equilibrium returns.... whew!~

Sorry about the previous rant... i considered deleting it, because it is uncharacteristic of me to let things get me down that much... and I essentially am a "glass half full with lots of potential for more filling" kind of girl. But I see this blog as a journal of my life, warts and all, to look back on one day and remember how it was.

Anyway, there is nothing like a day away at a spa, sitting in the jaccuzzi with a wonderful friend who is a great listener (and offers some pretty good advice too!) to put things back in perspective. I also got some helpful comments on the rant, and all in all think that it is largely my fault for being so idealistic, naive and intense.... I shall tackle things from now on with a more considered approach, and not expect overnight results. Toddler steps and teamwork is the name of the game.

So watch out world, I'm back, rested, wiser, calmer, and still looking forward to my holiday, but not as a reason to run away, but rather to replenish my energy so that I am ready to do whatever needs doing when I get back.

Who needs a roller coaster?

Sheesh, being a bleeding heart idealist who takes on Quixotic challenges is SUCH hard work!

I poured heart and soul into COPE for three months leading up to the elections. I won't go into it all again, as I have covered the reasons in past posts, but it seemed so vital to me to challenge the big majority of the ruling party, as the writing was on the wall that our hard won democracy was under threat from individuals intent on their own personal gratification.

I heard yesterday that the person I spent most of that time helping returned to the ANC in a fanfare of publicity. He had warned me it was imminent, and given me his reasons.

Beneath the politically correct "tell me what you want to hear and I'll say it" approach of the ruling party lies a sinister reality that is not openly discussed. The bottom line is, if you are black and in business, you either need to belong to the ANC, and part of the crony system, or you can forget about getting work.

So people who joined COPE because they believed in change, freedom of political association and a healthy opposition to keep the politicians honest, find themselves out in the cold. They face 5 years till the next election, in a fledgeling party that has little funding and is unable to offer them paying positions, so they have the agonising choice between feeding their families or following their ideals.

In some cases it is even worse. Assinations have already taken place here, and the authorities were "unable to make arrests". My friend has been threatened (not the first time) that if he does not support the ruling party he will be killed. So much for democracy and political tolerance, South Africa might wear a veneer of it, but it is wearing thinner by the day. Anyone who believes in the facade of South Africa as a beacon of hope, showing that true democracy is possible in Africa (I was one of them) is delusional.

All that said, and I do understand the huge pressures to return and take up the cushy job offerred, I still feel betrayed. I also doubt my ability to judge people. Was he just an opportunist all along? And if he was one of the Mbeki-ites who saw no future in ANC politics, and hoped that COPE would nicely fill that gap, so he joined for a position in the new party, only to leave when there were not enough to go round, how many others have the same agenda?

I am left with the horrible feeling that I wasted three months of my life, sacrificed time with my family etc to help a bunch of opportunists. I suppose time will tell how many genuine people stay behind and don't cave in to the pressure, for whatever reason. But they will do it without my time or effort, I'm moving on to my next windmill!

Speaking of which... the art gallery. It is a community art centre, non profit organisation, run by volunteers. It has been going for 90 years, and at one time was a highly respected player in the Port Elizabeth art scene. However, as happens with so many similar organisations, the people who are able to volunteer (either because they have the spare time, money or passion to do so) are not necessarily the right people for the job, they are just the ones who are willing to do it. (I include myself in that statement.) So internal politics and scrambling after ever decreasing funding had eventually reduced it to a pitiful shadow of its former self, hardly making a ripple in the art world, just limping along trying to stay afloat. It is, quite frankly, regarded by most leading artists as a place for blue haired whites to sit around painting flowers, so it was neither supported by leading artists, nor the black community.

Along came yours truly, full of Quixotic zeal to turn it around. Make it relevant to all artists, help those in the poorer areas to exhibit, source funding, get mentors among experienced artists.... draw the top artists back by raising standards... yadda yadda yadda, you get the idea.

