Smile just for you

When I wake up in the morning
love
and the sun light hurts my eyes

And something without worning
love
bears heavy on my mind.
Then I look at you and the world's alright with me

Just one look at you and I know it's gonna be -

A lovely day - lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day

Lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day.
A lovely day - lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day

Lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day.

When the day that lies ahead of me seems impossible to face

And someone else instead of me always seems to know the way
Then I look at you and the world's alright with me

Just one look at you and I know it's gonna be -

A lovely day - lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
...
When the day that lies ahead of me seems impossible to face
...
A lovely day - lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
lovely day
...

And for those who don't know: it's Bill Withers.

no sunshine, no warmth and yet i lovely day. Thank you for it. :)

It's Good and it's nice!

Charels Kekana: I’m talking about a dude who dried his own teabags, so he could use them again! We been doing that shit! Then these people wanna come here and teach us about recycling, we been doing that shit bitch!

Early notice

When I have no money and no car and because I have nothing else to give you don't ask me if I'm joking. I can and will very much both physically and verbally attack you and if the physical doesn't work out in my favour, the mournings interesting bruise will serve as an reminder that i really do not give a fuck.

who, or what you are. Early notice.

By the way I really hate you regardless of skin tone! i'm not discriminate. I just... am.

The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.

• As quoted in Van Gogh : The Self-portraits (1969) by Fritz Erpel, p. 17

Limerence

So... like... this is my first video project and it wasn't a cake walk to make. Up and downs, self doubt, others doubt, taking smack talk, smack talking myself but it finally got done. In Fantastic Mr Fox Felicity Fox tells Foxy that they're poor, but they're happy. Um... this applies to this project as well, no budget, getting kicked off tennis courts and having to pay spot fines of R200 from a guy looking to buy a new black hummer thong. Massive respect to all involved we DID IT!

The video is Limerence, song by my favourite artists in SA Voicetag, this probably should be labelled nepotism, if we don't learn from our government who will? The beat was made by Richard III and is way too beautiful. Anyway, I had the opportunity to work with the dream team and we finally have something to show for it. It was a concerted team effort and the video I think speaks for itself.

Adam and I were going for a simple complexity with the video which I believe we were able to achieve. Not easy, a lot of labour went into achieving this, a lot of shooting, a lot of footage and a lot of negotiation.

Now for the thank you's

To D-Money Cloughing Cakes! You are incredible!!!!!! turning photography into film the stop frame is simply amazing and it's all to you!

Adam Kent Wiest, you are the video no doubt!

Thandi, for believing in the project from its inception! amazing make up! amazing person! you are amazing!! thank you!!! LOVE for you dude! so much of it!

Voicetag, for making such inspiring music!!!

ODC for all the assistance in the process!

Jody! For doing the styling on the first shoot!!! thank you!

C-Dizzy Fonseca! Jade De Waal! Super NAT Memela and Themba Stewart!!!!! thank you so much for looking so epic in the video!!!

Storm thank you so much for helping with wardrobe and styling!!

Richard, for making the beautiful song and for the conversation that resulted in the videos creation! Thank you so much sir!! You sparked this entire fire!

J-Dizz!!!!! I can't even say how much you meant to the project, you were magnanimous in your contribution and words would my gratitude an injustice!! you're something else and I can only appreciate your being and interest in the project! Beauty is you bru!

Chris Kets and Remy thank you so much for the assistance gentlemen appreciation and a thousand thank yous.

To Fly On The Wall thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!! If Fil didn't invite me into the office after my first email and Bryan didn't tell me to get off my lazy ass, I don't think we would have what we do today!

This video had consumed me for the past couple of months and I'm just glad that we finally have it done.

Thank you to all who came out to show support last night! it was fucking epic!! Thank you to all my friends who've supported and spent time speaking to me about this motherfucker, it's finally done! i can only say thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!!!

"It was always the way I loved it, cause it was never the way I planned it." Jake Lipman

You're vegetarian? It's okay, you can eat tripe.

