Wednesday, November 28, 2012

paper thin...

by designer Ryan Thacker on
i want to write funny and i want to be good at it.
i don't want to let you two faithful readers down.
but frankly, some days (months as it turns out) nothing happens of note.
i am weighed under an insufferable creative low.
it's comforting to know that even geniuses like charles darwin had them.
i find his little missive (found on the fabulous Brain Pickings site: rather comforting:
But I am very poorly today & very stupid & hate everybody & everything. One lives only to make blunders.– I am going to write a little Book for Murray on orchids & today I hate them worse than everything so farewell & in a sweet frame of mind, I am

Ever yours
C. Darwin

i try and jot down clever clog things but it's impossible.

i am distracted by the local news.

two days ago a dead white woman was found in a valley not far from here. the police can’t identify her. they  sent out an email asking for help. she was found with her hands bound, a black bra, a white T shirt and one sock, bludgeoned to death with pangas so badly her eye colour can’t be determined. she is apparently around 30 or younger with blond hair to her shoulders. this haunts me well into the late hours of the night as storms flicker and rage just out of reach of the hill. images of her lying crumpled on some forgotten African plain, far from home, alone, flash with the lightning. i worry for her, for her family who don't know where she is or even that she is dead. that she died alone and terrified and abused. i worry they won’t find her killers, the killers who raped her and pangaed her so terribly and senselessly. 
don’t ever dare tell me there is a god.
i share this with you, not only because it brims in my brain, but you never know, perhaps someone will read this and it will lead to some sort of redemption. somewhere.

yes, oh bestests, things are paper thin here on the hill. the poor power supply, the lack of a decent shoe shop south of the Rufiji (i'm sure they exist in Mozambique), an internet which goes on and off like a lighthouse in slow motion, storms which rain 500m away, an unsolved terrible murder all ultimately wear you down. even a strong Famous Grouse only very temporarily smudges the edges. but not to be completely outdone, i shall go and pour one immediately and see if i can spy the nearly full moon between the rainless clouds and lightning. 
louise said it's terribly pretty.

i live in hope.
so there.

Kitchen Board: Wednesday 28 November 2012

perhaps i've left it too late. the lights have just gone off again. the generator is on. again.
but it's time to go and spy the rising moon. 
with a damned strong scotch, i say.
toodely toot, y'all and chin chin. bisous X.X.X. skin warmin' ones. x j


Robyn said...

oh my goodness-that is so upsetting, no wonder you can think of nothing else. a double is needed.
this week i am heartbroken, reallyit feels like that. i miss africa and that is hard to share...but i know you will understand annoying as the powercuts are. i tell you-life can be boring when things work.

Amanda said...

i'm at your side (with a martini no vermouth lots of olives- in other words straight vodka) in spirit, spying the rising moon. with an image in my head that won't soon be gone, of a woman, the lightning reflecting off her hair. i read of a horror like this and try to understand what joseph campbell meant when he advocated to participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world.

but you have eulogized her, here, with your beautiful words. and yes, maybe someone will see this and perhaps it will lead to some sort of redemption.

Bill said...

As I get older, one fact gets louder and louder, the irrefutable fact, nothing gets easier. And, there are few things we actually control. Then again, if you buy into the notion that life is one big joke, it's much simpler to separate oneself from evil.

karine ardault said...

I have been traveling out of the country for five weeks now, only bing home for 36 hours. In my notebooks I scribble ideas any time and then I got depressed that I do not have time to implement and create. then i feel like my inspiration is escaping me.
I got to know about the the horror that happened to this young girl while I am in an hotel room preparing meetings to make sure people accused of other horrible crimes are tried fairly and victims get justice. What is saddening me the most is that at the moment nobody seems to be looking for her. I am back soon home, in Arusha, if I can be of any help in any way, I will help (crime analysis and investigation is now my main activity).

Mud said...

The moon was full here in Laos last night. Something to focus on when the unimaginables of life are exhausting and never ending. Something Other that sits above inexplicable violence and remains constant. It doesn't always help, but without those sort of reminders, seeing beyond would be impossible.
Sending love,

elizabeth said...

This sounds all a bit GRIM
romantic but horrid
and no wonder it is driving you to drink.
I would send you electricity and stuff if I could.

The Darwin letter sounds a lot like the ramblings of David Shrigley which I adore.
I will send you a link when I find it.

Someone we know was murdered here just last month.
Hit on the head and ended up a "John Doe" in a hospital.
Lasted 5 days and then was switched it's not just Africa...... but you do sound to be feeling a bit vulnerable.

Daughter's best friend(aged 32) had brain surgery yesterday but is on morphine and texted Claud this morning.

Gosh. don't I sound cheery?

All this makes fruit and veggies look extra transcendental and all that.....

and so we go on

sending lots of love anyway


word verification 3413 ubarmi
is it sending coded messages?

JoeinVegas said...

Have the scotch and look at the moon and think of nice things, up north moonlight on the snow and soft cold breezes.

Nicola said...

But this is human life: the war, the deeds,
The disappointment, the anxiety,
Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,
All human; bearing in themselves this good,
That they are still the air, the subtle food,
To make us feel existence, and to shew
How quiet death is.
- John Keats

I'm sorry to hear this horrible news. Sending you hugs across the miles. x

Anonymous said...

Her name was Susan Wells and she was from Ontario, Canada. She had traveled to Tanzania many times, bringing donations and educational supplies for the women & children that she had been helping over the years. Her family and friends here at home are devastated and really don't understand why this happened to her.

Janelle said...

thank you all for popping by and leaving comments. anonymous, THANK YOU for leaving your comment. how very awful for her dear family. how utterly bewildering and very very sad...x j

Family Affairs said...

OMG poor Susan Wells and all that she did in Tanzania. Nothing makes sense. I am equally consumed with horrible images of the wonderful ex mayor of a town in Mexico who survived two assassinations only to be taken in broad daylight, beaten and burned and tortured and dumped - two children left behind, one who witnessed her kidnapping - in fact she willingly got in the car if they agreed to leave her young daughter alone - I cannot imagine that fear, that bravery, she fought for a better world for her children and for everyone and so did Susan.

I will drink a large Sauvignon blanc and look to the stars and toast you across the airwaves.

Big hugs.


Silvia Byrne said...

There are really no words to comment on a post like this one ... i was haunted by images after reading it last night. Except to say that sometimes nothing makes sense and we see such darkness everywhere ... but then we look to the moon and we see that there is still Light, always the Light, in spite of all of this. Much needed (as is the strong glass of scotch.)

Anonymous said...

I knew her well. I wish somehow someone could explain it. To think after all she did for the monster & he turned on her. Please tell me more facts.

Anonymous said...

Yes please further facts re: the white woman susan wells' shocking death. Its the violence of it that is so disturbing considering all she did to support the man who turned on her. I became friends with susan in 08/09 when I was in TZ and remained in touch thru social media since then. I contibuted to many of her fundraisers for her several return trips to TZ. Some explanation to rest the soul as how could you turn on her Joseph in such a way. What anger?!

Janelle said...

thanks for the comments. i will try and find out now that i am on holiday and school is over i have more time. it's a very very sad story. thank you. x j

Anonymous said...

Whatever you can find out would really help here in Ontario. We are being given conflicting stories. She trusted him with her life & the irony is beyond comprehensible.

Anonymous said...

I attended her funeral on Monday & the pain felt by a community is beyond measure. Anything you can find out for us may help to bring us closure. Thanking you.