But I have encountered a Catch 22 situation. I rushed off and networked with all the non-white artists I know. I invited them onto the committee. (I must make it absolutely clear, the invitations were not based on skin colour, as token blacks, but because the people I approached have a lot to offer, are skilled artists and communicators, and as a bonus they have good contacts to help get the word out that our services are open to all.) I asked for contact details so I could send out invitations to exhibit. You know what the response has been? "How many blacks are on your committee?" I answer 1. The reply?
"Well it is obviously still white dominated, so I'm not coming on the committee." (The same has happened with exhibitions.... the invitations were ignored, and so at exhibitions the remark is... "see, it's still for whites!" ) ........... so I need blacks on the committee to send a message that we are not a racist organisation, but they will not join because there are too many whites on the committee....

I was therefore delighted when an young black artist from a remote rural area in the Eastern Cape said he had sourced funding, and hired the gallery. When the due date was approaching, I suddenly got a call saying he was now exhibiting at Fort Hare, and would not have work ready in time so he wanted to postpone. This is not how one treats a gallery who is mounting a solo exhibition, but because of the whole "bleeding heart trying to accomodate the emerging artists" thing, I gave him the date he asked for in July, and used the gap he created to renovate the gallery.

After no response to my calls and e-mails for the past two months, I finally got a letter yesterday saying he was cancelling as he can't get funding... (he already had it so I assume it was used on something else.)

Now, apart from the inconvenience of finding a good exhibition at short notice, and all the work involved to change the press releases, etc, the worst thing is what this has done to my efforts to bring about a change in perceptions of the gallery.

I assumed some of the people who have been on the committee for years were just clinging to the past every time I encountered resistence to my efforts to draw in artists from other cultures. But I am beginning to realise most of them are simply dissillusioned because past efforts to do so have failed. And this simply reinforces that resistence. So the next time I want to help emerging artists, I will again have to battle through all that negativity, from both sides. On one hand the dissillusioned ones will not want to open us up to being jerked around AGAIN and on the other, those who do not know all the inside stories will look at the gallery and say "see, all whites still...." aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrggghhh!

I never thought I would have to beg people to make use of facilities that are being offered to help them, but it is OVER! From now on, no favours, no special treatment. Business is business, you make the grade or you don't, same as anyone else. We will help where we can, to mentor and network for funding, and offer open exhibitions, but that's it. I suppose that means we will continue to carry the label of "colonial relic"... pity, because that is so far from the truth.

I felt so dis-spirited by all this yesterday, i went and ordered a pizza and a chick flick, and had a small pity party, but all I got was heartburn!

Windmills are pretty, but tilting at them wears a bit thin, the damn things just don't budge! So in a week's time I'm dragging my tired and disillusioned butt off for a holiday. Hopefully I will return refreshed and ready to tackle the next windmill that rears up in front of me... but for now, they must all just spin on unchallenged, enough is enough!!!

A rush of blood to the head.... well at least it looks like that.

After a particularly gruelling renovation involving an obscene quantity of old carpet glue and copious amounts of sandpaper and noisy cumbersome machinery, not to mention getting through the process by popping pain killers like smarties, the gallery transformation finally happened and, with the help of my friend, Nigerian artist Usen Obot, we got the Chinese Exhibition hung half an hour before the opening... no pressure!!!

So today I took some ME time, swanned around the house all morning in a disreputable old kaftan, and then took myself off to jazz up my hair a bit, watch out world, this granny will be back soon, brighter and bolder than ever!

if you wait for life to get back to normal, you'll wait all your life!

...... So with that breathtaking realisation... I have stopped waiting, and accepted that life is a series of unplanned (and often planned, but bigger than intended) events and tasks, and so it is best to just go with the flow, do what you can, and enjoy the ride. One thing that makes it possible to survive the more hectic passages in one's life is the ability to stop and smell the roses, to see beauty all around, even if it is just stopping for a millisecond to take a photo and acknowledge the moment, before re-entering the spinning wheel.

And I guess that pretty much describes the last few weeks. I have been in "community crusader mode" on a couple of things (having left "political activist leading up to the elections" mode behind me for now!!)

One of the things at the forefront of all the others were a David and Goliath battle between us and our neighbours on the one side, and the Police Force, Public works department and Municipality on the other. Way too long to go into at this late hour, but i have mentioned it before... they wanted to build a really ugly 4 storey modern building and 50m mast on the edge of the park that we overlook, blocking our views and ruining this historic area. But by far the most serious aspect of the planned development was that part of it was to be on a portion of the park that was a historic burial ground (in the mid to late 1800s for the workers who lived here at the time, in what was called "the strangers location". I told a bit more of the story on our old PE daily photo blog last year. The developers did not believe us about the burial ground, but we made such a fuss that an archaeologist was called in to dig and sure enough, human remains and bits of coffins were found!

