Dealing with the death of a parent

My mother passed away a month and a half ago, a stroke at  69. My dad passed away 2 years ago at 89. Both very interesting people, neither wanted a church service, both just a short service at our local airfield, where after my brother and I scattered my dad’s ashes near the runway with a low-flight. For my mom we flew to Witsand, a half-hour away, scattering her ashes in the mouth of the Breede River. No frills, no fuss. That was how they wanted it.

My dad grew up with strange connotations to funerals. At his grandmother’s funeral his father stood afar, looking at all the people, telling my dad “ It’s a bloody circus, let’s go and have a fag”. My grandfather also refused to enter the church at his own wife’s funeral, seeing that all the family members who disliked his wife and treated him badly, were the main mourners. He stayed outside at the hearse.

My mom detested funerals with lots of flowers, purple ribbons, a photo of the deceased and messages of how much they loved the person. She made me promise – none of that! Many a funeral we would leave from and she would remind me to please adhere to her wishes, and so I did to the best of my ability. At her service I had a collage of photos of her with her grandkids, and of her laughing with a glass of Rose. My son read her favourite poem by William Wordsworth and we played Il Divo as the guests enjoyed a glass of wine to celebrate her life.

Not an easy task to adhere to a deceased’s wishes, for as my doctor and mentor stated: “Baby girl, people get funny when a loved one dies. You just stay grounded and centered in love”

And in all this, I have learned so many lessons. I have learned my own strength, as well as the fact that I do have immense respect for the deceased. I so strongly believe in respecting their wishes, that I did not go to a church service of an elderly friend of mine after he passed away a couple of years ago, merely for the fact that he didn’t want one - His wife and children felt it appropriate. I have also seen that in matters of “death” reactions of people have very little to do with the loved one, but mostly with themselves. How they cope, what they want, little messages and photos.  

But then “To each his own.”

As for me, I wanted to be alone with my husband and children. Focusing on helping my children through their grief. Respecting my mother and my upbringing to the bitter end – she used to say: “ A Tomlinson (my maiden name) handles all things in life with dignity”. At Diana’s funeral, when my mom saw the 2 boys walking behind the coffin, with no emotion, she said:” That is royal! They handle their feelings themselves, it’s not for the world to see.”

And what I teach my children –

“Smile, though your heart is aching,

smile, even though it’s breaking,

although a tear maybe ever so near,

 it’s the time you must keep on trying,

 smile, what’s the use in crying,

you’ll see that life is still worthwhile

if you just smile”

Cheer’s Mom and Dad, you are an inspiration!

Oscar Pistorius and Reeva Steenkamp

It’s been 3 weeks since Oscar Pistorius shot his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp and still it’s the main topic in conversations. Please understand me correctly, it is a terrible tragedy and my heart goes out to both families. What bothers me though is the fact that South Africa’s pride and joy, has in a single moment become the person most people love to hate. Found guilty before he’s been to trial. Friends and family quoting newspapers and magazines on his character, stating facts from the evening, how he’s a player, had a temper and loved guns. It seems that most people actually want Oscar to turn out to be a cold blooded murderer. However, call me naïve; I just see a terrible tragedy. I know for a fact that if they were not well known, the story might have reached the papers, though a small article, as the case with the rest of the murders in South Africa. It feels, that people so easily believe what the newspapers and magazines say (though when it suits them, they are quick to tell you one cannot believe a word they say). An interview from an ex-girlfriend (whom he dumped for Reeva and who already gave a derogative interview a while ago) is stated as the absolute truth, though the comment of another ex-girlfriend who stated that Oscar is kind and never lifted a hand to her, is conveniently omitted. If a temper and love for guns makes you a killer, well then I know a lot of men who qualify. And then there is the fact that he shot 4 times – I know the law, I used to have  a .38, but handed it in to the police a couple of years ago due to the fact that I am against violence (clearly visible in my art). Though years ago a friend once stated, that when you find someone in your house at night, though the law says you may not shoot until your life is in danger, you do so, even if you shoot the whole door out of its frame. And maybe this adds to the tragedy, that South Africa has become such a violent country, that we all fear for our lives on a constant basis, that yes when you are threatened you may over-react. Could it be possible that Oscar felt so vulnerable, that he actually felt responsible to protect Reeva? I can only pray that he tells the truth, for even if he accidently shot her, he has to live the rest of his life with the terrible guilt that he killed his girlfriend. And if he is guilty, I trust that the trial will prove it. As for the rest of South Africa, with all the derogative remarks (even on his disability), my heart is aching. I read recently “ What other people say of you, says more about them then of you” – well, I’ve really come to know people. And then, to all the other victims of murder in South Africa, I am truly sorry that you are not famous, for your lives are treated as less. As for me, a murder of a celebrity in Pretoria, a murder of a child on the Cape Flats, a murder of a farmer in the Free State, they are all a murder too much, and before South African society and politicians do not see it as such, we cannot build this country

