Category Archives: Autobiography
Why does this image say it all? The Sunday night apprehension, the playground bullies, the monotony, the routine. From under the sheltering umbrella of bed and home, these shoes must go forth into all that with me reluctantly inside them. … Continue reading
At first the thinking was something along these lines: what should I do with these silk ties I have collected over the years from charity shops and flea markets? Ah, I know, sew them onto a cloth, some unbleached … Continue reading
from “Psst…have you heard?” African Suitcase Some strange things happen in a classroom, to that I can attest.
from “Psst…Have you heard?”, African Suitcase School rules are one thing, dog rules say never put out your hand on top of a strange dog’s head.
from ” Psst…Have you heard?”, African Suitcase It’s something that we ladies like to do whether there is something important to say or not.
Rub your hands in glee, Mr Fly. You’ve landed on a yellow bombshell in my garden.
My eldest son, as a four-year old, in his construction. Still immersed in informal housing till now.
Another dark image that captures a recreation of a memory: arriving in South Africa aged 5 and a bit. The sparkles below are Jhb from the air… From an ongoing autobiography COLOUR IN CHILD. Here is the chapter that goes … Continue reading
The nuts and bolts of things aren’t supposed to be as pretty as this: