Back To Being

Africa, inspirations and art. A walk on the wilder side.

[lyricalafrica2]

Daze on the Delta

A month in Botswana flew by at a speed, slightly less than that of light. After a bit of a medical drama hindered plans, I managed to spend my final day on the delta in a mokoro with my new little friend Acacia - daughter of the folks I was staying with. A very switched on, polite girl, reassuringly unafraid to speak her mind. It was an amazing day winding our way through the water channels amongst the high grasses and reeds. The highlight for me was seeing a trunk appear from between the reeds up ahead. It sampled the air before proceeding the cross the channel, followed closely behind by a calf. Typically, I’d put my camera away. I ratched around for it, soon after realising my error, about just being there and present being enough. When we made it to the island we disembarked the hollowed our canoe, traditionally made from a hollowed out tree trunk, but more typically made from fiberglass these days. We had a light lunch and it was, giving a gluten free near vegan, a chicken sandwich is not the way to go....

A lot of the food went to the polers. I’m sad to say that they were not given food by the company and were left to observe the not so fine dining. It would seem it was left to the visitors to feed them, which I find a problem in itself as it’s creating a further divide, a further inequality. And how would you like to survive on someone else’s leftovers?

The game walk was brief to say the least and our encounters were limited, visibly anyway. Botswana plays host to some of the most incredible wildlife in the world, but it is as it is, no pre orders here. A herd of zebra from a distance, a few species of antelope and an abundance of elephant. I’ll never tire. If you read my post on elephant sands, you’ll know how much I adore them and the complications of the expanding population. We also saw several giraffe on the way into the park. Always an impressive sight in their gigantic elegance!

The heat was incredible and slightly too much for poor Acacia who swaddled herself in a kakoi (a type of sarong cloth) she’d soaked in the river. We spent a bit of time paddling around the edge as the rest relaxed on the banks, under the shade of a tree. It was a day where heat heat caused an intense sweat and the dust and dirt swept up by the vehicle caused a thin film to settle on the skin. I’d given up trying to keep my hair clean for the same reason.

I noticed on the way back, my back was burnt a little, I thought it was from where I was sticking to the seat. Little did I realise I’d caught rather too much sun and had developed the most ridiculous diagonal strap lines that almost looked like inverted ribs.

We met up with Acaia’s dad, who had been watching the Windhoek game, (pronounced vindhuk ) a rugby fanatic and mechanic; to get a ride home. Our trip out had provided ample time to work and fit in another game.

The next morning saw a 5am start to get to the airport in time for my flight, so after packing, repacking, discarding and repacking, I finally whittled my luggage down to one case. One slightly heavy case as I found out when I weighed in. 34kgs. I’m not entirely sure what has happened to my judgement, but I think it has become slightly impaired by oil paint!

I ended up paying an excess, but I halved the charge after removing a whole host of excess paints, (have you ever heard of minimum pallet?) and shampoo and my beloved sketchbook. Still, paper or something to paint on was something I could source elsewhere, when I got to where I was going!

Despite the luggage situ, I was fairly excited to get to Tambo airport, knowing that I could get a decent ‘Mug and Bean’, which for me is a red cappuccino and the Old Kahki store - old faithful. On a second visit I took a bundle of clothes into the changing room, loving every single piece, except on me. Plagued still by body consciousness and the lump that I saw in the mirror, I vowed that I’d buy no more new clothes until I’d lost weight. Trouble is, on a diet that very often has nothing more than vegetables and beans with the odd treat, glass off wine or nuts and as many of you know a compliant and avid exerciser, it’s hard to know where to start. Do I eat more, exercise less, exercise more, fast (which I’ve tried too), or is it something more medical, more hormonal? I had a dilemma before I left the uk to start a hormonal patch a have a coil inserted to deliver the hormones I couldn’t make myself. The ones that would stop me breaking bones, having a heart health issues and so on. I figured surely I wasn’t that complicated, but maybe I am...

I find it unfair and I strive to be accepting of myself, but this podge that I seem to have acquired over the last few years, since my last trip actually, seems odd. People say it’s age, but I don’t know that I can agree with them there. I have a hunch and some may completely dismiss it, but I do wonder whether it’s more emotional weight. It’s not that I’m entirely unhappy, but maybe when I find the missing piece of my jigsaw, it will just drop away like the solution was there all along.

On another note and again only a select few individuals are currently aware of this, the less judgmental type, who know and accept me quirks and all....I have recurring figures in my dreams and meditations. Recurring numbers and scenarios. The most prolific of which had been 17 and 78. Numberplates, clocks, likes, miles, tracks on a playlist, you name it. I know people who have experienced this. You think you’re going mad at first, until you find someone else who brings it up. They say you meet everyone for a reason hey! So 78, to sum it up it means your life is changing, from what I’ve read. No shit Sherlock!

