ponderings

"Lionel Abrahams has written about the significance that certain stray conerners of the city assume through personal association. places where we feel more alive and more at home because a 'topsoil of memory' has been allowed to fomr there. Louise Masreliez is concerned with the 'private niches' memory creates in the public space of the city. the image aptly suggests the small and fugitive nature of the association (a 'niche' may be as fleeting as a mood or atmosphere). Both writers presesnt memory in intreguiingly concrete terms. whether as topsoil or niche, whether substance or receptacle, memory is endowed with a hand-warmingly physical quality. this most intimate faculty, resdiing in the heart of the mind, in the softest organs, might yet carve out or fill a space in the material world. so we allow parts of oursevles to take root and assume a seperate life. these marks, the places where our thoughts and feeling have brushed against the world, are not jsut for oursleves. we are like tramps, leaving secret signs for those who come after us, whom we expect to speak the same language. our faith in the music of this double address, in the echo chambers of the head and the street, helps to explain why apartheid deafened us to the call of home."
ivan vladislavik, portrait with keys.

ive been reading lots lately, as am house sitting the house of a friends parents, so hence the quotes featuring largely. also the book rocks and i want to share that around. things are goign well, if not steady and slowly, but going at least is the good part. pottering onward and upward.

new hair

sef portrait in bathroom of hair cut. dont know if i like the fringe again, but too late now. the down side is i cant blame any one else, or stupid hairdressers as it was all me.

"A schoolgirl turns in from a side street a block away and comes towards me. a little girls, of nice or ten, in a Jeppe Prep uniform and short socks, with a satchel on her back. a perfectly ordinary little girl on her way home from school. or she would be, perfectly ordinary, i mean, if she were not wearing a diving mask and snorkel. comings towards me, on a spring afternoon in Roberts Avenue, snorkelling though the slanting sunlight.
Assuming that her performance must be for the benefit for spectators like me, for the woman sweeping the stoep of the old-age home, or the barber under his canvas awning, i expect her to be giggling or suppressing a giggle. but her face behind the glass is serious. the snorkel tube is transparent, the mask rimmed with pink rubber, her eyes look out with the astounded, strained expression of a diver who has just sunk below the surface for the first time and discovered a second world. she gazes at me as if i am a fish, a creature covered in spines, trailing poisonous filaments, jaggered with exotic colour, and passes me, moving slowly through the air, with bubbles of anxiety around her.
I walk on for a few paces, then glance over my shoulder, she will be looking back to giggle at my bemused reaction, I'm sure. or her skinny shoulders will be shaking, at least. but she is neither looking back nor laughing. she is simply going on, her head drifting slowly from one side to the other, her open palms floating back on the air. there are steps cut into the verge, where the tram used to stop, and she goes slowly down them to the kerb, holding onto the metal railing, puts a foot in the roadway, fords fearlessly out into the traffic on Roberts Avenue.
My feet have turned to led, my head is round and deaf. she has submerged the world, and me in it. the light streams like water over everything, the grass on the verges shifts in currents of astonishment, as i press on into the deep end of the city."
"Portrait with Keys: Joburg and what-what" Ivan Vladislavic

hmm

"Lohan's blog has since taken its place in the Internet's fastest growing graveyard- of an estimated 200 million blogs that have been started and then abandoned. The extraordinary failure rate of online dairies and claims that interest in blogging will soon begin a precipitous slide are sparking an intriguing debate about the future of self-expression on the Internet, and whether blogs, once seen as revolutionary, are destined to become a footnote in the history of computing.
According to research by a firm of US technology analysts, the blogging phenomenon may have peaked last October, when 100 000 new blogs were being created every day (are you kidding me!?). As well as personal diaries these included corporate, professional, celebrity and other specialist blogs. Yet the Gartner research firm also concluded that the trend would level off in 2007, with perhaps 100 million people still blogging worldwide. other analysts predict that number will fall to 30 million. most analysts consider a blog defunct if the writer had not been heard of for more that two months... not all bloggers are dishearted by the apparent peaking og the trend; many argue that the best blogs will survive and the world will ultimately be a better place f it doesnt have to read entries like this from [lindsay] Lohan: "Hey everyoneeeeeeeeeee!! Wattaup?"
(Sunday times, april 15)

not sure about a better place, or that the best will out live the crap, as think its more about blind determination and stupidity that keeps most people blogging. perhaps its just the hours of wasted time on the internet that keep me going. nah, i'll go with blind stupidity and lack of alternative time wasters. ha.