After getting up and walking away from the seat I was in for fear of the Ox kicking it’s hoof through my raised forearm and digging it into my chest, it’s time to take him down. Two ropes and about eleven men (word has it that can take up to as little as two to get the job done) the beast doesn’t even struggle. From the moment his hind legs are pulled he doesn’t even fight fate. As if he knew his purpose for being there. The bellow he issues before the elder even pierces his skin is the final nail in the coffin that the ancestral blessing has been given. From there, the knife enters his throat and Wezile barely stirs, his mortal acceptance transcends the pain I can only imagine. Peacefully and quickly done, his last kicks are easily handled by those of us still holding on to rope. Done, now the work begins.

You know how big an ox is right? It’s like a cow, with a penis it can’t use, well it’s a pretty large animal, can you imagine having to skin and gut it? Yeah it’s a process. One that a fellow we dubbed as Rambo made a lot simpler and faster for us. The swing of his axed snapped through ribs. His knife removed flesh from skin and fur, without leaving a trace of flesh on skin? That sounds confusing but makes sense in my head somehow. “Inyama ayihlali efeleni.” (Flesh doesn’t stick to the fur) Says an elder aiding the process to youths around him, but he keeps quiet and admires Rambo at work, exclaiming that it obviously isn’t his first time skinning a beast. He even goes further to remark that it looks like it could be his fourth or fifth. Rambo pays no attention to the compliments dead set on completing the task at hand. While on our cigarette escape we all admit that if we had been lions Rambo would have no doubt been the Alpha having a pride of females while the rest of us roamed the African plains looking for a weaker adversary to topple.

There’s something about knowing where your meat comes from that makes it that much better to chew through. Maybe it’s about being able to say you aided the slaughter of animal, but leave out the part of not being entirely willing. Between ego and testosterone there’s a battle there somewhere. Nothing is wasted. Everything is eaten, I had my first taste of brain and had to suppress my gag reflex by not concentrating on its texture. My brother says salty marshmallow, I say Bone marrow. Have you ever eaten bone marrow?

My kid cousin who is one of the most pensive beings in the world says to me on another cigarette getaway “Kodwa thina maXhosa singcolile! Phofu wonke umntu usalenza elisiko loku xhela, siya fana.” (But as Xhosa people we're ruthless! In fact all of us who still conduct the practice of slaughter are, we're all the same I suppose.) I agree.

Steezed Out Thandi

5%

Waking up in Bells’ room always disorientated him a bit. He was still getting used to the concept of having a girlfriend. It had been two years since he last had one. He still felt some excitement when he turned over to see her laying next to him. He watches her sleep for sometime then gets out of bed. He puts his boxers on and walks out into the passage towards the bathroom. As he reaches out to open the bathroom door without thinking to knock he hears the sound of a shower turning on. His hand shoots back and he whispers “Shit!” to no audience. Thinking about the awkward disaster that could have taken place he makes his way back into Bells’ room sticks himself into the black skinnies he wore last night. Walking out into the garden he fights his tight fit pockets for his I-pod. As he lays back on the grass he pops a cigarette in his mouth but doesn’t light it. He stares at the cloudless sky. The violin and rhythmic dreams aid him into the forgotten memories of last night. Dancing on stage, the roar of the crowd, the compliments afterwards. Closing his eyes he sees and hears Jerry screaming “We’re doing it!” The tequila shot. The taste

. “I’m willing!” One of Nthabisengs friends shouts into his ear on the dance floor.

“Willing to do what?!” He screams back into her ear.

“Willing to take it as far as you want me to!”

He laughed and she walked off in a huff. He tries piecing together getting back to Bell’s place. How did he get back here? Wandi? Yes he vaguely recalls Wandi’s voice telling him to get the fuck out the car. Ringing the buzzer, staggering into Bells’ room her helping him out of his clothes. Shit. It’s barely been a month and I’m already fucking up. He thinks. He feels a shadow block out the sun and the unlit cigarette is pulled out of his mouth. An insignificant piece of the skin on his lower lip is ripped away with it. Before he gets the chance to respond to the sting he feels lips press against his and hair tickling his ears. When she lifts her head he finds himself staring at the cleanest nostrils he has ever seen. He expresses the thought and receives a slap to his bare chest for it. She says something which he misses for having been to slow to take out his headphones.