And the people, well, when you get them popping up in the most random places, pictures of them and then you get on a plane to Nairobi and the first thing you see is a picture of this persons face. Well, I had to giggle! But there again, I made a LinkedIn contact several months ago, completely unaware that he was living in Whitley Bay, never having met him before until boom, one day in deepest darkest Botswana, guess who I meet....we chatted for an age about the Ouseburn and the delights of Africa. It was only after we met, The history transpired. He gave me his card and I decided to find out more about his touring company and find out, we’re already connected on LinkedIn. Impressively he leads tours for Charlie Boorman and and has worked with Ross Noble. You think that’s strange, try bumping into a friend you met in Zambia, who is from Norway and the next time you randomly run into him is in Rome Rail station. Or a girl I met, again in Zambia, finding out that you’ve parked next to her at the End of the Road festival. Weird stuff like that just happens to me...

After carrying a “me” sized rucksack around most of the day, I was pleased just to find a seat. Actually I had three seats to myself after the gentleman on the end of my row decided he’d move. This is the stuff dreams are made of, it would be nice if it happened on the flight back to the uk actually. You should get an extra inch leg room and seat width for every hour you spend in the air - now there’s a controversial statement!

Books too. I was hounded to watch Eat Pray Love. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the movie when I eventually watched it. “She’s so like you” they’d say... it wasn’t till I read the book a few months ago that I thought maybe they’d had a point, but more in a curious open to experiences type of way. Everywhere I go, someone has a copy of the book and on several occasions people have even made reference to me writing my own version. Maybe mine will be called, Eat, Sweat, Be....

As I said, it’s one of those reasons I’m just letting this trip unfold. The best decisions are usually spontaneous and not very well thought out. Crazy I know, but I’m not sure at this stage I could go back to doing it conventionally. The more I process decisions, the more anxious it makes me, so the only way forward is just to believe it will be fine.

More often than not, people don’t truly believe it will be fine. Even today in the old khaki shop the assistant enquired where I was going. When I told her, her face changed and asked if I’d done any research, but to be honest, everywhere I’ve gone I’ve had that response. Yes, I’ll be mindful, but the gut is there for a reason. You’ve got to learn to read yourself when it’s just a conditioned fear holding you back and when you’re just building something up into something unnecessarily bad.

So here I am on the plane to Kenya. A bit of a conscious about my air mileage after three flights today, but after the amount of buses I’ve taken during this trip, it’s not like I’m booking them willy nilly so to speak. My trip so far has been very embroiled in doing things the local way, with the odd night spent in a semi comfortable bed, unless I’ve been unexpectedly upgaraded from my tent, or staying with a generous friend. It’s been fun, it gets you talking and you learn so much more than just constantly being surrounded by tourists who think they’re experienced because they’ve read something in a book or quelled their consciences by over tipping a tour guide that they believe lives in a mud hut and doesn’t have electricity. It happens people!! A harsh analogy, but true. It would be interesting to see what would happen if we had an international currency, nothing virtual either. And before anyone calls me controversial, I’ve already been inside, outside, under and over the box, this is just once way of seeing a something, which feeds into a whole lot more.

International, mutual generosity of a non financial kind....there’s a concept. A world where people were valued for being their true self and encouraged to do so. How could this work and what would it look like? 🤔 Breed understanding, compasssion, empathy, reduce our dependency on financial assets and resources, because what isn’t enough today, will never ever be enough tomorrow. Either way I don’t live in a bubble and I’ve had grit thrown in my eyes before, but you can hardly claim the world is on a happy highway right now and something will have to give....

So, my in flight movie of choice, Eddie the Eagle - it’s been on the list for a while. Good message, you gotta love the determination. Not conforming, not being deterred by others words or reflections. I still remember seeing him in a parade on Morcambe sea front when I was young, strapped to the top of a car on his skis I believe. Well, well done him! You’ve got to admire such defiance and courage! I may not be climbing the slopes and pushing myself down death defying verticals, but I refuse to conform just for the sake of it. The world is full of amazing life and I’m damned if I’m going to sit back, close my eyes and not experience it! Just so happens that I quite enjoyed Hugh Jackmans smile too. Yup, a good old grin gets you far! 😁😉

[lyricalafrica2]

After a couple of days at Elephant Sands I decided to move back on to Chobe and try my luck again.

The centre staff dropped me at the checkpoint further down the road, where I sat chatting with the police. They assured me they’d flag a bus down for me. Lucky for me however, a couple who had been staying at Elephant sands passed by first and offered me a lift as they were going onto Chobe for a long weekend before driving back to S.A. Needless to say the journey was a little more comfortable.

