That's what your mother said!

I'm Afrikaans. For those of you that have not heard of it, it’s a West Germanic language, spoken natively in South Africa and Namibia. It is a daughter language of Dutch, originating in its 17th century dialects, collectively referred to as Cape Dutch (a term also used to refer collectively to the early Dutch settlers). Although Afrikaans adopted words from languages such as Malay, Portuguese, the Bantu languages, and the Khoisan languages, an estimated 90 to 95 percent of Afrikaans vocabulary is ultimately of Dutch origin.

I speak the language and it is more than just semantics, it's a culture where people are raised in a specific way. There is a stigma that goes with being Afrikaans. Most of the people are conservative, super religious and have terrible taste in music. Like this idiot :S

Steve Hofmeyr

This is partly due to the fact that the Apartheid government had a jugular-death-grip on the media. For decades not allowing the public to read or listen to anything but local produce. Pumping propaganda not only from the airwaves; but also from the ministers of the local churches. 

This is something I have been rebelling against for as long as I can remember.

But Afrikaans as a culture is a topic for another day.

That being said there is nothing as great as speaking in your mother tongue, especially such a descriptive and sometimes ‘angry’ language as Afrikaans. Below a song by an Afrikaans artist Koos Kombuis. Please bear in mind this no longer falls into the cheesy Afrikaans music category but the artist is one of the “underground” players in the Apartheid regime. I chose one of my favourites "Liefde uit die Oude doos" roughly translates to "Old school Love".  Google translate if you keen: P

Liefde uit die oude Doos

Ek wil lewe in jou skaduwee, ek wil jou blik oor alles voel
Elke oggend as die son opkom, oor my bed en kas en stoel
Ek wil weet net hoe en wat jy is, ek wil jou fyn maal op die wal
Ek wil jou rook soos goeie kruie uit die diepste, diepste dal
Ek wil jou dophou as jy luister na die woorde van matrose
Ek wil saamgaan op jou strooptog, ek wil deel in jou psigose

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Ek het ‘n suster net soos jy. Sy dwaal rond in ou, ou gange
tussen prente en portrette, en wardrobes van verlange
Die hemel is in LSD. Die hel ook as jy my vra
Die paragrawe wat jy brei, is ‘n trui vir Mamma Afrika
Ek wil jou rondwys in my hart, maar jy mag dit nie onthou nie
Die knoppie is op pause, maar my boude is nie blou nie

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans Goddeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Dis ‘n bitterbessie dagbreek, dis ‘n uitroep komma-punt
Mabalel is huistoe, want sy mis haar eie kind
Ek wens ek kon jou teken met ‘n koukie of ‘n kwas
Ek wens ek kon onthou hoekom ek so bewerig was
Ek wens ek kon jou oopskryf, met my balpunt pen behaag
Ek wens ons kon saam wakker word in ‘n youth hostel in Praag

God is edel, God is boos, God is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Paul Kruger likes to party

A certain time of year

No, this isn’t a post about Christmas. To be honest there is nothing more annoying than fake Santas in their warm and woolly red suites. It’s South Africa for crying out loud, we have hot and humid festive seasons at the sea side!

I’m talking about that end of the year feeling, when everything winds down at work, you’re not as busy and you reflect about the past year. Well 2011 has been a strange one. Best friends getting married, people dear to me passing away, the end of a long term relationship the start of a new chapter. It kind of leaves you with a haunting nervousness for the future onset with the realization that everything depends on certain choices you make in life.

It reminded me of a poem by Christina Rossetti called “Remember”. The poem is so versatile it can be about losing a person dear to you, the end of a relationship or just the end of an era in your life. It is a poignant poem with soft positive undercurrents that will stay with me for a long time. Christina Rossetti life spanned from 5 December 1830-1894 and although it’s more than 100 years ago this piece of poetry is timeless.

Remember me when I am gone away,  

Gone far away into the silent land;  

When you can no more hold me by the hand,  

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.  

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:  

Only remember me; you understand  

It will be late to counsel then or pray.  

