Tuesday, 28 June 2011

Vertical garden

Hotel facade.

Too beautiful to burn

After I bought this wood I didn't have the heart to burn it away. Wearing another jersey, coat and blanket instead. Ha, ha!
I know I'm insane.

Looking back

Some of my older photographs can be found on FLICKR.

Monday, 27 June 2011

Knitwits, seeking good homes

Yes, we are the distant cousins of the Knitwits of Outer Omaze. But we’re from the other side of the world, or an other world, it depends. Above the little island of Akilam, in the sea of Putzel, we have been living on an imaginary cloud for yonks. One strong wind and a giant silver bird later here we are, in a land far, far away. Here with you. Hello. Pleased to meet you. How do you do? We laugh because you humans keep everyone at arm’s length with your handshakes. We Knitwits, we like to hug. We throw ourselves into an embrace at any opportunity. We think spooning is the most romantic thing in the world, it seems to encourage daydreaming and happiness. Life is all about being happy. Oh the joy! Like our cousins we also like lemon creams, creamsoda, marshmellows and eggy sandwiches. We have tried putting those marshmellows with the eggy centre on bread but it wasn’t the same. Eggy sandwiches as ‘padkos’ and cucumber sandwiches with our G&Ts at sunset. Doesn’t get much better than that. No, it’s not a typo - we think it should be marshmellow! That’s how they make us feel, a little fuzzy around the edges. Argh! We get so annoyed when compared to our cousins! No, our stories are not as long and flowery as theirs. For heaven’s sake we’ve been floating on a cloud, what life lessons do you think comes from that? So here we are with you to change all that, a new adventure, the next exciting phase of our evolution. Yes, believe in it, e-v-o-l-u-t-i-o-n, it really happens. We have been in quarantine at a safe house in Hillsun, with Enibas, who thankfully provided lots and lots of dvds on human behaviour. So from our analysis there are about 97243 different types. Each, however, with the same goal - to be loved. Sweet! xx

Disclaimer: No experiments were conducted on the Knitwits while in quarantine. No Knitwit was forced to eat their vegetables before their lemon creams. No Knitwit was judged for having lived a pretty shallow life. No Knitwit was required to sign an indemnity form, a confidentiality agreement or apply for a passport nor will they be tagged before leaving the safe house. At no time were they exposed to any Country & Western music. At all times they were allowed to hug and embrace the  help. Any thoughts and opinions expressed are that of the individual and not necessarily the philosophy of the Akilam clan of Knitwits.

•+••=:....•* episode 1

“Hell, yes, we are aliens. Duh! And I see you looking at our spaceship and thinking ‘it’s nothing but a lime green, dotted bucket’. Oh really, well, listen here buddy, we traveled through time and space fearless, brave, and with faith. We didn’t decide to travel into space AFRAID, in a suit that we foolishly believe will protect us. Against what? And the oxygen thing, tis, tis. Afraid you can’t breathe? Well, I hope that when you see the wonders of space IT DOES take your breath away and make your heart skip a beat.
So, yes, Samuel (yes, we anglicised our name, like you did to those poor people in the bible) and I, Edward, traveled through space in a bucket and landed on EARTH. In a home in XYZ, where all is quiet and uneventful, the ideal place to carry out our work.
‘What work?’ OMG, listen to take tone, filled with superstition and angst! Yes, plotting the invasion of earth, mwahahahahahaha! Oh, grow up! What’s left anyway, the landfills?”

Story continues next Monday.
Honestly, I bought these soft toys at a sale at MrPriceHome, thinking they were so ugly, no-one else would take them. But let’s not burst their bubble.


Look girls, auntie is wearing the socks

James P. "Sulley" Sullivan

There was a re-run of Monsters Inc. I just love James Sullivan.