“ I’m surprised you’re still kissing me after I was such a mess last night.”

“ You were fine. I found your closed performance funny actually. Stumbling over your clothes and all.”

She giggles. He sits up to rests his head on his forearm and hides his face.

Mumbles: “That bad huh?”

“That entertaining.”

He raises an eye to look at her place next to him and catches the spark in the light brown eyes that always makes her seem excited. Short brown hair covering one eye. It blows a bit in a gentle breeze.

“ So wild show huh?”

“Huh?” Confused at the sudden question directed at him.

“ That’s all you could say about it last night.” She imitates him and the fears of the mess he had been last night are confirmed.

“Wild. Oh my God so wild. Oh My God that shit was wild! It was wild. Wild. Wil…” she dramatically drops her body onto the grass. “…And you passed out.” She finishes with shutting her eyes.”

He tries to hide his face again but she gets up ,moves his arm and presses him down to comfort her hand and head on his chest.

“ So how’s the hangover?” she asks, tickling his chest.

“It’s not. I’m still drunk.”

“ Oh boy. That means you’re going to feel like shit the rest of the day.”

“ Yep! Which is perfect especially cause I’ve got studio from four today."

What time is it?”

“ Its eleven, you owe me brunch and two hours at the market.”

“Hmm…”

He begins weighing up what she’s just told him in his head. He knows that she’s using last night’s antics against him. He doesn’t mind it.

“ There’s nothing to think about. You know you’re in debt.” She tells him; as if reading his thoughts.

“ I almost walked in on Nadia showering this morning.”

“ Well that could have been awkward. I can just imagine the speech I would’ve gotten.”

“What would that have been?”.

She speaks in a high pitched monotone and puts on an Afrikaans accent. “ Bellie I know that you have not accepted the lord into your life and that’s okay. It’s your choice. I really don’t mind that Kolani can stays over, but please tell him to at least try to be decent. This morning he just walked into the bathrooms while I was showering and I really don’t like that. I pay rent here and he doesn’t, he can’t just walk around here like it’s his mother’s house, just opening doors and no knocking. I know he is your boyfriend en al but please you must tell him dat hy moet meer sensitive wees to the fact that jy bly saam met iemand.”

“ Jeez! Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend? Really is that what you have to put up with? How the hell do you do it?”

“ Don’t worry about how I get on with my flat mate and get your shit together while I go take a shower.”

She pecks his lips and pushes herself up onto her feet using his chest and stomach.

“AWW!” he breathes out.

“Don’t be a baby!”

He sits up and watches her walk back into the flat. Her night dress hugs her small frame and reveals enough of her long and tanned legs to make his mind race a little. As she reaches the glass door she turns around.

“Stop perving!” with one eyebrow raised accompanied by a impishly crooked smile. She disappears behind the glass, he looks at himself in the reflection. Mouths

“ Screw this up and it’s official Xolani. You’re a fucking idiot!”

Bell pops her head back out the door. She shouts out to him.

“Can I leave my car at your place?”

He tilts his head and takes his chance to cock his eyebrow. She blows him a kiss and vanishes. He smiles and slowly gets up, moving at a slugs pace to her room.

Bribing a simple man into manual labour.

TIA: This Is Africa! My dear friends D-Money Cloughcakes and Jake the Jewler Lipman understand this very much so. All they needed to do, to deter me from my Sunday afternoon skate was offer beer and pizza for manual labour. Done!

See how simple it is to pick up a dirty African Child from a centre?

I have an art feature function on Magenta, which is pretty cool, I snapped most of the shots in film grain and only had to control shutter speed and aperture. Yeah I know she's amazing! There's also a cool pic of D-Money holding up her art work! To you I say this, just don't do it bru.

Just a kid playing with Light.