Yet if you should forget me for a while  

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave  

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,  

Better by far you should forget and smile  

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Time is a'ticking

I have hugs for you if you were born in the 80's

If your Friends don't dance. Then they ain't no friends of mine.

I was born in 80's. The last sane generation.We are the last generation that learnt to play in the street. We are the first who played video games, see cartoons in colour and go to amusement parks. We were the last to record songs off the radio onto cassettes and we are the pioneers of walkmans and chatrooms.We learned how to program the VCR before anyone else. Played with the Super Nintendo and believed that the Internet would be a free world.Wore dungarees. Parents called the cinema a bioscope. Applied insulation tape over the holes on the TDK tape to record off the Hi-Fi. Didn't have a TV remote and had to stand up to change channels. Played cricket in the street with cars driving by. The Tamagochi. We are the generation of the Thunder Cats, the Transformers, Scooby Doo, Mina Moo, Tom And Jerry, Lion King, Popeye, Biker Mice from Mars and  Puppy in my Pocket. Witnessed the birth Boy Bands. Did the Macerana when it was still on the Billboard Top 100. Travelled in cars without seat belts or air-bags. Lived without cell phones. Rode our bicycles down the road without brakes. We never had a phone but still kept in touch.The days when a Blackberry was simply a fruit.We did not have PlayStation, 99 television stations, flat screens, surround sound, mp3s, iPods, computers and the Internet. We turned out pretty ok.

And just to share my love for fellow 80's babies. Especially the ones from South Africa!

 Some Calvin Harris :)

Scribble..Scribble..Sweet..Nothings

There are very few things in life that get me excited, and to most people it might sound weird the fact that I love secondhand shops. Yes you heard right, not flashy cars, high heels or sports. Secondhand shops. Especially secondhand book shops. The untidy kind :)

There is not a better feeling in the world than finding beaten up copy of a book that you have been searching for. It's a treasure hunt of sorts, well to me atleast. I believe that when you find a specific book you have been searching for (yes I have a list) then the universe is telling you to read it, it's the right time.

I like the fact that secondhand books will always be shrouded in mystery. You don't know where its from or where its been, except if there is an inscription. It might have been a birthday present, a token of hope during a tough time, some messages so private you don't understand how it ended up where it did.

I came across the Book inscriptions project (http://bookinscriptions.com/), fellow booklovers that have a whole website dedicated to inscriptions from the bizarre to poetic love confessions to random scribbles on the page. Some of my favourites below.




Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets- JK Rowling

 

"Property of Mike, who is cooler than his stupid sis"



Elliot Smith-Autumn De Wild 

"For Tara,

Because no one ever gave

you a book with an

inscription before,

because you love photographs,

because we are obsessed with

Elliott, and because I’m

in love with the world

through the eyes of a girl.

Seth"



Seven Plays- Sam Shephard

"Note to Self:

Eat more fiber

Drink lots of water"



Doctor Bey's Suicide Handbook- Derek Pell



7/11/83

"CS
When all else fails
Read the instructions.
Jim"



The man who sang and the woman who kept silent

One of my favourite artists is South Africa's own Judith Mason (http://www.judithmason.com/). I "discovered" her art one Friday afternoon at the Pretoria Art Museum, and haven't been able to get it out of my head. Her artwork leaves you with a kind of haunting feeling, the work draws extensively on religion, but it is also informed by her exploration of mythological creatures. Animals like the leopard, hyena, ape and monkey feature widely in her work as they symbolise our lower instincts. Another important feature is the fusion between beauty and ugliness. This symboilises the fact of how awful and misleading pain is. Her work also reflects on socio-political issues, such as homeless people, street children, HIV/AIDS, abortion, war and the conflict under Apartheid.

Background

Judith Mason was born in Pretoria in 1938. She studied at the University of the Witwatersrand in the 1950s, obtaining a BA Degree in Fine Art in 1960. Her first solo show was held in 1964. In the 1970s and 80s Mason was highly visible in the South African art world at a time when the country was isolated both politically and culturally from the rest of the world. In the early 1990s Mason returned from living and teaching in Florence, Italy. At this time, her work became part of the South African school and university curricula. Mason is still prolific well into in the 21st century and is represented in major public collections in South Africa, as well as in Europe, the USA and Australia. Apart from producing a large body of work over the decades, Mason has published her work in books, sometimes in collaboration with poets. She lives and work in South Africa, and has a studio in the United States of America.

