1. A conversation
2. A good feeling
3. At the time
4. Dreams and scale
5. An X
6. Bret
7. Gerrard
8. Knock on the floor
9. Matchboxes
10. New mix
11. Newspapers
12. Purple
13. Sebastian
14. Steve
15. Wisdom of gardens
16. What would it be
17. Dropping wine glasses
18. Two memories
19. The Ninja Tunes
20. When she agreed
21. Tattoos
22. Back in Joburg again
23. Wind
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Joburg winters are yellow and blue. Flat and horizontal and sprawling. You can
drive endlessly through it and it is grey, yellow and blue for kilometres on end.
Yellow tops of trees and blue sky.
I'm sitting in my studio again. Back at home with my parents in Johannesburg. I'm
on the fold out couch not folded out, with ten-to-four winter sunlight stretched out
onto my left arm. I've just written out the piece of writing from the "Basquiat" CD
sleeve while looking through my old high school art. The theme for our final piece
was "Yourself". I've been starring at four self portraits lying on the floor in front of
me.
I can drive the streets and it feels okay. But here in my studio I feel how sad it is to
live far from home. Where is she? Beer tastes like salty saliva. Memories arrive like
snips of paper dropped from above and I don’t look to see where they come from. I
just watch my cigarette and my two fingers and the colours behind and the portraits
behind that and these snips falling down.
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