Supernova

Observation on a Tuesday

Drained
As pasta is when you went past al dente 
But relieved none the less that it was done,
the molehill had been conquered.

We loafed around on my couch
with intentions of going to the beach
because, you know, when the sun shines the day has to be seized.

Instead we just walked along the harbour,
and then went our separate ways to our separate beds.

The surface shivered
the way water pulsates when a cellphone vibrates next to it.
It was a glorious day.
Sunshine, finally sunshine.

I caught movement on the right
out of the corner of my eye.
Next to pier there was a bird of some kind,
nondescript
in its grayish brownishness.

He stuck its head partially underwater,
scanning, scouring for fish,
just dipping his head in.

With a sudden burst of energy he is submerged
paddling  in slow motion
through the clear water.

I watch as his little feet kick- one two three four times.

The smallest sound and the bird is back,
a fish in the beak
and air in his lungs.

This happens time after time:
the dedication to finding food
going under
coming up
every time a success.

He proceeds like this along the length of the sidewalk
I stalk him as he glides soundlessly through his life.

He is the centre of expanding circles.
Always the circle
rippling out
in between waves of magnetic lines.

This beauty of a bird
This nucleus of a small life,
and no one sees him.

No Man's Land

Like I said, the other day I went to a photographic exhibit. I expected white walls, red wine and people standing around in muted silence, careful to look contemplative but not to utter any real opinion of the work.

This place, exhibited at somewhat of an in-between space called Mein Haus am See (My beach house?) , was full of hip-looking people wearing Ray Bans, skinny jeans and untamed hair. Many girls opted for jeans shorts over dark tights and with little booties. I probably shouldn't be too judgmental of people who are all trying to look like an individual and yet somehow all end up looking alike. It is just interesting to note how cool kids everywhere stick to the same trends, whilst believing that there is an individual culture, an spin that each one puts on their outfit that will set them apart from all the rest.

Seeing the actual photographs was a bit of a mission since the photos were hung on the wall and there was a labyrinth of Sperrmüll couches in between me and said wall. I'm guessing the point of an exhibition is to actually see the work, but here one needed a telescope to really view the photographs. 

Luckily, Photocircle, who hosted the entire thing, is more an online platform where one can look through the work of numerous photographers and then, for a reasonable price, order the works in various formats and sizes. A percentage of the proceeds goes to a charity of your choosing and then you get sent you new artwork. Especially in an age where tourists go around snapping pictures of everything that moves (or doesn't), this project aims to give something back not only to the community whose image has been appropriated but also to the photographer. Wonderful. 

Here is an explanatory video:

On Photocircle I could also have a closer look at Kevin Russ's work, and it makes me want to jump into my own camper van and drive across the USA. Have a look:

Street Bison

Cloudy Horse Head

Umpqua Rays

Winter Horseland

Anderson Lake

Rocky Mountain Moose

Sunrise Forest

Bitten

The SPCA in Pretoria is closing due to lack of funding. Already I think we are a country where a large proportion of the population has no regard for animal life, be it because they are too poor to consider the well-being of animals beyond seeing them as a source of income/food or be it because culturally animals are considered either in their use as a protective device against intruders or as an investment (think for example of paying lobola or keeping a herd of cattle because they are a symbol of wealth). Now there will be one less place where the lost, the unwanted, the abused can go and maybe find a happier life with another adoptive family.

The feral dogs living in and around the townships are often classified as Africanis, and always look mangled, neglected, rejected and dangerous to me. However, in his photographic series of the same name Daniel Naudé has managed to capture the dogs in something of a regal light, in the same vein as old portraits of hunting dogs.

Africanis 10. Strydenburg, Northern Cape, 1 April 2008

Africanis 12. Richmond, Northern Cape, 4 April 2009

Africanis 19. Graaff-Reinet,
 Eastern Cape, 15 May 2010

Africanis 20. Petrusville,
 Northern Cape, 19 April 2011

Walk it off.

It was not like touching another living thing. Snakes, dogs, cats, lovebirds, horses, sheep, cows, humans, everything that breathed still somehow conveyed its being-alive-ness. I mean, Jesus, that snake-touching was no fun because it was a 3m python, but still, through the clammy coldness it was alive and, well, it could (try to) eat me.

Not the elephant though. The elephant felt strangely like touching a stuffed museum exhibit. Her skin was harder than I had expected, seemingly impenetrable, with bristles sticking out and a layer of mud caked on. I knew she was observing me, and feeling me sort of man-handling her stomach, the bottom of her back foot, the hairs at the end of her tail and the patch of skin behind her eye with some kind of special gland in it (I wasn't listening as intently as I should have to the elephant handlers). It was as though I was playing every part in the parable of the blind men and the elephant, except that I knew I was touching an elephant.