Max wrote copious documents for the Environmental Impact Assessment, and I even went so far as to organise an interview on National e-TV news for our local City Councillor, to protest about the fact that, despite the finding of the remains, the State seemed determined to proceed with the project.

Well I am delighted to say that this morning's paper carried an article with the good news that, due to the finding of bones in the disputed area, the project has been moved elsewhere, and our historic park is safe, for now! We will still be able to enjoy this view for some time...

The other crusade is to get our local Community Art Gallery running on a sound footing, and one of the ways of doing this is to renovate it. So I am afraid I have again donned the "chicks with power tools" mantle, and have been sanding and varnishing seemingly ENDLESS wooden floors for the last few weeks, as we had an unexpected gap in the exhibition schedule, and not enough time to fundraise and pay a professional contractor to do the job.

The walls were clad in some very drab green carpeting, and had had nails hammered in and pulled out at regular intervals for many years, so there was some major work to strip them, fill them and paint them. The floors had blue carpeting glued on them with some hideous glue that clogged up endless sheets of sandpaper.

The wooden floor was rotten in places, and as the gallery was formerly a semi-detached double storey that had adjoining walls knocked out, there were cement strips where the old walls used to be. These had to be chopped out and replaced with wooden floor boards.

This weekend we will rehang the picture rails, build a reception desk and complete the varnishing and painting, et voila, hopefully by Tuesday it will be all shipshape for the opening of our fabulous international Chinese art exhibition (I'll post some pix of that for you next week.)

We had no sooner started stripping the walls when I got an urgent call from East London to say my dad was very ill, so I dropped everything into the hands of other committee members and went down there. Sadly he had had a stroke, and was not responsive... he seemed to move his head slightly to my voice, so i think he knew i was there, but he could not talk, and his eyes were glazed. He died the following morning. He was 91, and very frail, so it was not a real shock, although even when you are expecting it, it actually does take you by surprise.

Luckily, just weeks before, my sister and her husband had come down from Zimbabwe, and we spent a lovely time with dad and Connie for his 91st birthday, and then i was there just two weeks before his death for an Art AGM, and had two lovely visits with him, so there was a sort of closure.

As he had outlived nearly all his friends and family, it was a small group who met at the Chapel in the Frail Care centre the next morning to bid him farewell. Our family is so scattered around the world, and were not able to make it, so i made an unusual request at the end of the service, and asked that everyone would remain seated so i could take a photo of the service, and send it to them, so that they too could feel as if they were there in some way, and had an opportunity to put a fullstop on the story of his life.

That is where one of the "stop and smell the roses" moments i spoke about happened. Well, not so much roses as catterpillers! The Milkwood tree in Connie's front garden had the most fascinating appearance, covered in webs from some sort of moth.

Bizarre!!!

One really good thing happened because of the funeral. I have often posted in the past about my somewhat fraught relationshiop with my father, he could be unbelievably selfish, demanding and difficult. As we were supporting him for several years, I had built up a lot of anger and frustration towards him, I did my duty as a daughter, but found it hard to like him as a person. I guess all the tension and bad incidents had overshadowed any happy memories. A while ago, when he moved into the frail-care, Connie gave me a box of his family photos and books. I hung many of the photos, but could not bring myself to hang the one of him, as every time I saw it I got the old familiar knot in my stomach, and didn't want to be constantly feeling like that in my own home.

Anyway at the funeral, as his grandchildren were all unable to attend (being scattered all over the world) they e-mailed their memories of him for me to read out at the service. They had not experienced any of the drama of the last few years, and their memories were all the happy child/grandparent ones, laughing fondly at his foibles and eccentricities. Reading them out reminded me of the other side to dad, the side where there were happy memories.