More flowers

Saturday morning, so cold 2

ice on water


Friday, 24 June 2011

Hand on my heart

I wrote this years ago and I still love it.
I use my hands to rub sleep from my eyes, to throw back the duvet and push myself off the bed. I use my hands to grasp the toilet paper, brush my teeth, turn on the taps, grab the soap. I use my hands to lather up my hair, to rub my body dry with a towel. With my hands I fasten my bra, pull a t-shirt over my head and apply lipstick. I use my hands to cup the head of my dog and kiss him. To fill the kettle. I wrap my hands around a warm mug of tea, and use them to bring its sweetness to my lips. I use my hands to open the door, to scatter seeds for the birds, pick a flower, and feel the temperature of the water. I rub my hands together to keep them warm, rub them on my jeans to clean them, rub them over velvet to feel its smoothness, and rub lotion on my face. With my hands I steer my car to work, type an email to a friend, order a book from Amazon. I use my hands to eat that delicious burger, rest my chin upon while I think, point out something to a colleague. I raise my hands to greet a friend in a crowded restaurant, or wave goodbye at the airport. With my hands I carry my shopping, and pack it away. I ruffle my dog’s coat, and can keep someone distant or bring them close. Hold a lover, cuddle a child. Wipe a tear. Blow my nose. I remember, as a child, my mom held my hand when we crossed the road and my dad scooped me up with his when I was scared. With my hands I push the child forward on the bike, on the swing, into a new school. I tie their shoelaces, hold their ice cream, wipe their mouth. I use my hands to change channels, to grasp a handful of popcorn, to page through a magazine. My hands open jars, packets, books, drawers, cupboards and just as easily close them. I use my hands to hold on tight during a rollercoaster ride, and to clap with delight during a performance. I can soothe a hurt with my hands, give a gift, pay for a chocolate, strum a guitar. I reach out my hands to gladly accept a present, a letter, a plate of food, a drink. I use my hand to stifle a yawn, to hide a smirk, to pluck my eyebrows. With my hands I write you a note, draw a picture, sign my dissatisfaction. I put my hands over my heart when there is bad news, but on my head when I don’t know what to do. I place my hands firmly on the ground to do a cartwheel, on my hips to stress a point. With my hands I gently touch your face to say I love you, pull you to your feet when you’re feeling down. With my hands I tell the story.

My best friends

lemons, in season

Please don't leaf me

Corny, I know, but still I do it.

Thursday, 23 June 2011

How high the moon

Last Wednesday evening.

little old me

my dear friend, kabouz, made up this pic of me.
Thank you, kabouz!


I wish I could pick a bowl full for dessert, but the birds get there before I do.
Well, they are home all day, and I'm at work. Enjoy!

act 1, seen too

from The Daily Bitch
calendar © 2010 Sellers Publishing, Inc.
text & images © 2010 Ephemera, Inc.

a cuppa tea

A colleague started a tea parlour in a lovingly restored 1864 Victorian home. Her Majesteas Salon, High Tea Parlour. You’ll go for tea or lunch, but then you’ll linger the whole day. Your food will be so yummy, you’ll lick your fingers, and you’ll want a bite of everyone else’s dish. It’s something unexpected, something wonderful - relaxing, calming, charming.

Her Majesteas Salon @ The Victorian Guest Lodge 67 HF Verwoerd street Heidelberg 079 334 7579

about a boy

...one brainstorm meeting, 3 titles!

Found a love declaration

alas, it was for another

birthday flowers

Pink Pontiac

in the yard of a motor mechanic, to be restored some day

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

this morning, on the way to work

I had to recreate from memory.Not these two planes (which are the same) but that moon.
On the way to work two planes crossed in front of the moon at the same time. Wow!

just finished this book

page 10: I saw a real dead person. it was where i used to live, at the market in Kaneshie. An orange lady got hit by a trotro, nobody even saw it coming. I pretended like all the oranges rolling everywhere were her happy memories and they were looking for a new person to stick to so they didn’t get wasted.

page 26: Every time somebody shuts their door too hard my flat shakes. You can even feels it. When one person shuts a door everybody else feels it as well. It’s even brutal, it’s like you’re living in the same big house. You can pretend like it’s an earthquake. Mr Tomlin said an earthquake only happens in parts of the world where the rocks are too ticklish.

page 172: Papa held my belly up, I just had to kick my legs. It was even easy. I loved making waves. It felt like the waves were pulling us together so we wouldn’t get lost. Every time I thought I was going to fly away Papa just turned me around towards him and I was safe again. Asweh, the sea is even bigger than you can fit in your head. When I looked to the end of the sea it wasn’t even hutious anymore, it was like looking at the place where I came from. Every time one of the fishing men jumped in the sea he made another splash that added to ours. They didn’t stay apart like I thought they would, they all got mixed up like fingers in holding hands. They all became each other and the sea stretched back to the same shape it always was.

Copyright © 2011 by Stephen Kelman
Illustration © 2011 by Holly Macdonald

Saturday morning, so cold