Only upon touching the back of her ear did it feel less like interacting with a 7t dirty rock and more like she could crush me whenever she felt like it. I felt an interesting contradiction between fascinatedly touching something so big and powerful, but at the same time so silent and vulnerable. All the elephants at the sanctuary near Hartebeespoort are orphans. Their families had been culled because of overpopulation in the Kruger National Park, and they were the only ones that could be relocated. So aside from the threat of crocodiles mauling their trunks, predators attacking them and humans killing them for their ivory, the elephant is on the endangered species list because it needs space to survive, and we are encroaching on its habitat.

It was a bit sad to have to resort to making an interaction with elephants all about taking photographs. On the tour one hears almost everything one can about the loxodonta africana. Then one proceeds to feed them handfuls of pellets, after which one enters one by one to pat the elephant down and pose for a photograph. At the end one walks around an enclosure, with the elephant's trunk in hand.

The entire visit was very cool to experience, but it also felt a bit rehearsed, as though we were at Disneyland queueing to go on a ride. Here we were just queueing to touch something frightening and beautiful. For instance, for the trunk-in-hand walk, I know the elephant did not want me to hold his trunk (I was walking with a different one than Ms. Elephant) because he kept pulling it away. Which I can understand, I also don't like holding people's hands. But then the handler would authoritively say a command, and the trunk would be back in my hand. Sorry Mr. Elephant.

If you are ever in Gauteng and don't know what to do, this is great. But I would bear in mind that this is an animal that could crush you, and not merely a great photographic opportunity to show to your friends back home.

Hello Ms. Elephant

You know I need you now

I and the world.
What will I have for breakfast?
What do I want to do today?
What am I in the mood for?
What do I like?

I. I. I.
It's always about me, about how I am doing in my little life.
In an attempt not to become entirely self-obsessed or go stir-crazy, I enrolled for free online courses on Coursera and decided to volunteer at the SPCA or WetNose.

WetNose is an animal shelter where the animals can remain until someone adopts them, meaning that they are not put down after a certain amount of days. The centre is situated between Pretoria and Bronkhorstspruit, but the 15 minute driving estimate that their website gives is very optimistic. It's about 25km from my house to WetNose, and add onto that the R12 toll gate fee. So this is not the ideal volunteer job for a broke person.

Initially I was a bit confused as to what I should be doing, but then I was told that you can either walk the dogs or play with them or groom them. For the cats you can sit with them in their enclosures and try to let them allow you to touch them. For today I stuck to the dogs.

Luckily, there was another lady who was there for the first time, and thus we spent our time taking out dogs who shared an enclosure (most often they are on their own) for a walk and talking about ourselves (haha). In the four hours we were there, we walked 10 dogs, but that doesn't even make a dent in how many dogs there are. Fortunately there are other volunteers and the staff also walks with the animals.

My mom was probably afraid I would not be able to resist and take in a dog or five. But not knowing what the future holds means that it would not be fair adopting a dog now and then, a few months down the line, taking him/her back because I'm moving away.

I know volunteering is all about giving back to the community and helping out when someone is in need, but whereas people mostly choose the role they play in their own life, these animals did not deserve to be categorised as 'unwanted', 'stray' or 'seized'. No one deserves being abused, neglected or abandoned, be it human or animal.

Today was equal parts sad and joyous. It gladdens the heart to see that a little attention can go a long way to providing some happiness for dogs that are cooped up in little cells all day long. But it is also very disheartening to see the amount of animals that have been there for months, if not years. I hope that someone for all of them is found that is willing to adopt them despite not being puppies or pure bred or without issues.

In their song Sit down by the fire by The Veils, the singer says he is "drunk on the sadness of a world unmanned", but maybe the problem is that we feel the need to possess the world, that we need to control all that happens and are then terribly shaken by everything we cannot predict. I mean, I get agitated when the weatherman doesn't get tomorrow's weather right because it either leaves me carrying a jacket or missing one.

But perhaps the world would be a better place if it were entirely unmanned, only animaled. Nature would sort itself out without us ruining it all in an attempt to improve it all.

Jailbird

We are everywhere, taking over every space, claiming rights to land and littering the landscape with our presence. All else is locked away, 'safely', for its own protection, and our benefit.

I wonder if ultimately our claim to ownership of all we see, our feeling of 'it is my right' when it is not, is not humanity's greatest hubris.

We went on a game drive in KZN, searching for animals to spot, to photograph. All carnivores eluded us. It is a bit ironic, isn't it, killing and culling for centuries before realising that we have nearly exterminated what we now so dearly wish to capture in an image, to show our children for when all the rhinos have been poached, when all ivory has been taken, when all leopards have been hunted, when the only wildlife can be found in zoos and online images. I don't know.

There is too much that needs saving.