MANY FACES


DIMENSIONALITY - self portrait  -  December 07, 2016
"I pass by like a ghost often sensed but never seen"

 


YEARNING - self portrait  -  July 26, 2016
A planet floating in infinite space is surrounded by a universe of life but remains eternally alone. An infinity of others like itself is no consolation to the certainty of its aloneness. It floats amid a constellation of glittering life in an orbit if singularity and disconnection. Connection would mean destruction. I am that planet. Connection is the destruction of autonomy yet it is the eternal yearning.

 


GRIEF - self portrait  -  May 28, 2016
Grief takes many forms. Memories tho beautiful become restraints, denying permission to continue. Emotionally one stagnates. Lamenting becomes an impenetrable doorway sealed by one's thoughts.

 


VISUALISATION - self portrait  -  September 11, 2014

 


THE UNPAVED ROAD - self portrait - 2012
I was born in the bedroom of an inconspicuous house in a Cape Town suburb at 3am. Fragments of that place exist now as images in the furthest recesses of my childhood memory. The fearsome forest of trees across the unpaved road, the grey VW Beetle driven by my father, the bottom left corner of the yard where a four legged friend was laid to rest. In the summer of 1970 we stepped off African soil and set sail for Australia and with it came an alienation that would run the course of my adult life. The altered path of events that have led me to constantly wonder about my other life and what would have been. Sydney was such a long way from home. Stern Catholic nuns, Angelus at midday, crucifixes mounted on walls, statues of the virgin, these were the iconography of my childhood. Chalkboards and dusters, brown rectangular school bags, polished lace-up shoes. The smell of the classroom, comforting yet the subject of fear. At age eight came my first encounter with death when my six year old friend never returned to school one day. His white coffin stood at the end of the long corridor of wooden pews below a life sized crucifix. I bravely held back my tears as they carried him away to a recital of the Rosary. The haven of the Catholic institution was my place of familiarity before the inevitable step into adulthood. Independence would bring its rewards but once I stepped beyond adolescence, I would never again feel such belonging. As an immigrant one always feels the lure of another place. Yet due to the passing of time and the course of personal history I am not the person I would have been. So that other place, the place of my birth, remains foreign yet familiar. It is the earth that I grasped in my infant's hand, yet it is an earth to which I no longer have title. Now as I look out the window at the Blue Gums, part of me remembers the fearsome forest of trees across the unpaved road of my childhood.

 

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