The remainder of this year is turning out to be hectic well beyond my comfort zone. We are undertaking extensive and expensive renovations to our home: necessary and ultimately, I hope, cost-effective but energy- and time-consuming as well. At the same time our proposed sub-division flounders in the stagnant shallows of bureaucracy and, of course, there are my Zionist obligations.
Wish us luck!
But there are some pin-points of light at the end of the tunnel. Firstly, the Zulu village we visited in April this year has given permission for us to use the photographs we took of a remembrance ceremony. We want to combine this with other images of the Drakensberg acquired over the last decade into a book. The whole issue of publishing and the use of e-books is not something I am familiar with, so there is a steep learning curve ahead.
But in the meantime I’m including some decade-old pics taken with a digital point-and-shoot in jpeg and now edited using Lightroom.
Photos such as these elicit pleasure from everyone They symbolise richness, diversity and are immensely attractive to all peoples no matter how sophisticated or pre-technological; whether desert dwellers, jungle residents or at home in the Arctic circle. Perhaps the only people they won’t appeal to are art critics – far too chocolate boxy. So what!?
It may not be art but I knows what I likes.
Besides, I’ve just returned from a wonderfully inspiring trip to the Klein Karoo: incredibly diverse and and appealing to the lovers of nature and Man in nature. It is home to amazing characters who find in its wildness and beauty a niche for their idiosyncrasies and creative instincts. This too must be worked up so there is plenty on my fork to carry me into 2014.
Must take it slow ‘nd easy and there is a trip to the Cederberg at the end of September to break any stress build-up. For a change I’m ending with a short “poem”. Enjoy – that’s an order!
“The Angry Man
by Phyllis McGinley
The other day I chanced to meet
An angry man upon the street
A man of wrath, a man of war,
A man who truculently bore
Over his shoulder, like a lance,
A banner labeled ‘Tolerance.’
And when I asked him why he strode
Thus scowling down the human road,
Scowling, he answered, “I am he
Who champions total liberty
Intolerance being, ma’am, a state
No tolerant man can tolerate.
When I meet rogues,” he cried, “who choose
To cherish oppositional views,
Lady, like this, and in this manner,
I lay about me with my banner
Till they cry mercy, ma’am.” His blows
Rained proudly on prospective foes.
Fearful, I turned and left him there
Still muttering, as he thrashed the air,
“Let the Intolerant beware!””