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!!!”

The pressure of being a South African Teenager

I am blessed with two teenagers - A Son who is taking a Gap year and studying a holistic honours certificate, due to the fact that he was unsure of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Last week my daughter of 14 had to do a LO task on the career that she might be interested in.

This brings me to my point. Are we putting too much pressure on our children? Why is it necessary for a 14 yr old to start figuring out what she wants to with her life till she retires with a inadequite pension fund at 65 - don't parents and the system put our children through hell by making them think this is the only answer. Some of the most interesting people (and they do not have a shortage of money) have done a lot of different things in life. I too have studied to be a Fashion Designer, worked in a factory, was a full-time waitress, a ground hostess at SAA, a journalist, and a marketer for a video chain. All before I got married at 24. Yes, I too grew up with the saying " a rolling stone gathers no moss" In fact I heard it far too often. Currently I am a professional artist and owner of an art gallery. And make no mistake, I am still growing. Retirement is not an option! At 80 I will still start new businesses, to expand not only my income, but to enrich my life. O, but don't for one minute think I am backed in my way of thinking. When my son decided on his Gap year, I was confronted by another parent who felt that I had to guide him into Architecture (which he was tested for and wanted to study most of his life) However I felt that being his life, he had to find his own path. I told him he should search with his heart, not his mind for the ideal career. That brought him to holistic medicine, which lately evolved into a dream of being a chiropractor. Actually if I look at the books he's been reading for the last couple of years, its pretty logic. My daugter on the other hand, are passionate about three things: baking, photography and music. A beautiful voice fills our house every morning and on weekends the smell of cake and buttercream icing. Last weekend she made the most beautiful fondant cake with a music theme. Should I have her tested, force her to go to university because of job security? Or should I not too trust her to find her passion? What if she does a Pastry chef course, then do a photograpy course, maybe also do a course in events planning (she can organize) and do other smaller courses. Will she not be able to mould her own career, wake up every morning with a smile and passion, for she's doing what she loves. I'm sure then she too will be a success, something so important to our society.

It often feels to me that parents not only try to achieve their own dreams through their children, but by forcing their children in careers actually indicate that they do not trust their children. It is so sad of our society, with a beautiful youth who if given half a chance can have the brightest of futures.

Lie to me

One of my favourite programs on tv is the series "Lie to me". Reading people's body language and expressions have always appealed to me and that is probably one of the main reasons I have such strong emotional components in my paintings. Now learning through this series about "micro" expressions have me all excited (actually it's almost like a fav pastime, especially between my son and myself. - "have you seen that expression? Oh he looks so guilty.....") This brings me to my point; why do people lie? I'm not even talking about life and death lies, but these small ones. The adding on to gossip, the exageration of an event. Do people in general not find themselves interesting enough that they have to make there stories bolder? What gets to me most is when someone close to you tells a story in a conversation about something that has happened to them, but it didn't really, it's actually your story (this has happened to me a lot). You want to yell out "You're lying! It happend to me you fool, not you!" I know I'm blessed with a wonderfully interesting life, but really " Get your own Life!". In times like these I'm also offended for the fact that this person will tell the story with me there, so now what? Am I that daft that I cannot remember my own life? I know I'm blonde, but I also know for a fact that I have an enormous amount of brain cells and a memory most people would kill for. I can clearly remember back to 3years old, not from photos or what other people told me, but events that only I know. I also have a clear memory of conversations and even who wore what when. So for someone to use my life as a means of colouring in theirs, is defnitely not ok. Now with this added knowledge of detecting lies, I can even spot a crappy story even if my life isn't involved. Which brings me back to why?Is it our society that demands so much that people feel inferior so easily? All I know, I would love to live in a society where honesty and integrity is at the order of the day. For if it's ok to lie about your life's events, what makes me think you will be honest in business.

Irena Sendler overlooked for Al Gore

I recently watched the film made on Irena Sendler, Catholic Polish Social Worker in the Jewish Ghetto in Warsaw during WW2. A remarkable women who managed to smuggle 2500 children out of the ghetto, provided them with false documents and housing outside the ghetto. She was arrested and tortured, but managed to escape. In 2007 she was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Who could be more entitled to such an honour? She was a sure winner. After reading up on her life, I discovered that she did not win the Nobel Peace Prize, but it was awarded to Al Gore, as well as the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change for their efforts to build up and disseminate greater knowledge about man-made climate change. Ok, please don't misunderstand, I am a passionate advocate for all things environmental. If I could build a house again it would be "green". We have solar panels for all our workers' geysers. We are in the process of erecting a windturbine and we are looking into more solar panels. I've seen the movie of Al Gore and thought it a very enlightening piece of work. So all and all, nothing against the winners, but can we really compare the effort they put into their research with that of a woman who put her own life on the line, not once as most heroes do, but 2500 times over months? Are we so obsessed with the buzz of climate change that we have lost our own humanity? Are we still shocked when we hear of a rape, a murder, child trafficking, child prostitution, genoside etc? Or have we become so numb to violence that when someone risks his/her own life for others that we see it as "old news". May it never be. A lot of my art is about violence, and yes it may not be in everyone's taste. But it is my tool to make the world aware  - yes, we need to look after the environment, but also after humanity too. All in balance. Irena Sendler, I salute you.