At the same time, the minister, who didn't know us at all, but is a wise and gracious man, made a profound observation. He said that there is an apparent contradiction, on one hand we are "made in the image of God", and on the other we are "dust of the earth" He said the part the kids were remembering, the happy parts, were the "image of God" parts, and were to be kept for eternity. The unhappy parts, the parts that one would not want to hold on to, were the dust to dust part, best left behind with his ashes. I didn't realise the impact all this had on me until i was back home, and tidying the study last weekend. I came across the photo of dad, and, instead of the familiar tension, I felt a warm closeness. So I hung the photo on the wall with the others, and enjoy having it there. So, thanks kids, and Reverend, for restoring all my happy memories!

During all this, I had another "smell the roses" opportunity when I went to have tea with a friend who lives on top of a tall building on Brookes Hill, with what must be the very best view of the City ...... it was bliss sitting there enjoying this panoramic view while sipping coffee and talking art, thanks Basil and Esme! As you can see through the mist in the distance, our 2010 World Cup Soccer Stadium is nearing completion, and has become a major landmark in the city.

Anyway enough for now, I must try and get some sleep and be bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow to continue the renovation saga! Good night.

Howdy Strangers

Oh dear, time seems to have been flying by, I hardly know where to start! The last month has been a roller coaster ride of travels, elections, exhibitions, hardcore political discussions on facebook, and very excitingly, planning a trip to Turkey and Bulgaria!

So, in no paticular order, here are some images from the last month.....

A trip to the Addo elephant park on Easter Sunday was a delightful outing....

strangely enough, for us, although we loved the elephants, the highlight for us was the meerkat family, their synchronised antics had us in stitches!

Of course, the big news of the month was the election on 22nd April, and it was preceeded by the usual hoopla and promises. Cope came to the party late, due to lack of funds, so while the election posters of the other parties faded on the lamp poles, Cope was noticeably absent, but went big near the end and wrapped whole buildings!

Also on Easter weekend, there was a family day rally to celebrate family values.

We had more encounters of the wild kind this weekend, when we took our grandson to meet the big cats at the Seaview Lion Park. I am not crazy about caged wild animals (I will never own a bird in a cage for the same reason) but these are well looked after, and the cages are huge, so it wasn't too bad or depressing to see them there.

One interesting aspect of the place is their program for breeding the extremely rare white lions. They are not albinos, but have a recessive gene for the blonde colouring. Some of the tawny lions in the park carry the gene, so that they sometimes produce white cubs in their litters.

there were also three Bengal Tigers, which must be the most magnificent of all the cats, although this chap was hardly putting on much of a show for his species, he was totally blissed out after lunch!

Meanwhile this lioness was waiting for her lunch with great anticipation.

And this guy was having a bad hair day!

Another adventure during the month was to go with my friend Julie and her daughter Nana, who had decided to conquer her fear of heights in dramatic fashion, by doing the world's highest bridge bungy jump. It was actually a lot of fun, they had disco music pumping under the bridge which created a great atmosphere in combination with the adrenilin of the jumpers, well done Nana!

This guy went twice!

Don't look down! The Bloukrantz Bridge, about 2 hours to the West of Port Elizabeth.

I also had a trip down to East London (about 3 hours the other side of Port Elizabeth, to the East) In fact to the East in more ways than one... because one of the arty events was the opening of a wonderful exhibition by 4 leading Chinese artists, I just adored their work.

I also attended the AGM of our National arts body SANAVA and got to meet the heads of several other galleries and art bodies around the country, and even a delegation from the Portuguese Art School in Mocambique. It was a very inspiring weekend.

Another exhibition opening I attended during the month was that of Lizo Pemba (on the right)at the Red Location Museum. He is the grandson of the legendary Eastern Cape artist, George Pemba. I had previously met his father Titus (third from the left) who is a character of note, so it was an entertaining evening!

So I'll end this update with one of the lovely sunrises we have seen lately, and the bonus is, since winter is almost here, we don't have to get up obscenely early to enjoy them!

How's this for a cool motto....

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass ..... It's about learning to dance in the rain."

or in this case, being willing to run around taking photos in the rain.... and capturing a beautiful image as a result!

I don't know who to attribute this quote to, but it is very close to the way I have always chosen to see life. I like to live for today, whatever it is throwing at me, rather than just sit around longing for some sort of better future. And it has paid off handsomly, because every day has dark and light moments, and celebrating the light ones means that, if there is a big dark cloud hanging over the future, it is kept in perspective, and not allowed to rob me of those small delights that are to be found in every day. By the time I get to that cloudy place, it seems to have shrunk, and I seem better able to handle it. (Not that any clouds are looming for me at the moment, although I know some friends and loved ones have a rainy forecast ahead, but it is actually a great way to look at life, in good or bad times.)