With it being a National Holiday, a lot of places were full, but together we managed to find a campsite that had space for one, it was set right on the river.., err perfect and just to the side of a luxury lodge. Most of the campsite was however filled with motor homes, and landies with rooftop tents. Still the washrooms were decent and good coffee was but a stones throw away. I was even delighted to see duikers and warthogs roaming freely around the site; mongoose too as I later sat watching, fascinated by their attempts to get into the food trunks left by the vehicles. Cheeky, inquisitive little souls. There were of course the usual warning signs for crocs and of course you have to be mindful of the hippos. There was even a resident cat, I was in heaven.

So the first night after unpacking I decided I’d have a glass of wine and went to sit on the bank to watch the sun dip below the river. Twinkling lights and laughter played in the air as the leisure cruises took in the last of the day. I sucked every last ray from the sunset until evidently it was time to return to my tent. Hmmm, ok, why does the side of my little den look kind of bevelled, uprooted even and oh crikey, where the hell has that rip in the side come from?

As my neighbours passed, they kindly informed me they’d chased away a couple of warthogs. Right, they look so punk and they are punk....

Fortunately, I’d been carrying a roll of gaffer tape with me. No, I don’t know either, but from now on it’s been added to the list of travellers essentials. Multi use, you can bind, patch up, gag and erm repair many things in a very temporary way....

I finally managed to secure the pole back to the material in a way that looked like I’d administered giant stitches. Far from perfect, but it would do. It was far from comfortable, yoga mats aren’t for bedding down on, but I tried to make the most of it, grabbing snatches of sleep here and there. I got up to use the bathroom at one point and was followed back by the local cat. He followed me into the tent, so I left the zip open at one side, brave maybe...but I figured if anything slithered in he’d have it. He stayed most of the night, curled up by my side, purring away. He’d gone by morning, the next time I saw him he’d brought his mate by to say hello too.

I decide do go and have morning coffee up on the main deck on the lodge after doing my morning hitt session. It was lovely to take in the views, but the temperature crept up verrry quickly. I thought I’d walk into Chobe and check out what was going on. Find some food and perhaps look for a game drive company. The lodge offered them, but they were rather high end and knowing from experience if you’re willing to compromise a little you can get better deals. The first office I went into, I ended up going back to after a full day. A game drive and a river cruise. Good reviews, friendly customer service. I was happy!

I was booked for the 6am game drive to Chobe National Park and the river cruise later on the next day, I think I had to be at the office for 4pm, so having booked it, I figured I’d chill back at the site and have an early-ish night. Well, that was of course the plan...

I caught sight of my tent as I made my way through the site, I recognised a fraction of the collapsed, billowing fabric, shredded from both front and side. The punks had been back and finished what they started. I spoke to the security guard who after the first round, said he’d be vigilant in watching it during his shift. Hmmm and hmmm again...

After making my way to reception and discussing the turn of events and asking about hiring a tent I was initially met with “we have nothing available”, until they offered me a rondelle. A rather swish little round chalet, with a very comfy bed, a good sizeable bathroom and all the trimmings, probably coming in at around $240 a night, more than I’d initially paid. Well, if they say what will be will be, then even the most annoying moments can have a positive outcome!

I have to say the bed was just incredible after sleeping on a yoga mat, though on relocating my wares, I saw the warthogs sneer as I passed by. The wine that night at the bar helped lull me into a deep enough sleep to overcome the excitement at the prospect of the next morning. I’d heard good things about Chobe!

The jeep picked me up just gone 6 after throwing a cup of coffee down my neck. As we wound our way through various local pick up points. It was chilly. I soon realised I’d be the only non local on board, cue lots of interest in what I was doing there, where I was from. A lively bunch, by all accounts and slightly too lively at times as their voices steadily rose as we trundled along through the park. I was told to ask if I wanted to stop to take some photos, but frequently wasn’t heard above the noise of the engines and the chatter. We took in some amazing views before descending into the valley, right out over the game park. It was unfortunate that it was high season, something I try to avoid doing activities such as this during that time, however given the length of time I’m meant to be away, it’s hard not to catch a high season at some point. I couldn’t help but feel sorry, in particular for the lone lioness sitting there minding her own business, keeping a lazy eye on the horizon, but surrounded by maybe 6 vehicles or more at any one time. She looked like she had more pressing matters on her mind and that if she didn’t make eye contact, we’d move along quicker, a bit like ignoring a bored child in the hope they’ll stop tugging at your clothes. We went pretty much right through a game list and I was pleased to see the Carmine bee eaters and Lilac Breasted rollers, which you should know by know I’m rather fond of.