The Stolen Coat

Last Saturday, after we dropped our daughter off at Bellville High for hockey, my husband and I went to Cape Town to pick up our son. Within the 10min or so we spent in his apartment, someone broke the small side window of the Fortuner and stole my faux fur lined coat. Nothing else, just my coat. It is possible that the person was pressed for time, however with other valuables in the car, it was rather odd. However I believe that there is a lesson in everything that happens to you. My lesson - that there are people who are cold and desperate, who would break a window and steal a coat. I have the privilege of buying a new one, others just don't. The broken window is actually more of an ordeal, seeing that neither Toyota nor the glass companies have stock. You just have to love this country. My feeling towards the burglar - I pray that he is blessed for having my coat. It is the coat that I wore December in Florence during the Biennale as well as our travels through Germany, France and England. May the energy of happy times stay in the coat and enrich the person's life. May he be warm and see only better times ahead. As for me, all is well in my world.

Santa Maria del Fiore vs Kruger National Park

Please don't misunderstand, I love animals - I cried my heart out when my dog, and later my cat died. I care for my environment and respect and appreciate everything that God has created. I am a vegetarian (but have a soft spot for leather - though I do thank the animal who gave his life for my pleasure every time I put on a jacket.) However, for years I have struggled with the intense boredom that engulfs me, when I am in a National Park watching animals.It used to be relatively ok when I still drank a beer, had a sigarette and ate "droe wors" - But since I've given up on all 3, I'm just bored. I have felt so guilty about it for years, feeling there must be something terribly wrong with me. Am I that vain? Why do I feel like this when I am in nature that God created, but when I'm in a cathedral, temple, art museum or any place of historical value in Europe, I feel exhilirated. I just cannot get enough. I will visit every church, every cathedral, every building with interesting architecture, statues, mosaic, gold, stained glass you can think of. Walking in a street in Florence, Rome, Paris, London, Munich, Dinkelsbuhl - I am alive!!!!!! Only recently I started to understand - I love God's creation, and of all, I love people the most. I love diferent cultures; I love history; I love art; I love architecture; I love music - I simply love everything about people. My son once said that I should have studied Anthropology. I can sit and study people for hours - looking at clothing (I used to be a Fashion Designer after all), studying their body language, their interaction with other people, their emotions - seeing dreams and devistation in their eyes. A friend of mine once commented that it is odd that being an artist, I am not that fascinated by nature - on the other hand, mostly all of my paintings have people in them - and all are filled with emotion. So to each their own, some prefer the quiet of a park, some a walk in the veld, another watching animals - personally I prefer sitting inside the Santa Maria del Fiore, feeling the light through the stained glass windows, looking up at the frescoes and know that people just like me, once had this yearning to create something breathtaking to honour God.

Starting a blog

As I was driving my son back to Cape Town yesterday, I told him about my decision to be an alcoholic at 21 - at that stage I was working in a clothing factory in Cape Town and living alone in an apartment. In a depressed and lonely state, I decided that my only way to survive my depression would be to become an alcoholic. I had a box of semi sweet wine that my dad gave me in case I would have visitors, but seeing that I had none, that seemed like a good option. I preferred beer to wine, but in desperate times... So my first evening I had two glasses and then the sweetness just made it impossible to drink further. But I decided not to stress about it, the next evening I would do better. However I just could not face the wine again, feeling even more of a failure of not even managing that - My son laughingly suggested I must start a blog. My immediate reaction was that I know most people think I'm crazy, but with a blog they would have certainty. At his apartment in Cape Town, while washing the bathroom floor, I pondered on the idea of a blog a little more. I love writing and I looooove talking, so finally I can put all my feelings on paper. To this point in my life I have had most discussions with myself - actually constantly - my mind never shuts up. And yes, I do answer myself. Fortunately I love myself dearly, so all and all, not bad company. I have nothing to lose by writing a blog, for come to think of it, I have already opened up my mind and heart through my paintings, writing is just another medium.