I think I've made it quite clear at this point that I do not know my way around a camera and so the terms are still quite elusive at this point. What I can tell you is that I think I was fucking around between 2,5 and 3,2 sec shutter speed, and that the Aperture was set to allow in as much light as possible. Biggups to my partner in crime for whiskey Fridays, he's the reason that I'm finally playing Magenta on her manual settings.

Pointlessly Enigmatic

Did you vote? I did last night actually.

After what’s been going onto four years of spending my time in this city, there have been three clubs that I have consistently attended: Fiction, Waiting Room and Assembly. Plain and simple every weekend and countless week nights.

The point of being a regular is that you get friendly with the service and maximize the potential each night has for the most amount of fun. It also Affords one the opportunity to make actual acquaintances and the better surprise of making the occasional friend. These things should make it simpler if you have family and friends who perform at the club on a regular bases. This idea is obviously wasted on the Assembly. The bouncers and Managers don’t care if you performed last night, no ID means no entry. That book thing really bothers me for some reason. I heard via the grape vine that one of the managers said to an artist:

“Sorry it’s just how I am, if anything shit happens I look at the black guys first.”

Here’s how you don’t get in.

Step 1:Show up with a bunch of friends and family they don’t recognize.

Step 2: Be conspicuous by not showing up to the door with anyone that would obviously be recognized.

Step 3: Get denied guest list.

From there We go to Waiting Room. Wow, it was kinda really sad. Like really, it was a really really sad night.

Nice to know, but since some of us are performing and others are supporting, where do you draw the line on how many black people you allow into your club. “So long and thanks for all the fish.” Douglas Adams, Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy. So who did I vote for? Waiting Room and Fiction, I suppose. Hopefully this hasn't been pointlessly enigmatic, whatever that means.

Do people ever call you?

"Do people call you Phums?"

"Yeah they do But I am rather attached to my full name."

Magenta and Microsoft paint team up. Not sure what function was being used. I didn't take the picture.

Laugh My Beloved Country

Finally South Africa receives the comedic quality it deserves!

I suggest you actually view this on you tube, the quality here is horrendous.

Hlekani!!! Shout out to Mducomics Izikhokho show.

Panorama makes you dance at night.

So I'm still playing with Magenta and just discovered the panorama function. Some music and a little dance action. It's called electric boogie. Hey how'd Marcia Griffiths get here?

so all the pictures are titled i just still don't know how to do this blog thing properly. Picture titles in no specific order:

Thick Lipped

El Manana (Gorillaz)

All smiles

Faceless and Hooded Character. Hope they look ok. All smiles :)

I love having new Toys!

So I... welcome Magenta into my life. And I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

EMPTY FUCKING RANT..... I REALLY DISLIKE ASSOLES! which is a contradiction in terms because I myself am an asshole. DONE!

5%

He was speaking Tswana, that meant that something was wrong. She gradually walks backwards then turns to walk back the way they came. When she reaches him he carries on speaking Tswana. She pretends that she understands by nodding and shaking her head, assuming that he’s casually asking her a series of questions.

She adds “Wari ingi?” and a “Hayi” having mastered their pronunciation, it seems like a good time to use them, from the very little of the language that she possessed.

He says something and laughs heartily forcing her to produce a strong fake laugh. While laughing she shakes her head for effect and takes the chance to look around and gauge the situation. Standing behind her is a large dark man wearing a fisherman’s hat, a matchstick sticking out the side of his mouth looking at her. The whites of his eyes have gone brown from the abuse of some substance or other. Wide nostrils flaring as he breathes. A voice booms out his mouth revealing a missing front tooth. “ Usheba ingi?” the malice is unmistakable. A hand enters hers and takes her into the street. She locks her fingers and tightens her grip around Thami’s hand. Surging through the crowd. Eventually and with great personal effort Thami loosens his hand and tells her to relax. She makes to look behind her and Thami tells her not to. The sight of the man’s black leather jacket imposes itself on her vision and she listens to Thami’s calm voice telling her to relax. She lets go of his hand and carries on walking, she stops herself from running but keeps in mind to walk with purpose. As they make their way through town it becomes easier for her to breathe and allow the panic to pass her by. When they get to Sammy Marks Square Thami asks her if she’s hungry to which she nods her head. He purchases two pies and juice boxes and heads for a bench.