As usual there were an abundance of duikers and bushbuck, warthogs and impala. We came across several elephant, they are pretty prolific in and around Chobe as was reconfirmed later in the day on the sunset cruise. We stopped for coffee midway and obliged a group photo with my camera, but left without out refreshments as the call for another lion sighting had been made. En route we saw several giraffe at close range which made me very happy. I’ll never tire of seeing giraffe in the wild. They just have this gangly look of grace and wisdom about them. Eventually we did find the pair of lions that had been sighted, but they were lying beneath a bush and so quite well concealed. Slightly disappointing, but who can blame them hey? We drove around and around the rough terrain as the day slowly warmed up, trying to escape the stream of other vehicles, which for me marred the experience a little. I guess the other game drives I’ve been on were fairly quiet, look at South Luangwa, I was on my own in the jeep. Bwindi was hardly teaming, Queen Elizabeth National Park was pretty deserted, even the self drive in Zim and the walking safari in Zambia were slow leisurely and just really peaceful. Do I sound unsociable? For me nature is to be experienced with peace and respect and that doesn’t often come with many vehicles full of eager beavers rattling around.

After an afternoon of snoozing and relaxing after such an early start, I thought I’d get to the offices early so as not to end up in the back of the boat. No siree, I wanted up front, best view in the house, me and my g&t, my camera, leg room and not have to endure heads bobbing up and down or be behind the chatter. Well I got that, there was still a fair bit of overly loud communications rising overhead, but it wasn’t for the full time we were out.

I actually found this a lot more restful and to experience these sunsets out on the water, they really are something else! I think the highlight for me had to be seeing the herds of elephant around the waters edge, young in tow. I’ve mentioned it before, but to see how they interact with each other, I could sit and watch them all day. Seeing them walk in a line towards the river, it looked a bit like the line up from ‘Resevoir Dogs’. Further down river we even got to witness an elephant swimming. We’d stopped for slightly longer than anticipated, mainly due to the appearance of a rather sizeable fifth leg protruding from said bull. Obviously something of massive fascination and a sight to behold for the average punter, causing smirking and giggling like school kids. It was however worth hanging around enduring the sniggers from behind, to witness the swimming. For entertainment value, the show was all his!

The gin kicked in quite steadily in the warmth of the evening and it was! As the sun started to dip, the sky ignited accentuating any clouds with a bright golden glow, the scarlets and ochre and any other shades in between. Like a gift from above Now that was a sunset for a last day in Chobe!

The red wine went down nicely on my return, sense a theme?.... To be fair, it wasn’t common practice to drink everyday or even regularly, but on the rare occasion of a treat day, or a trip that was fairly special, the I’d celebrate a little, even if it was on my own.

The next morning I was due to leave and again I wanted to make an early start knowing how gruelling the journeys could be. I managed to walk from the lodge to the bus station without too much hassle to catch the 7.30 bus. Once again, I decided to split the journey up and have a pit stop in the desert region of Nata. A desert region, not a huge deal there you’d think, but there was a bird sanctuary and more salt pans. I’d booked into an eco backpackers. I had to change buses once at the usual stop, then around 30kms after elephant sands I saw the sign by the side of the road that I was to be looking out for. The camp was around a 1km off the road down a sandy track. It was hot, uneven and laborious. I was pleased to get there. Nothing worse than the mind games you play when you have a heavy load to carry and the temp and terrain are so challenging! I often ask myself out loud what on earth I think I’m doing, when faced with such things. My stock reply is apparently, “living”.

The camp was small and sparsely populated with the owner and an Irish girl who was doing a work away amidst a year out in Africa. She came from S.A and had wanted to see more of Botswana. We got on well and found various commonalities including our love and respect for the animal kingdom and art. I was taken by the various colourful species of bird that would fly into camp and the African chameleon I found, lazily making its way up the tree. Endearing and fascinating little souls, they always make their way up to your head if you hold them!

My stay there ended up being a little longer than anticipated after being asked to stay on and help. I suspect it was more company oriented. There wasn’t huge amounts to do, so we’d spend time adding flourishes of creativity to the facility, including a games table, murals on the new chalet and so on. They were hot days on a very small site, though obviously you could walk around with limited danger of encountering predators, in theory... The nearest town was around 5kms and the owner would venture out daily to the shops, we suspect mainly for a change of scenery. I have to admit, the appeal of the shops were the sugar beans and the pumpkin leaves or spinach. They became a bit of a staple food from the hot deli counter. I’d still eat them now if I could find a recipe.

