The grit in the paint, the girl in the wood

If I were to have a website of wonders it would be called 'Orange Sun' in celebration of all the days of my life when I have greeted this god of all Life magic.
The 10th August 2008 was just another morning that I chose to be there.
Or was I drawn, inexplicably to the surya namaskar, the sun salute, the stretching of slept limbs and arches. Maybe it was just a timeless connection between our Dolphin Coast and Atlantis rising from our thumbed childhood mystery tales.
If everything else is change in South Africa, Salt Rock is a constant.
The sea is always phalanxes of invading conquistadores, their horse held plumes held endlessly high.
In the hotel on the hill there remain ancient Indian waiters, bent in the lost pride of their honourable profession...
and in the Nikon frozen moments of the scarred rock coast, I entered the dreams of the girl in the woods.
Here an open empty doorway.
There a hundred African elephant made small by the artist's whim.
And in a long loved wooden house, Roz Angelica and Paulus Gamerangerus, living and creating their life from dreams and passions. Some few Salt Rocks ago, Roz and her artist within seemed somewhat emerging bedfellows, today they fly hand in hand. Durban, London, Berlin...and in the coming home there is wonderful, beautiful Izzie whose love of things beautiful shows in her odd colour sox and refusal to sleep till the guests have been farewelled.
On the floor, a canvas with the same jagged coast from my morning.

Yes, today a painting spoke to me and said, 'You can dream and from that world you can sculpt your life.'


















Back in Durban, my remarkable mother, ironing on a Sunday, at 88 years old.
Another great weekend trek with Messrs Read and Prynne.
Nuff Sed.