“ So you have a choice between apple and grape juice.”

She shrugs and he gives her the grape juice.

“Spinach and feta or steak and kidney... I’m assuming the glower means that there’s no way in hell you’re eating steak and kidney. It’s a common reaction. I don’t mind, just means that I have no worries of anyone wanting to take a bite of mine really.”

Hands her a pie and a few serviettes. He unwraps the straw, pokes a hole in the juice box and takes a sip of his. He then unwraps his pie and takes a gigantic bite leaving under three quarters of the pie in hand. Messing crumbs all over his face and lap doesn’t seem to faze him at all. While chewing he takes another sip of his juice. Nthabiseng suppresses the urge to tell him how disgusting that is. She watches him eat without saying a word. After his final bite and sip she finally speaks.

“What was that?”

He looks at her ,then watches a man walking past them. Wearing a suit, he searches its pockets furiously completely oblivious to all else around him, speaking in hushed tones. Thami wipes his mouth off, uncaps the camera lens, focuses according to the man’s step and snaps a few shots. He waits for the man to walk further on into the distance and times the shot for when he passes the beggar on the corner. Clicking, he feels a punch to the shoulder.

“Are you going to speak!” Nthabiseng barks at him. The punch is a surprise and painfully unexpected.

“Ouch! That actually almost hurt!” he exclaims. Annoyed, “ Thank you I missed that last shot.”

“Talk.” She demands.

“ It’s not a big deal. I just saw a few dudes whistling across the road from each other.”

“ So what? It’s town, we were by a taxi rank everybody whistles at each other.”

“Yeah but when you have two dudes signaling each other towards the direction of the two people who obviously aren’t a part of the hustle you kinda have to roll with the whole prevention is better than cure theory.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“ And you know what? It just might be. But hey, I had two responsibilities you and my camera.” quickly adding “ Not trying to patronize or insinuate that you can’t take care of yourself, but the reality is that we didn’t fit in there. You obviously more than me. But ja shit happens all the time. Let’s stop trying to play hardcore and just admit that the end of the day we’re just some spoilt kids from the burbs with too much time on our hands.”

“Fuck you! That’s not why I’m here!”

“Oh? Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because I want to stop living in a dream world whereby I completely close myself off to other peoples realities. I don’t want to be ignorant to the social and economic gap between me and the people of the lower class income bracket.”

“The people of the lower class income bracket?” He speaks slowly and thinks about each word he says, “Do you mean the poor?”

“You’re so full of shit!”

“No I’m not. I’m just trying to find out exactly why you wanted to go to Marabastad of all places… think about it you knew that something shady was going on, which made it very easy for you to pick out exactly who was plotting to do you harm…”

“What?”

“The dude standing behind us with the matchstick sticking out of his mouth. Why did you think he was coming after you?”

“Well he was…”

“What? Behind you and suited the profile of what a bad guy would look like right? Yet when I told you about the guys whistling and signaling each other towards our direction I was being paranoid… it all comes down to being aware. Walking around with your eyes closed isn’t going to help you shit coming down here. We already looked out of place walking around with a camera, it almost seemed like that was the look you were going for. Which is fine of course as long as you have your wits about you.”

“So I panicked! But that was only because you made it seem like there was an emanate threat about!”

“Well there could have been, but I guess I get what you’re getting at. Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Anyway none of that takes away from why I’m here!”

“And why are you down here?”

“Stop patronising me!”

“I’m fully interested and you know it!”

She looks at him for a couple of seconds then looks away and takes a small bite of her pie. Chewing softly and taking in her surroundings. She looks at the row of trees behind her on a linear grassy walkway with patches of sand in it. Next to it a huge cubic building built for theatre.

“Could you stop staring at me it really is getting fucking annoying.”

“Sorry.”

Is his quiet response. He looks downs and shifts his feet on the concrete. She feels a bit bad for having snapped, but leaves it at that. Taking a sip of the grape juice she savors the sweet tasting purple liquid, gently lubricating he throat. She bites down on the straw and without unclenching her teeth utters

“I’m trying to educate myself okay.”