We’d sit in the evening chatting and drinking, more wine, really this wasn’t my suggestion, but when in Rome... I never made it to the salt pans there, or even the bird sanctuary which was a shame. My friend and I did however take the canoes out one evening, travelling as far down stream as we dared given sightings of an overtly territorial hippo. No, really? I’d been practicing yoga in the mornings, but had decided to push myself out for a few early runs. Again, it was one of those, “why?” moments, but in retrospect I’m kind of pleased I did it. When I’m struggling with my running, I always give myself landmarks to run to and try and persuade myself not to stop before and to know that I could push myself further, once I get to them. It’s harder still on lumpy sand trails.

Not everything was entirely black and white or even as presented with the stay, so I only stayed for a week. But funnily enough, that was long enough for the people who gave me a lift from Elephant Sands to Chobe, to come and visit their friend - the camp owner! Small world hey!

By the time I left, I just wanted to get back to Maun as quickly as I could. Still aggrieved at passing the signs for Botetti, but having no means to travel the additional 50kns without my own car.

[lyricalafrica2]

Roaming Alone...

Having idled a couple of days at Maun Rest Camp, I decided I needed to make a move to see more. My run along the dry river bed that morning brought so much home.


I was meeting up with friends that evening and they said I was more than welcome to stay with them, which would save me packing up my tent in the dark before I caught the 7.30am bus. Typically it didn’t leave until 8.30, but you kind of get used to that.

Heading for an over nighter on the mgadigadi saltpans and excited at the thought of seeing wild meerkats on the planes. I got to Gweta with plenty time to spare, so I sat around the lodge from where we were to be collected. It was hot and dry.


The lodge owner knew my friends from Maun and after passing on their greetings later that morning as him and his wife sat entertaining at the bar, they invited me to join them. He was only from Hartlepool, an ex union rep. Seriously, everywhere I go….. they poured me a large Sauvignon Blanc and I sat there chatting, in fact perhaps for slightly too long. Before I knew it, someone came up to me and advised the jeep had left without me. Obviously not so good at the headcount thing! I’d already met some of the ladies who were booked in for the same trip, all from the Netherlands. Funnily enough it transpired that all had met on previous trips and had known each other a minimum of a year and some much longer. It was a nice group to share the trip with as it transpired. All very chatty.

As we made our way through the bush and scrub, the usual donkeys and goats tripped around the landscape. Even a few horses. We stopped a couple of time so that the guide could explain factss about the mophane trees and the baobabs, I can’t help but be impressed by these amazing trees, sadly in taking so long to become established, their numbers have been dwindling. Such broad trunks and tapering branches, and roots that look like they’re often carved out into organic human forms, like sprawling legs and torsos.

We found the meerkats just before the sun started to set in the sky and just as the white glimmer of the pans were coming into view. Cheeky, curious, they’ve become habituated to human presence, but not enough to approach a stranger. My bubble burst of lying flat on the ground snapping a way and having one keeping sentry on my head.

They weren’t a big group, maybe around, seven or eight, with the younger being more cautious than the elders. There had apparently been a group of thirty or more, but in that size group they tend to split and form separate packs.

We watched them for around half a hour sitting up on their hinds, keeping a look out, scurrying around and stopping to dig dig dig. They feed generally on scorpions and small rodents and snakes. Hardcore for ones so cute! We tracked them on foot for a while, until the guide became bored. He wasn’t the best in his general approach and some things seemed a little rushed.

We made our way to the edge of the pans and he dropped us there, pointing out the direction of the camp. We had to walk it, I made sure I changed out of my sandals which were beginning to rub over my toes. Last thing I wanted was raw, bloodied wounds on my feet.

As we stepped out of the jeep, the dry salty crust crackled and cracked beneath our feet. It was so desolate ahead, I kept turning around to to watch that great orange orb, sink lower towards the earth, turning the surrounding sky all shades pink and orange, indigo with those accents of glimmering gold around the edges of the sun and the clouds. And in the blink of an eye, it bowed its head and disappeared. I find it incredible the rate at which the sun finally sinks blow the horizon.

We slowly made our way closer to camp, stopping to take pictures of the very moonscape like earth and the horizon. It was a very quiet experience, very peaceful.

When we got to camp, we unloaded our bags from the jeep which met us there. I eventually rediscovered my phone, which I’d evidently put into a side pocket for safe keeping and we were shown around. Our dorm…. 5 beds, a firm block covered by a a proper bivvy bag, zipped right up. Underneath, plenty comfort with a double duvet and pillow, then off to the left of there, around 50 meters or so was the loo with a view. A three sided cubicle with a longdrop. There was a sink with a canister of warmed water and various hand soaps, lotions and a towel. Another batheroom was way off to the right of the campfire and dining area. As it got dark, candles placed in paper bags were lit all around the landmarks, lighting the way.

