wah wah wah wah. i tend to go on a bit eh?
yesterdays posting was a marathon. by the time safari craig gets home, i should have at least ten novels penned. i'll be spoken for. no more words.
hope not too boring (wriggling eyebrows again in your direction). where did i lose you? the client bit? in the middle of bloody no-where bit i bet. hah.
universe blitzed in mo today. again. i mean, how original?
no matter. WE HAD FUN. mo walked into our first class of the course Drawing On The Right Side Of The Brain.
Henri Matisse talking to his friend Andre Marchand: Do you know that a man has only one eye which sees and registers everything; this eye, like a superb camera which takes minute pictures, very sharp, tiny -and with that picture man tells himself: "This time i know the reality of things" and he is calm for a moment. Then, slowly, superimposing itself on the picture, another eye makes its appearance, invisibly, which makes an entirely different picture for him.
Then our man no longer sees clearly, a struggle begins between the first and the second eye, the fight is fierce, finally the second eye has the upper hand, takes over and that's the end of it. Now it has command of the situation, the second eye can then continue its work alone and elaborate its own picture according to the laws of interior vision. This very special eye is found here," says Matisse, pointing to his brain.
Marchand didn't mention which side of his brain Matisse pointed to. - J. Flam. Matisse on Art.
2nd Born (on hearing the title of the book): ah der ma, we only have ONE brain.
hateful mother: um well actually you don't but ouf. whatever. sit up will you?
anyway, yeah. mo walked in and joined the drawing class (more like brawling bawling class) at the very point where i lost it with first born for sighing and always been angry and negative then throwing his pencil to the floor. the other two kids (and mo) were round eyed, silent and rather owl like, i thought. so it was tears and me dragging him to the room to talk and us both crying and hugging each other and telling each other how we love each other and how sorry i am but anyhow, back to the drawing board darling. back onto the horse. then gabby cried because she found drawing her hand way too hard. and i shouted at her for always dropping her pencil, at which point mo pointed out, it breaks all the lead inside the pencil and as pamu (mo's ma and famous artist) says you might as well throw it away hah i have such a thing about dropping pencils...and blah.
hmmm. messy. messy.
slamming doors and screaming ensued. beautiful. this is such FUN.
unt vee vill haff fahn, ja? rauss rauss.
(sic. ed. bad bad.)
mo said: wow. this is really working beautifully.
and me scowling into the mirror, drawing a 92 year old self portrait. unlike my last one. an oil. which i thought was bloody good. showed it to safari (and obviously sleepy) craig and said what do you think? at which he said "is that michael jackson?"
in the end we had fun in the drawing class and there is a future to this. there is.. if anything, we will learn to see carefully, i hope.see the spaces, not the lines. the meanings in the gaps between the words.
we even made it to mitumba - the second hand clothes market. it's a riot. of colour, clothes, people. piles and piles of seond hand clothes, blankets, towels, hand bags, sequined belts, indian kaftans, baby clothes, hats, shoes of all kinds (todays best siting was a pair of knee high, about size 5, silver SILVER cow boy boots.), underwear, sweaters, tracksuits oh just EVERYTHING. and when you rummage you find classics - sequined gowns and mumbai princess wedding saris. a visit to mitumba demands time, creative thought, letting go, feeling like a free wheelin' hippy and knowing the deal and how the hell to stick to it. walk away just walk away. love it. love mitumba. love the haggling, me beating down the exhorbitant mzungu prices. and mo speaking fluent slick street wise swahili. throwing out trendy casual slang, impressing everyone. bitch.
rubin needed trainers. daniel needed sandals. gabby needed more toys of course. so mo and i and the kids pile into the landrover. boys have to go on the back because there is no space in front cab. talk about snaggle toothed hill billies heading for town.... goddang. half way there, the boys bang on the roof to tell me to slow down. nerds. they said they were cold. so i relented and let one into the front and leant the other one my fake lion fur waistcoat. imagine? driving all the way through town? i nearly leant him those new zanzibari aviators too. it would have looked incredible. unbelievable. embarrassment (naturally and almost to my relief) flickered over his face and he muttered something like, "but what happens in a traffic jam?" i thought he was talking about you know, robbers and stuff but in fact i don't think he wanted to be seen DEAD in that coat.... its really warm. and really synthetic. it looks like you have a lion mane draped over you. in fact, its a really really weird waistcoat. i met some professional hunters the other night at the bar (yes i went out, imagine?) who said my god, we've been looking for a mane like that (pointing to my coat) in maswa (a hunting area) for years....(god. whatEVER dudes...oooooergh. so refined. so refined. bowls me over.)
i have never given my pukey fake lion mane waistcoat much thought really until today, when it caused such a stir at the market and i found myself turning down deals for it. i never even bought the damned thing. dear friend sooby gave it to me. and i love it. i saw its star potential. i am very very attached to it like i was to my green datsun twelve hundred. i wear it all the time and it keeps me warm. its glamorous, for fucks sake.
we drove home with second hand T-Shirts (about 5) , a pair of trainers, a pair of sandals, two small bears called "March" (???? i know!) and Valentina (the pink one), one double duvet and two hawaii shirts. all for 90 000 tshillings. divide that by 1150 to get dollars. hmmm about $78. (used my cell phone because solar calculator doesn't work at night) is this a lot ? or is this cheap?
everyone was very happy with their purchases and deals and i was more than delighted, faith and humour happily and instantly reinstalled when i discovered my phone in the landrover which meant no-one had pick pocketed me. phew.
then it was the ngorobob grassroots blues band practise back up in dem snaggle toothed blue grass country hills..
rubin (9) on bass, jasper (5) on rhythm and lead guitar, gabby (5) on violin and finley (3) on percussion (egging) and me the conductor (25) . this is the beginning of our song. its all on E (e string, em or emajor chord,..it doesn't matter - any form of e will do at this stage). 1 2 3 4 the guitars boom down on "1" and the violin comes in for 2,3,4 with egg shaking on "4".
what a mess. and so beautiful because everyone thought they were on time and utterly brilliant (even i did, surrounded by so many little prodigies in the making). mo is official band photographer.
it was exhausting trying to keep this lot together. in time, you know. the rudimentary beginnings of rhythm are ever so vaguely there. we have hope. the musicians soon tired and started opting out for biltong snacks and a game of doctors or mummies and daddies or god help me telly tubbies. these kids are so backwards, they don't even know about telly tubbies.
rubin said poker faced " everyone's dropping out of the band. it's like spinal tap. what are we doing next mum?"
gave peter, jane and pat a wide berth tonight. oooooergh.
right. think i am blabbing on again.
no kitchen board tonight because guess what? i forgot to buy batteries for my camera. again. and the old ones rattling around in the bottom of the camera bag are really really flat now.
and anyway - its only bread and paraffin on the list so far for tommorrow. must deposit cheque and maybe order some more water...and check horses wound, tennis..
toodely pip then and xxbisousxx j