Stop Violence against Women and Children

Black Friday, February 15, 2013 – finally South Africans unite in their disgust and horror after the recent brutal rape and murder of 17 year old Anene Booysen.  Rallies, forums, Face Book messages, all to stand up against rape.

But how is it possible that we stand together, only now. In a country where according to statistics a woman is raped every 4 minutes, where 85% of girls under 18 are  victims of some of other  sexual offence, where someone is murdered every 25 minutes . We live in an ever increasing violent society – the recent events concerning Oscar Pistorius  being a very good example. Some blame it on bad policeing, others feel the legal system cares more about the perpetrator’s human rights than that of the victim. Poverty, unemployment and drugs are all reasons being given, but what kind of human (very difficult to call it that) rapes a girl, breaks most bones in her body, cuts her open and leave her intestines alongside her body. Does this being deserve human rights?

I am fed up! I have had it up till here. For the last couple of years I have used my art to tell the international audience how we feel in South Africa  www.gradyzart.co.za - all my exhibitions I have made a point in taking the paintings that show the raw emotions of a nation torn apart. I have started a group on Face Book – Stop Violence against women and children ,http://www.facebook.com/groups/126240970875660/, my daughter made a video of my art for YouTube, expressing how we feel  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNEoqwumj2U.

I wear black today, I will continue to paint and advocate, and do whatever I can to make the world aware of what is going on in this country. I will not stop, it is my destiny.

Oh there is such beauty in age

I have recently turned 45 and it feels as if I am at this beautiful turning point in my life. I have decided that for the next 75 years (yes, I plan to reach 120) ,I want to live an honest life. I have always tried being honest and ethical when it came to other people, but from now on I want to be honest with myself. And if people see me as selfish, then I would say “good for me, it’s about time”

Too long have I done things that I didn’t like, because I felt I had to. One of the the things I will be honest about is camping; I hate it!!!!!. I do not mind as much being in a remote area for a day or two where I have to use a spade and a bush – then I shift my mind to coping; but camping in campsites, especially when touring through Africa, I have had enough. I do not want to pitch a tent at night, “braai” till late, go to a dirty ablution, get into bed with the tent and my hair reeking of smoke. Waking up at dawn due to other campers who cannot move quietly, then having to shower (I love to bath) in cold water, because nobody put wood in the “donkey”. Then it’s breakfast and the packing up starts, just to be driving for a whole day, till everything repeats again at night. No more…..

I would see Africa staying in Lodges. While my family is off on safari, I will gladly stay at the Lodge having a massage on the deck, with animal sounds in the background. And if I cannot afford it, I do not mind staying at home – it's clean and comfortable.

I realize that people see me as being arrogant and stuck-up, but again the beauty of my age – I actually do not care.

Comfort in Gucci

 I studied Fashion Design and worked in Cape Town before I got married 21 years ago and changed my roll to being a farmer’s wife.

I soon realised that in the country you do not wear high heels when doing your shopping at Spar, nor do you wear your vintage faux fur jacket when eating at the local steakhouse. My wardrobe had to change drastically, comfort being the keyword. Flat shoes, capris, T-shirts – basic attire for most women. My problem though, I have always loved clothes, and especially shoes – Duh! I’m a fashion designer! I tried toning down, and even after launching my artistic career,  tried more “artsy” clothes, but every time I would go to Europe I cringed. The impeccably dressed women (and men) in Paris, Milan, Florence. I would look at the clothes in the shop windows like a child at a toy shop. Always yearning…….., but we’re into comfort.