A dinner table and serving area had been set up where we were served potato soup and bread, they made popcorn for me. A vegetable “curry”, perhaps more akin to a Mediterranean stew, heavy on the paprika and chunkily cut carrots. And for desert some kind of cake and custard, but for me a tin of fruit salad in syrup. And for breakfast, a tin of fruit salad in syrup. I’m not one to live out of cans, pineapples, avos and oranges were so abundant, but when in Rome…(or on the pans). Still, I graciously consumed the tinned fruit in its cool sugar syrup.

After dinner we sat around the campfire chatting. Before I left, Terry the lodge manager mentioned that if I got a chance I should take a walk after dark. He said walk away from the camp on your own, go as far as you dare, you won’t get lost as you’ll always have the campfire to guide you back. Only when I returned the next day did he tell me he’d often told others to do the same, waited till they were far enough away, then extinguished the fire just to get them going. The thought made me chuckle, but he wasn’t there to pull the prank on me!

It was certainly what I needed though and very much gave me that sense of being that tiny little life amidst an amazingly vast landscape, looking up and out into the dark sky strung like a Christmas tree with a complex of stars and constellations, the Milky Way hanging there like a voile. A spectacular experience. It was unnerving yes as I moved towards the edge of beyond, I occasionally stopped so there wasn’t even the sound of my footsteps crushing the salt beneath. I could still vaguely hear the chatter of camp, so I decided to push on. I think I maybe walked around ten minutes each way. At my destination, all I could hear was that piercing buzz of silence in my ear. Looking around nothing distracting my mind, just feeling utterly in awe of the planet we live upon. I stood there a while before deciding to head back to camp. Surprisingly it was more unnerving walking back towards the light of the campfire. I can only surmise that as you walk away from the light, it has your back; but as you walk towards it, the darkness is behind you, the unknown. We all have things that we need to walk away from, people, circumstances, places and sometimes fear holds us still. Going above and beyond that helps break that resilience down. Believe you will be ok, believe that you got this and invariably you will be absolutely fine.

I awoke very early, but decided I was too cosy to budge, so went back to sleep. I eventually came to again to find my fellow camper Isabelle already snapping away, taking pictures of the sunrise. An opportunity not to be missed.

Breakfast was eaten around the same dinner table as the evening before, we packed up and loaded our belongings into the jeep and managed to persuade the guide to let us walk back to the edge of the pan. We took many more photos, stopping to strike our seemingly appropriate yoga poses along the way. I was a little sad to leave, but equally, I suspected as the mid day sun crept in, it would become unbearable with no shade. If the scorched cracked earth was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be so great for us either.

En route back we spotted wild ostrich, and a group of vultures huddled together warming up under the new day’s sun. Quite a sight!

The guide didn’t afford us much time to stop and see anything and before we knew it we were back at the lodge. I found my tent and having decided to stay there for an extra night, put it up in the camping ground. I was on my own, not one other neighbour. Only a little later the owners offer me a room, so off I went to dismantle my little pop up residence and relocate to the cooler climes of a comfy room. I had a dip in the pool and snoozed off and on for a few hours feeling quite content, joining the girls for a natter and saying goodbyes as they were off early the next day for more exploring. They’d come down from the Boteti river to Gweta, definitely on my list of to dos with such an epic zebra migration going on!

Later on I rejoined the owners and some newly arrived friends at the bar. The gentleman - a fairly prolific guide throughout Botswana and Kenya and his wife a practicing artist. A lovely and very interesting couple. It was on this mans advice that I found a doctor to consult on my newly planned trip to Kasane. I’ve had a lump growing for a few months now, unexplainable. I’ve gone from believing it was a tarus to (a hard honey growth in my gum), to seeing it appear more visibly beneath my cheek bone. And so the very next day, come midday, I decided that I’d take the bus to Kasane and see the doctor the day after.

The journey from Gweta to Nata wasn’t so bad. Maybe an hour or two. I stood waiting for another hour for a bus to Kasane, before I was alerted to a lift in a car which would depart sooner. There were five of us, I was one of three crammed into the back of the small car, the passenger and driver seats were pulled right back restricting the passengers leg room. It was hot, exhausting and unpleasant, I’d already made up my mind I didn’t want to be putting my tent up in the dark, so I’d booked a safari tent at the lodge I was going to stay at overnight, luckily it had a en suite bathroom. I unloaded my luggage from the car and snapped “patience!” at the driver as he pestered money, money, money. Could he not see my hands were full of bags? I’ve had my fair share of male african attitudes, I can’t be so generic to say that they are all the same, but in seeing so much opportunism and often fairly derogatory approach to women, given certain moments, even I occasionally cannot humour them and vocalise my annoyance in the way I’ve been spoken to or treated.