He furrows his brow, looks up and straight ahead. Doesn’t speak.

“ I just feel guilty about so much shit okay. Like I get to have parents who can like afford to put me up for everything I want. I’ve never gone hungry a day in my entire life…”

Interrupting her, “So what does that have to do with you coming down here? You could see South African poverty on T.V if you wanted to.”

“You know exactly what I’m getting at. I feel as if I’ve embraced one side of my heritage way more than the other.”

“Now you’re just reaching.”

“ Jesus! I just don’t want to live I in a bubble if that’s okay with you! I never got it when I would hear that we’re a third world country, cause I don’t live in the third world! But I’m just trying to open my eyes to the fact that other people can’t afford that luxury!”

Thami speaks slowly as if being careful to make sure she hears every word he says to her.

“ Okay… don’t take this the wrong way or anything but what good does opening your eyes and seeing the reality that people live in everyday do? Again we’re just suburban kids with too much time on our hands. After this we’re going to catch a taxi back to my car and go on home. This is like a trip to the zoo for us. The people there in Marabastad are going to have to find sheets of plastic to blanket themselves for the night. When I order in tonight and you go to one of your friends braai’s or dinner parties, they’re going to be waiting there for the local butchers to drop off all the meat that’s gone off so that they can fill their stomachs.”

The face Nthabiseng pulls has a mixture of shock and disgust. He continues looking straight ahead of him, then draws his camera to his eye takes his time and clicks the contraption twice. Without looking at her he flatly states “That’s their reality.” He gets up and starts walking. She watches him then follows and throws her pie in the dustbin.

Good Omens

“I’ve become such a soft guy!” A close friend admitted to me a couple of weeks ago, before my departure for PE. So have I actually. The XX in my ears and eating so little meat over the past couple of weeks, I never imagined this happening to me in my time Cape Town. I guess having dated vegetarians has a strange way of catching up to you.

An ox is not a small animal. It’s pretty massive in real life and when you know that the time is coming when you’re going to have to play a hand in its killing, well let’s just say, I still get scared shitless every time. The beasts’ sacrifice is intertwined with receiving the ancestral blessing for the changeover. Ancestral blessings are an important part of our culture and all major decisions rest on those departed souls. Whilst we believe in our ancestors and seek guidance from them, religion still plays a big part in the role of most families. The two belief systems are not mutually exclusive. I myself am not religious and have noted this to my parents, I still respect the fact that they are. It simply doesn’t make sense to me. I still see our colonial past as having too much influence over our beliefs. In a book called Time Longer Than Rope, Edward Roux tried to interrogate this aspect of our history, drawing out compelling references that I found to be more than satisfactory at the tender and impressionable age of 15. Maybe it's strand of anger I should let go.

The ox’s arrival went more than smoothly to say the least. The beast got off the truck ,went to its post and was tied up without hassle. This is seen as a good omen. With celebratory ceremonies comes liquor namely; Umqomboti and brandy. Yep it gets real! In its demeanor the ox resembled my late grandmother and the women of the house given the task to name him, named him after her. Cool, calm and collected she was my grandmother. Wezile was the ox.

Tyson loses his shit!

The world can only fuck with you so long before you lose your temper. Tyson has every right to lose his shit at this point. Considering the amount of bullshit he had to endure having everyone trying to screw him over in some way or other. The dude came from nothing, and was rolling in paper by the age of 19. A product? Yeah that's exactly what he is.

If you can’t back your shit up, then shut the fuck up! Be advised that the language used in this video is rather harsh.

Like Mike I would've taken his ear.

Don't even wanna try.

HOLLYWOOD ASSHOLE: So we’re thinking with this film, Angie all that we would really need from you is that you Brangelina the cam and Johnny just keep in mind everything Tim told you to do and act like you’re on drugs. Script? Well we’re aiming to go more avant-garde on this one. You are the artists in this one and nobody else. Think of William when he was legend.

Shout out to Kets!