Until I bought my first pair of genuine leather Italian high heels. The most comfortable shoes I have ever owned. These feet have also had the privilege to have had a pair of Gucci’s on them – I would run with them. If you think of it, Italian shoes need to be comfortable for those girls to be able to walk on cobble stones as they do.

A year and a half ago I took over a gallery, now being in business I could finally dress up. But how to combine my “business” look with being an artist. Easy, I paint in high heels and jewelry. As a matter of fact, now that I have finally made peace with who I am and how I like to dress, I have even baked a bread while wearing a pair of comfortable Italian highs.

The lesson here, one needn’t call a pair of tracksuit pants, your husband’s old t-shirt and your worn out crocs comfortable, you can be perfectly comfortable in Lagerfeld , Gucci, and a whiff of  your favourite Pure Poison Elixer.

Oh my, and then there’s the  twinkle in my husband’s eye when he looks at me………

Dior, Gucci and Puccini

Ok, so I’m not a good “South African” – I hate rugby, I hate everything about it. I know, I know, one shouldn’t hate. But I hate the whole rugby culture, the ridiculous dressing up of fans, their juvenile behavior, the boozing, and yes the silly “cheer leaders”.

I do not care if other people like sports, but lets be honest, in our society its an obsession, even from primary school level. I do understand the psychology though, “sports” replaced “war”. But in every society that flourished in history, culture was very strong. Whenever they started neglecting the arts, the society neared extinction.

As a teenager, I listened to Pink Floyd, Queen, Vivaldi, Tsaikofski and Bach. I studied Fashion Design and am now Gallery owner and full-time artist, yet after 45 years I am still treated as odd because I love going to art museums, a good ballet, a beautiful opera or symphony. The idea of putting on a special outfit, a pair of gorgeous high heels, my favourite perfume and then enjoy a special evening with well-mannered people sounds enticing to me.

When as a young bride aged 23, my husband’s cousin met me for the first time, he described me to his parents as “ a rich, stuck-up lady” . At that stage I was definitely not impressed when hearing it , for I desperately wanted to fit in on the farm. Lately, I have been thinking about it more often, and its growing on me.

As I grow older and more and more grow into the person I really am, instead of what others expect me to be, I hope that one day he would say: “ she’s a rich, cultured lady, with an air of sophistication about her”, oh and if he still thinks I’m “stuck-up” that’s ok too.

Afrikaner self-confidence

I recently heard actress Blake Lively say in an interview that she is an “excellent baker” That immediately hit a nerve, for the way we were brought up, you would never actually say you are good at anything. The Afikaner would say “I love baking”, or “ in my spare time I bake”, but saying that you are excellent in anything is just a “no no”.

And so we grow up, not believing you can do anything. Your parents will compliment you, your school will give you prizes, but self-confidence still lacks.

With my career as an artist it is no different. I can do well in competitions, have  numerous exhibitions in USA, UK, Italy, France, China and India – great remarks and articles by critics – BUT when someone (normally  without art knowledge, I might add) walks into my gallery and criticizes my work, I cringe. My self-confidence gets a huge blow and I feel as if I cannot paint to save my life and have no knowledge on my subject.

I recently had the privilege to exhibit at the SIEL de Paris in Paris. It was the most wonderful experience and I learned so much. Watching other artists interacting with patrons, easily talking about their work, confidence beaming out of them !

Afrikaner children are brought up to be humble – at all cost, it seems to me, but isn’t our idea of being “humble” distorted ?

If I were given a talent by God,  then work hard at developing my talent, praising God daily for my talent and knowing that through the Grace of God using this talent,  is my destiny, am I not humble?

Are we really humble when we think we are incapable or are we actually just using it as a scapegoat, better than admitting you are too lazy to use your talents. Aren’t we then being extremely arrogant? Basically saying to God “ Ok Lord, You gave me talents, but they’re actually no good – as a matter of fact, not what I wanted at all. “

I think it’s time for this Afrikaner to change her attitude.

“Praise God, I’m an excellent artist!!!”