 Favourite Art  Pieces and Judith Mason Quotes

Waiting (2005)

"My mantra is that ‘Everything that lives is holy’ – with the exception of racists, demagogues, mosquitoes and people who fix cricket matches"

Middle aged Daphne, Middle aged Eve (1972)

"My politics are liberal humanist. My faith is inquisitive infidel – not atheist, as I loathe the condescension of their secular priests."

Battery Hen (1987)

"Life has been, for me, a mass of contradictory and often threatening stimuli, flashing past at random. My attempts to catch, pin down and identify some of these are what my work is about."

Monkey Shrine / Triptech (1987)

"I am a crone, not a woman, and I want to embrace all the freedom that this status bestows"

The man who sang and the woman who kept silent (1998)

The man who sang and the woman who kept silent (1998)

This artpiece is one of three pieces. I had to share the history behind it.

This work was partly inspired by a story Mason heard on the radio in 1995, at the time of the Truth and Reconciliation hearings. It was about the execution of a liberation-movement cadre, Phila Ndwandwe,who the security police tortured and kept naked for ten days, before assassinating her in a kneeling position. Before Ndwandwe was killed, she made a pair of panties for herself out of a piece of blue plastic. Later, when Ndwandwe’s naked body was discovered in a shallow grave, the thin piece of plastic still covered her private parts. The first part of the title refers to another cadre, Herold Sefola, who asked to sing Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrica (South Africa's National Anthem) before he was executed.This is for all the victims of the Apartheid regime even after it was abolished.

Amazing isn't it? SuzieQ

Movember, Waterfalls and Sandwiches

(moustache much?)

Ok so the topic of November is Movember (see what I did there :P). Im sure you have all heard about the movement. Basically its a global fund and awareness raising campaign focusing on men's heatlh, specifically prostate cancer and other cancers that affect men.

On Movember 1st, guys register at Movember.com (http://za.movember.com/) with a clean-shaven face and then for the rest of the month, these selfless and generous men, known as Mo Bros, groom, trim and wax their way into the annals of fine moustachery. Supported by the women in their lives, Mo Sistas, Movember Mo Bros raise funds by seeking out sponsorship for their Mo-growing efforts.

Personally, when I think of moustaches one person jumps to mind. Peter Selleck. No Mo can beat the original Mo Master. So when I was doing some research on him, I stumbled upon the most random blog, not only is it a visual time machine of the Mo Master's career as an entertainer, it is combined with two other equally appealing forces. Waterfalls and Sandwiches. Seriously its a winning recipe.  

Good job guys, it made my day.(http://selleckwaterfallsandwich.tumblr.com/).

Trust me on the sunscreen

One of my favourite songs is called "The Sunscreen Song". Originally a column written by Mary Shmich, titled "Advice like youth probably wasted on the Young" appeared in the Chicago Tribune on the 1 June 1997 . It then circulated as an internet hoax stating it was the commencement speech of the grads of MIT the same year.

The email caught the attention of Australian film director Baz Luhrman known for films "Moulin Rouge", "Romeo and Juliet" and "Australia". He was so inspired bu the words, he bought the rights to the lyrics and converted it into a song. The end product a seven minute long song performed by Lee Perry. Read below.

The Sunscreen Song

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Awesome right? Suzie Q

A Picture tells the story of a Thousand words

I have always liked photography. Black and white especially. However I detest the sight of posed photo's. You know what Im talking about. The smile that looks the same in every photo, the pout, the "let's lean on this branch and stare into the horizon". Bull. Photographs need to capture a moment in time, it has to be spontaneous, sometimes without the "target's" knowledge of the photo being taken. Bottomline a photo has to tell a story.

