A F R I C A

Happy Africa Day!

Nothing makes me happier than telling someone I'm from the beautiful continent of Africa. There's something special about this continent. It's indescribable. It's a feeling. It's ephemeral. Africa has life and I don't mean that in the typically Western perception of an Africa, filled with dancing people who smile stupidly. It goes deeper than that. This continent is filled with survivors. People who have suffered so much yet there is still a fire in their eyes. There's still this quiet determination to overcome or to simply live life on their own terms. Obviously I am generalising and I'm not naive or misinformed enough to think that we don't have our fair share of problems. If anything, we're known for our problems. We're a charity case to the rest of the world. A place and a people in constant need of nurturing and a firm hand. We have no names, no distinctions, no character. Just a void space, waiting to be occupied by the superior ways of others.

I reject this image of Africa and I give people a true image of what my continent has to offer. It's a hybrid mix of people, places, races, cultures and general attitudes. There's something for everyone in Africa. It goes beyond wildlife (which you find in game parks and not, contrary to popular thought, in the streets). It goes beyond simple song and dance.

It's Africa. I can't quite describe its majestic nature. You have to see it for yourself :)

You can call it an obsession. I won't kill you for it.

I know. My obsession with this woman grows deeper by the day but I can't help it. I've reached the age where I feel stable enough - emotionally that is - to listen to her music regularly. It's so rich in emotions of pain and suffering and melancholy. I do still struggle with 'Strange Fruit' but I have 'No Regrets' and 'Lover Man' which are much lighter offerings. I prefer the post-1930s Billie Holiday. Although she was not as strong vocally, her ability to convey the true sentiments behind lyrics is unfathomable and pretty much unmatched. I also happen to adore this portrait of her. She looks very ladylike and delicate yet there's strength and toughness in her eyes and the gaze she's holding. A modern-day woman trapped in the confines of an old-fashioned society.

I love you Ms Holiday :)

I'll Be Seeing You

I've been listening to Billie Holiday quite a bit. I decided to find documentaries of her on Youtube. I chose this BBC one because they are known to make great documentaries. However, they do take quite an antagonistic approach and for Billie Holiday fans, it may be offensive (I was quite shocked and upset). But it's informative.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmXkP4lvmnA

Enjoy :)

Oh by the way...

I remodelled the blog. It was in dire need of a makeover so I decided why not? It's not an eyesore any more which is fabulous.

A very, very embarrassing post but I'm allowed to have a couple aren't I?

I'm not even slightly (okay perhaps I'm exaggerating) ashamed of the fact that I watch 'Made In Chelsea'. It does what I need it to do. It doesn't require me to think and it makes me laugh owing to its scripted storyline and failed attempts at staging run-ins every show (the ones involving Millie Mackintosh are, without a fail, the worst). I also quite like the boys on the show. Or at least the way they look. Oliver Proudlock or more commonly known as Proudlock is my favourite. He's the right mix of hipster and gentleman without coming across as too pretentious. Although I find it laughable that he'd dare call himself an artist, the man is trying to make a living out of his flair for the arts. You have to give it up to him. He has his own t-shirt line which is great. This picture of him and Jamie Laing (another favourite of mine) is to die for. They both look so devilishly handsome. Boyishly handsome even.

I'm not a massive cupcake-lover. I mean I do appreciate a good cupcake when I have one, but I'd rather devour a dense piece of cake if I'm honest. However, I happen to think these look so swell. My mother made them. She's quite into her baking and very good at it, might I add.

Gratitude

The quality that I find most endearing in a person is that of gratitude. I find it so sweet when someone appreciates something that you do for them. No matter how big or small it may be. If there's one thing that my parents instilled in me, it is gratitude. I am so appreciative of the things that people do for me. Even if it's a close mate of mine doing the nice deed. It's important to let them know that you don't take it for granted.

Appreciate people. Appreciate life. Appreciate everything :)

Reflecting...

I've come to the end of my time here and I can't help but feel reflective. I tend to do this quite a bit. I look back on a period with great nostalgia and at times, complete embarrassment! I feel a lot older, wiser and a bit more self-assured. It's very stereotypical and to be honest, my sudden desire to unleash my personal experiences and life could be blamed on the fact that I watched three episodes of 'Glee' in a row! But this whole self-reflection thing is quite expected considering that I upped and left my country and settled into a new one. I'm hoping for an easier time in the next couple of months. I've spent far too much time fighting for my happiness and sanity. It would be nice not to think and to just unwind for a while. Hopefully, I'll get some writing in. A few jottings about my time here and so on. I got me a job so I get to feel all empowered and shit! I'm feeling more positive about my life and this time around, I'm not ashamed to admit it. Usually, I do not vocalise my positive sentiments in the fear that things won't turn out the way I want them to and I'll end up feeling stupid for having a smithering hope. But I'm too old for that. Time is of the essence and I'm going to live my life like it matters.

I'm currently writing exams but I'm determined to blog my brains out after they're done. And perhaps in the process of my exams, because of stress and all that.

Danke :)

White King, Red Rubber, Black Death...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpibEk3lUg0

One of the most disturbing yet brilliantly-made documentaries I have ever watched. It's not for sensitive viewers though. Details the genocide that took place in the Congo back when it was under the rule of the dictator-royal King Leopold II. Very, very interesting indeed :)

I need inspiration

I'm in desperate need of inspiration. My creative juices are as dry as beef jerky or biltong, if you're from the southern tip of Africa, at the moment and it's worrying me. I feel such a great sense of purposeless when I attend my lectures and walk around the place. I know I sound like a moaner but I've become one of those people who looks forward to the end of the day. Someone who very rarely remembers to live in the moment. Because I'm basically waiting. Waiting for my lecture to end. Waiting in the line to buy food. Waiting for my friends to text me so that we can do something. Waiting to go home. Waiting to eat. Constant waiting. In actual fact, I'm pretty much waiting to die. Sad, morbid, cynical? Yes. True? Absolutely.

In my final year of high school, my Drama teacher made us read a play called 'Waiting for Godot' by Samuel Beckett. Sorry to sound like an intellectual snob but if you have no idea who Beckett is then you can't quite call yourself cultured. Anyway, this play was strange and at the time, I thought it was a bunch of pseudo-philosophical/intellectual/artist bullshit. Just a bunch of people writing about depressive things because that is what art constitutes. I had quite a blunt and honest approach to plays, artworks and writings dealing with melancholy. A whine-sesh, I thought. Accompanied with the actual beverage too. I could never understand why self-respecting people such as these, who were educated at some of the finest institutions in the world, were depressed? I thought it was pathetic. A result of pure boredom. And to a certain extent, I think it was. But now that Vladimir and Estragon's state of waiting has become my reality, I sort of understand the position from which Beckett, Camus and others alike were coming. Life, when looked at introspectively, is a waiting room. Your entering the room, albeit after a wait, can end positively or negatively. In the same way that your life, when you die, ends happily or sadly. Depending on what you've done with it. Whether you've fulfilled your dreams or waited for them to be fulfilled. I know I've made a simplification of a profoundly thought-provoking issue but the gist of what I'm saying, hopefully, comes across.

I now wish I could read the works we had the pleasure of critiquing in high school. Unfortunately, at that time, my dreams and ambitions seemed far too important that I could not waste a second on morose literature.

Oh how the times have changed...