it’s not just the poses and pouts, and sidelong looks – it’s how much skin they’re showing. Unnecessarily, since I am sure that it’s safer, despite their vast knowledge and powers, to armour their midriffs when wreaking havoc or whatnot...

But, I wondered, am I spoiling all the fun – and perhaps fighting a losing battle? Maybe I am... After all, women’s nude or semi-nude bodies are all over the internet, right? Or are they?

Well, I thought I’d take a look... I did a Google image search of ‘skin’ and found plenty of anatomical diagrams of the skin – and plenty of young, perfectly make-upped, clean and clear, fair and female faces. And almost as many images of diseased skin!

On the internet (as in life?), skin seems to be perfect or problematic – good or bad! Or perhaps even ‘celebrity’... But, on the internet, skin is overwhelmingly one type.

I really had to search to find photographs of wrinkled skin, men’s skin, babies’ and children’s skin, skin of different colours and shades, skin on other parts of our bodies than our faces, and of different textures. Looking at this collage again, I realised I still hadn’t included any freckles and moles – of which I have many myself!

‘So what?’ you might be thinking. Well, I’d like to think the internet can be a whole lot more diverse and dynamic than that. And that there’ll still be a place on the internet for art that shows some skin, and meaningful conversations and arguments about it, in years to come...

So, here is a synthesis of a whole lot of skin on the internet – I’ve pilfered from so many people’s photographs but (in some kind of apology!) each has been edited so much as to be pretty unidentifiable (other than those of the tattoos of course).

A celebration of the largest organ of the body: the skin

And my last word in the above mentioned argument:

Women can be super and sexy, but many women around the world are still fighting all kinds of sexism to be the best – and sexiest – selves they can be.


And on that, I think, we can agree.

From coast to coast

Surrounded by piles of papers and files and books, there were times when I thought 2011 just seemed to be flying by – and what had I actually done? So looking back at the photos I took over the course of the year was a good reminder of how far I’d actually come... I’d moved down to Cape Town, from the east coast to the west, and caught up with old school friends and friends from Japan and the Middle East. I’d shared a lot of ups and downs with friends on my course and course teachers, and lots of laughs and advice (not all from me to them!) with many of my past students. I came back for a family wedding and spent time with visiting family from the UK. And, of course, I went back to my studies after years of working and travelling in the Middle and Far East – and finally got through all of that coursework.

Looking ahead, I’ll be getting stuck into my research this year and getting back to some teaching. I’ll be driving down to Cape Town in ‘Maya’ which will make getting around and out of the city that much easier. And I’ll be back just in time to meet a friend’s long awaited and, by then, newly born daughter...

These are some of the sights from my travels last year. (I’d wanted to choose a photo from each month but I hadn’t taken enough throughout 2011 – they cover the year anyway.)

At the Odeon

When I was a student there, Grahamstown had two cinemas: His Majesty’s and the Odeon. His Majesty’s was the more comfortable and characterful of the two. It was opened in 1935 but was gutted by a fire in 1998. The Odeon was cavernous and draughty, and the leather seats were cracked and hard. But we went there just as often.

Both cinemas screened a number of films during the annual National Arts Festival. In first year, I went to a whole bunch, from the elegant ‘La Dolce Vita’ to the exuberantly hippy ‘Hair’. These were some of the others I saw that year: ‘Vincent and Theo’, Jane Campion’s ‘Sweetie’, the German comedy ‘The Nasty Girl’, the sharply energetic ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead’, the beautiful and melodramatic ‘Indochine’, ‘The Exorcist’ uncut and Richard Linklater’s ironic ‘Slacker’ – which I loved.

I can’t say I watched it because, although a friend and I snuck in to watch the contentious ‘The Lover’, we walked out again soon afterwards. We were curious but thought it cold and quite brutal.

This is from a sketch of my friend Qanita and me watching the opening scene of ‘Salmonberries’ at the Odeon, our legs slung over the seats in front of us. I’d already seen ‘Bagdad Cafe’ by the same director which I’d just loved but this was much quieter and slower – though quite haunting. Sitting in the Odeon on a winter’s night, we were shivering at the Alaskan snow.

Good friends

I’m a hoarder of words, especially handwritten words on notes, letters, cards and postcards, and I recently found this in a box of old papers. It’s almost twenty years old..!

It’s good to know that my friends thought of me when I missed a day of school... And of course I couldn’t wait to get back..!