letcher in the forest

so last night was an absolute anomaly in terms of durban social life; there was simply too much on the go and happening to do it all. ridiculous; we bitch and complain that nothing goes on in this town, until it all goes down together, and you're forced to either pick and chose (something im not entirely good at) or you run like a bat out of hell and try to do it all. i chose the latter last night and my god was it worth it. firstly let me explain all the options; an art exhibition opening of the works of a friend at bean bag, a band 'cabins in the forest' playing at the kwasuka (more friends), chris letcher on the final leg of his SA tour before going back to england at thunder road cafe on florida, and the durban launch of familia skate dvd at taco even further up the road (not huge on my list but it was happening and was big). sjoe. so, as i said, i decided to be a complete loony, and with shanna in tow, we did it all. it was a stress at times, we were running around slightly headless at others, but smiling all the way. colwyn thomas is a phenomenally talented artist, and so it was awesome to see his works up at bean bag (among other absolute shite). he's becoming really well known for his light boxes; beautiful drawings and photos enhanced by light features behind. then oddly enough, his brother gary, and friend andy, form cabins in the forest; certainly one of the best acoustic gigs i've seen. what made it great was that the theatre is small and intimate, and the crowd mainly of friends (durbs seem good in supporting their own), so the gig was really relaxed, and fun and intimate in return. those two are fantastic; all in all the evening was a showcase of great talent and skill, and what you can do with it. shan said it perfectly when she called them guitar manipulators; they use that instrument to its fullest potential, and their music blows you away as a result. its kind of along the lines of early decemberists, my morning jacket, early gomez, but totally unique and their own. and damn do they have that smokey, whiskey voice done. so blue grass. the problem with the evening was that the letcher gig was to start half way through the cabins one; hence the serious timetabling and strategizing that went done. if we left a little before the end of cabins, we could catch half way onwards of letcher, but unfortunately miss the opening of the south jersey pom-poms (who are also meant to be really good- its too much im telling you). the area around kwasuka isn't terribly kosher (and we had parked much further away than expected), so Neil got the text that letcher had started, we managed to fit the end of cabins, and bolted like mad things for a lift to the car, a speedy dash up the road, and try to squeeze into a very small venue to catch even just one last song of chris. woohoo for us (but stupid on behalf of the venue) it was so crowded inside, but there were window seats, so we managed to watch quite a few songs of greatness from the pavement. the venue is nice and all, but far too small of a person of his nature, particularly with a large following in durban, so many people were all squashed up on the pavement, trying desperately to see anything. at least the sound was pretty decent, and being small girls, we managed to fit into gaps, so could see and hear just how much more awesome this guy seems to get each time i see him over the years. too rad. so all in all, the evening was too great, too fulled with smiles, amazing music, and fantastic people. wait, there isn't such a thing as too much right. to top this all off, I'm going for sushi tonight for dinner and another great friend is up from cape town for the weekend; can this week get any better?! (thesis is going too dont fear, finished another chapter yesterday! is that light at the end of what tunnel?)

ponderings

you realise that one's life has gone a little out of kilter, and something is odd, when you receive a happy birthday card from the johnnie walker striding man society. hmm.

my bed, in its new whiteness of sheet and cover, looks amazingly inviting.
but alas, i have to put off that fun for awhile, as life seems to be intervening and calling my name to perform again. (sigh) the craziness continues onwards and upwards these days. its really not a bad thing at all, I'm whining and feeling sorry for myself due to lack of sleep and sore head all day. its really great actually, but I'm tired, so giving myself free license to indulge in self pity, just for a little while. its like i really want to be a good student, live a simple healthy life and so on, but somehow life interferes with my plans and complicates it with loads of good friendships, booze and fun times.
bugger.