Apologies for all the exclamation marks but I just found out the girls I’m going to Bali with DO NOT WAX!!!!! They’re HAIRY. Everywhere. I on the other hand have booked a wax even though I don’t really need one – full leg, bikini and … Continue reading Pure woman!
It can be a little uncomfortable when you and your girlfriend date the same guy. Not at the same time, of course, but first one then the other. It shouldn’t be awkward, especially if you talk about it, but it just is. I am not … Continue reading A threesome
It’s my birthday tomorrow. So before I drink too much champagne and eat too much cake, here is what I did and loved over this last year. Wrote some stuff Made some stuff Drank and ate with friends who are amazing and wonderful and make … Continue reading Reflections
‘You’re looking very smart,’ I said to my ex-husband who was looking rather dashing in a full on suit and a tie. ‘I don’t know what I am supposed to wear to a funeral,’ he said. ‘It’s been a while.’ Everyone around us was in … Continue reading Life, death and Armani
I’ve been invited to a Thursday night pre-screening of La La Land. It’s a media thing where we’ve been promised huge buckets of popcorn, gigantic cookies, gift vouchers, make up and little sachets of perfume. Best of all they say, the evening is just for … Continue reading Girlfriends and ghosts
2016 was the year that so many of our idols died, the world fell a little bit to pieces, the weather went wild, and I ripped a giant hole in my favorite pair of jeans. I put on a few kilos, had a couple of … Continue reading My year in review.
She stood there, immobile, unsure how or what to start packing. Years of paints, paintbrushes, paper, clay, sculptures, twine, beads, bits, feathers and things that have no value but have all the value in the world.
‘It’s just a paperclip,’ I said. ‘You do not need this.’
A tear rolled down her cheek.
‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘Or, maybe I do. That clip held together the first painting I exhibited. I do need to hold on to it. Or, if not me, somebody else might want to use it.’
‘It’s a fucking paper clip,’ I said. ‘It goes…’
I swept it into the bag for rubbish.
This was me, helping a dear friend pack up her life. She’s moving from South Africa to England.
They have paper clips in England.
But packing is hard. The blue dress, even though it hasn’t been worn for years, is gorgeous. The teacup that’s been in bubble wrap forever; it came from a great grandmother.
Objects of beauty. Of meaning. Of memory.
What stays and what goes? What gets thrown away and what gets given away?
We went through a bag of baby clothing. Our babies grew up together. I recognised the dinosaur hat. The sippy cup. The blankie.
‘God,’ I said, ‘I cannot believe you kept these. I gave all my baby stuff away years ago. Years ago.’
I held the blanket.
And then suddenly a tear rolled down my cheek too.
Of course she had to keep the dinosaur hat.
I had to keep my dinosaur hats too.
We hold on to things because they are a part of us. They are our memories, our emotions, our ties to things and people and times. They are love.
How does one part with anything?
I dug the paper clip out the rubbish.
‘It stays,’ I said.
She breathed in, a sigh of relief. We both wiped our tears. And I blew my nose into a handkerchief.
It’s the handkerchief of an old lover. We’re not in touch anymore.
But it smells of him. It is a part of him.
It is him.
Of course I’m not letting it go.