Photo journal..... the last couple of months

I just seem to be so absorbed in art, politics, fighting crime, etc. lately, that when I do have spare time, I am too tired to put my thoughts down in any coherent way, to either post or visit and comment. As a result, I have been a bit reclusive in blogland for a while.
So I decided to just upload a bunch of photos with captions, (not necessarily in chronological order) which will give you an idea of some of the events of the last few weeks, without me having to battle against my erratic memory to describe it all. Hopefully, in this case, a few pictures WILL be worth a thousand words!

A TRIP TO ADDO GAME PARK IN NOVEMBER.......


Watching the antics of the weaver birds and red bishops from the bird hide.

Addo is as much about the little guys as the big 5. These dung beetles are gathering elephant dung to lay eggs in.

Pushing its dung ball along in reverse.

Another exciting sight, the enormous and exotic looking Secretary Bird.

a rare sighting of a black-backed jackal in the open, they have been so persecuted by farmers over the years that they are still very shy.

Most exciting of all, a caracal posing obligingly! These cats are very rarely seen in the wild.

A lone zebra surveys the coming storm , with oxpecker on his back eating ticks.

considering their reputation as very grumpy animals, it is a little tense when a baby with protective mom passes this close!

you DON'T want to irritate this guy!

the huge but reserved Eland

the wonderfully elegant Kudu

get off my territory...push ... grunt... snort...

the closest we got to seeing lions....

... no need for a zoom lens here....

just hold your breath till he's past !!!

Help me mom, this mud is slippery...........

OK, there you go...

mud wrestling....

their idea of a bath is a bit different from ours! The caked mud helps protect against ticks and sunburn.
The warthog beats a hasty retreat...


HAD TO GO AND SETTLE MY DAD INTO FRAIL CARE IN EAST LONDON, STOPPED IN GRAHAMSTOWN ON THE WAY BACK TO SOAK UP SOME SCENERY

a stunning historic town 1 and a half hours from PE, full of beautiful old buildings

Dulce, our favourite sidewalk cafe

The 1820 Settlers Monument, on a hill as you drive into the town. It was designed to look like a ship in memory of those who sailed so far in little ships to settle here in 1820. It is now famous as the nerve centre for organising the annual Grahamston Arts Festival.

The fascinating observatory Museum.


BETWEEN CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR... A TRIP TO ST FRANCIS...



AND ALONG THE BEAUTIFUL GARDEN ROUTE TO PLETT AND KNYSNA TO FETCH AND DELIVER PAINTINGS....


NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCH PATROLS......

in all kinds of weather!

LOTS OF EARLY MORNING STROLLS...

watching ships arriving at and leaving the harbour

beachfront sunrises

and the odd sunset too!

WENT WITH CHARLIE AND JUDE (FROM SPAIN) ON THE TEST RUN OF THE REFURBISHED APPLE EXPRESS....

full steam ahead, so glad to have it back on the rails!

HAD FUN WITH WEE E....



TOOK NOEL (FROM NEW YORK) ON A TOUR OF THE APARTHEID MUSEUMS.....

Noel is shown around the Red Location Museum by activist Annette du Plessis

who has been fighting to save these historic shacks that are being demolished by vandals. They were the home of the resistance movement.

...and the South End Museum which documents the forced removals to racially segregated areas in the 60s

FOUGHT TO SAVE OUT HERITAGE AREA FROM AN UGLY 4 STOREY POLICE BUILDING AND 50M COMMUNICATIONS TOWER BEING BUILT ON THE EDGE OF THE PARK, BLOCKING THE OLD ERICA BUILDING....


ENJOYED OUR SUMMER GARDEN....

ATTENDED THE COPE MANIFESTO LAUNCH IN KWAZAKHELE

I could have done with one of those umbrellas....

... but it was inspiring to be part of that amazing crowd and witness history in the making.... hopefully we can follow in the footsteps of America and have a Presidential upgrade soon!

Whew! No wonder I feel like sleeping some more!