When asked about the way I was making my way around Africa, someone asked me if it was safe, if I trusted the locals? I said they were only human, like you and I, that is just basic common sense and acceptance, you do however like anywhere come across characters who you would rather just have not come across. Sadly I have come across a few too many. A girl can only take so much aggressive coercion, deception and assumption.

So after a couple of lonely glasses of wine at the bar, I made my way back to my tent and settled down for the night.

The next morning, I woke with a plan to visit the doctor. It was relatively easy to get to there via taxi, but I wasn’t prepared for what he said next. I was basically told I needed to go to Francistown the next day to see someone at the hospital who would remove it. It needed analysing and the results should be in by the following week I was reassured. I was still exhausted from the previous day’s journey and the thought of having to repeat that again so soon had me in bits and that was despite the thought of what might have been going on with my body. I’m aware of the human\my ability to catastrophise, but when you are thousands of miles away from home and facing something that may or may not be serious, it’s nice to have someone there to hold your hand and this time I was alone. Not wanting to scare anyone and knowing the diplomacy I needed, I whatsapped one of the only friends that I felt would deal with this practically and emotionally. In tears, I broke the news, I really did just need to get it out of my system. Come that afternoon, I was on my way back to Francistown for the operation the next day. I checked into a the hotel, who had a mix up as the system was down. They told me they had nowhere for me to stay, until I suggested they provide a taxi for me to get to another suitable place to stay. Suddenly the management were on the phone, apologising and granting me a room. I settled down to watch a movie on Netflix with a takeaway salad and did my best not to think. - perhaps I sound like a bit of a madam? I sometime reread things and knowing myself and my lack of boundaries in usual circumstances. Being away and dealing with the unknown I can be naive, but equally I know I need to look after myself. Call it survival mode if you will.

Up early the next day, I did a brief workout before leaving for the hospital. My details were taken and I was led over to a clinic on the other side of the street, where I waited to be seen. The doctor checked me over and said that it definitely needed to be removed, but thought the growth was infected so wanted to put me on antibiotics to see if it made a difference and then see me again in two weeks. So a 1000km round trip for a packet of doxycycline and an very expensive pair of latex examination gloves later, I left the clinic, disheartened and still tired, physically and emotionally. I did what I always do in those circumstances, go find decent coffee.

I headed through the less desirable part of town in the direction I suspected that the bus depot and main shops were. Along the way acquiring a middle aged man with a hobble, who evidently saw his entitlement from a younger lady walking down the street. I wasn’t comfortable, he wasn’t particularly endearing or pleasant and as much as I sped up, I could hear his footsteps just behind me. It was the last thing I needed. I eventually saw the mall and made a left turn, as did he. I stopped to cross the road as he did, he followed me all the way into the main forum. I saw a clothes shop and seeing my chance to escape, ducked in, as did he, until I turned around and audibly said “would you stop following me! “ The shop assistants turned to look, as did a few customers and before I knew it, he was gone. My advice, as a woman travelling alone, stand firm, make a fuss if need be, don’t tolerate intimidation and yes, make sure you know your directions and know your safe spaces!
Thankfully, he never found me again that day. I had my coffee, picked up some snacks, then had another before deciding that I would head back to Kasane, but I would break it up a little by going via elephant sands. This was two hours away, doable in a less trashing way.

I booked the local coach and was dropped on the main road a couple of kilometres from the camp, from there I was picked up by a friendly member of staff. As we drove into camp I was greeted by my first glimpse of the elephants, quenching their thirst at the watering hole. I couldn’t dump my bags quick enough! I grabbed my camera and phone for back up and immersed myself in capturing their presence. Even while others went to dine, I sat there on the edge of the boma, observing, photographing and awe struck. I find these beautiful beings funny, endearing highly emotional and intelligent in their orderliness. Taking in the way they were in some kind of rotation at the watering hole, with elders giving gentle or sometimes rather aggressive nudges to move others back, or take up positions of sentry. I saw an elephant stumble as he was pushed accompanied by a loud trumpet call.

All got a chance to fill their trunks and at most times, their was one member on the periphery observing. Their dexterous trunks are like a multi tool used to suck up water like a straw before folding it into their mouths, or fondling another affectionately. They even trail their trunks along the floor to loosen the grass, so it is easier to grab and go. I sat there in the breeze for as long as I could, watching, hearing the pop pop pop of their bubbling gas until I got so cold I had to duck into the bar area for shelter. I sat there a while chatting with the bar hostess, she was called Sarah too and had only started a couple of weeks ago. She admitted that everyday she worked there, she feared for her life. Eventually we were joined by a man and his friends called Billy. As the conversation progressed, Billy turned out to be a tour guide, who ran his own tours around the world by motorcycle and only lived in Whitley Bay!! We regaled about life in the North East and the Ouseburn of course! We sat talking long after everyone else went to bed. He kindly walked me back to my hut, flashing the torch around to find any shining eyes, picking up on what we thought was a civet.

