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.