I read the book The Bang Bang Club: Snapshots of a Hidden War, about two years ago (apparently there is a motion picture, however I haven't had the chance to watch it). Its a graphic biography about four photographers active in townships in South Africa during the Apartheid period, particularly between 1990 and 1994, from when Nelson Mandela was released from prison to the 1994 elections. Greg Marinovich, Kevin Carter, Joao da Silva and Ken Oosterbroek are the members of the "Club".

The name "The Bang Bang Club" was born out of an article published in the South African magazine Living. Originally named The Bang Bang  Papparazzi it was changed to "Club" because the members felt the word paparazzi misrepresented their work. The name comes from the culture itself, township residents spoke to the photographers about the "bang-bang" in reference to violence occurring within their communities, but more literally, "bang-bang" refers to the sound of gunfire. 

Two of these photographers produced Pulitzer prize winning photos. See below.

Violence in the Townships

Inhlazane, Soweto, September 15, 1990. An ANC supporter hacks at a burning Lindsaye Tshabalala as a young boy flees. Spot News in 1990. Photo by Greg Marinovich

Help Needed in Sudan

A vulture seems to stalk a starving child in the southern Sudanese hamlet of Ayod, March 1993. Photo by Kevin Carter

The story behind the pictures

Greg Marinovich's photo: This is a depiction of extreme violence in the the townships from that time period. Supporters of South Africa's African National Congress brutally murdering a man they believed to be a Zulu spy. Firstly they necklaced him (i.e. fill a car tyre with petrol, put it around the victim's neck and set it alight). The spy was trying to escape, this enraged the ANC supporter and he gave him a machete to the head.

Kevin Carter's Photo: There is a lot of controversary surrounding this photo. Kevin was sent to Sudan to photograph the suffering locals of the famine at the time, in order to create awareness and hopefully more organisations would help. There was a lot of hopeful mothers standing around with their children waiting for the UN trucks to deliver them food as promised. The trucks finally arrived and the mother of the child in the photo put her child down away from the trampling masses and Carter captured this moment. The mother came back afterwards with food for both of them. Kevin Carter comitted suicide a year later, due to depression and guilt from the media onslaught of his 'exploitation' of this child in the photo.

Bubble bubble toil and trouble.

Advertising. Its everywhere. Streetpoles, billboards, radio, busses, trains, TV, online, your cell phone, sports teams, events are sponsored by big brands. Everywhere. Dont you wish you could say "Stop! Enough!"

Well artist Ji Lee has a very unique approach to counter constant brainwashing by big corporates. In 2008 he started The Bubble Project. (http://www.thebubbleproject.com/). They believe in giving the individual a voice to retaliate against the onslaught of media attack. They transform the one way forced communication from the corporates to an open public dialogue. Encouraging individuals to fill in these bubbles with any expression free from censorship. More bubbles mean more freed spaces, more imagination and more fun.

Below some of my favourites, have a look on the website, I can spend hours there :)

What is in a name?

Well, some people might wonder why I chose this specific name for my little room in cyberspace.


Firstly no its is not inspired  by the Supertramp song entitled "The Soapbox Opera". In all honesty I have never heard of that song prior to me starting this blog, in the mean time I have had a look at it and some of the lyrics are quite cool.


The name is a play of words.


Im sure you've all heard of the expression "Standing on your Soap Box"
i.e. Soapbox is a raised platform on which one stands to make an impromptu speech, often about a political subject. The term originates from the days when speakers would elevate themselves by standing on a wooden crate originally used for shipment of soap or other dry goods from a manufacturer to a retail store. It can be used as a metaphor where people make flamboyant speaches about a topic very dear to their hearts.


Then you also get a "Soap Opera"
i.e. A television series depicting the interconnected lives of many characters often in a funny, sentimental and melodramatic way, often capturing pop culture trends. The name Soap opera refers to their origins as radio broadcasts in which various soap manufacturers were the show's sponsors.


I thought I would combine the two into "The Soapbox Opera"
Voicing my subjective opinion on a couple of topics (political or not) and experiences
(Standing on my my Soapbox).
Whilst upholding a tongue in cheek, over dramatised way of communicating that will entertain and hopefully keep my audience (whether it's just me and two friends) coming back for more
(My own Soap Opera).


Suzie Q