As I got ready for bed, I sensed it would be a while before I warmed up as I grabbed the duvet and an extra blanket from the bed next to me to insulate myself further. Eventually I drifted off in my little cocoon.

I woke in the middle of the night, only to find a bird had got trapped in my bathroom, startled by my presence he kept making bid for freedom, but running into walls and never quite finding its way out. He may well have got in through the front door during the night, I woke a couple of times to find it standing wide open, despite forcing the latch back in, the wind was seemingly forcing it back out. It made me laugh, there were hyenas, leopards and lion in the area, and even a tent had a zip up door….

I woke early to catch the sun coming up over the landscape, but lazed a while until I felt ready to leave. I’d been aware of encounters of the close kind for most of the night. Always excited, not so much scared. I got ready and went in search of coffee. It was cold and windy, even clutching my cup close in my usual way didn’t provide sufficient warmth.

My mind turned to the lump on my face. The unknown. The if’s, but’s and maybe’s. I was so cold, was that why? Did I have a temperature? I decided to go back to bed and try to get warm. Despite a couple of visits from the cleaner who seemed a little concerned about my need to sleep, I stayed there until just gone eleven. Sarah from the bar, popped her head in to reassure me that it was getting warmer. I crawled out from my little nest and tentatively left my hut.

Not long after I sat done on the boma, a man came over to chat and introduced himself as Alasdair. He was a film maker from S.A, but who had lived in various countries on the African continent. Very interesting! We exchanged brief histories and he said if I should need anything then I should ask for him if he wasn’t around at the time. “Most” of the people I’ve met have been so lovely and so in it together. He suggested if I needed medical treatment that Johannesburg might be a good option!

I spent the rest of the day watching the elephants come and go from the watering hole. First to arrive having sensed today’s delivery of piped water was an elederly bull, with a half tusk on his right side. He came hastily padding through camp in an almost comical way. The others started arriving sporadically. Not only was I more absorbing of their general behaviour today, I also started taking in their quirks, their individual personalities and features. Like the bull who liked to rest his trunk over his tusk. Another had a puncture in his right ear and another had the most raggy added ears I’ve ever seen.

I had a conversation the other day about Botswana’s overwhelming elephant population. They’re safer here as poaching isn’t tolerated, hunting isn’t allowed and so the species are graduating over the boarders from neighbouring countries. They have attempted population control with shoot to kill operations using the military, (which is tarring Botswanas reputation), but as I’ve discussed without condoning this form of control, their is an increase in clashes between the elephants and the people in vulnerable communities due to their surge in numbers. Elephants can be destructive and in particular when there is such a notable water shortage, it almost amplifies it.

At one point it was thought that removing the matriarch was a good way slowing the growing number, however that had its own problems. Elephants rely on the matriarch for guidance and regulation, take her away and it often results in a lot of unruly teenage bulls who’d never been taught how to behave, almost rebellious and exceptionally dangerous. They needed their mum for that essential socialisation, the matriarchal wisdom passed down from generation to generation that keeps the herd safe.

All said and done, they appear to be a lot safer here, but it would be nicer still for people to wake up and give animals the rights they deserve, the acceptance and find a solution that served more than just man, a solution that sees everybody winning and everybodies needs accounted for.

All I have to say is that I can’t get enough of their lumbering loveliness. They’re such a joy!

Elephants Sands is a fabulous place, but the dependency that it is breeding on this pumped in water supply can and has caused problem if it hasn’t arrived. They’ve been known to go digging up pipes, drinking water from the ablutions and all sorts. They even turn off the water supplies over night to try and avoid such behaviour.

Hold up for more pics to come....😎💫

[lyricalafrica2]

A river used to run through it....

Maun riverbed. Now utilised for sparse grazing and morning jogs.

[lyricalafrica2]

LifeBot... I sat above a man made pool on the banks of the ......river, only it’s not a river. It has completely dried up, bar these efforts made by man to provide water for the last remaining hippo and crocodiles that inhabited this once bountiful area. A whole river, dried up. The rains have been next to non existent for over a year now. Zimbabwe, Botswana, even Zambia. I’ve been away for 6 months now and I’ve known it rain once in Zambia and maybe once in Uganda. Obviously the latter is miles away from those other countries. As those who keep up with me regularly will know, I have a passion for animals, wild and domesticated, the earth that we share and I try to live my life as best as I can. Trying to give back, try to limit my impact and trying to live consciously. I’m not perfect, I don’t always get the balance right, but I try. So along the way I’ve had conversations with many a person about the state of the world, political, socio- economical, religious, ethical. I’ve spoken to outright hunters, conservationists who are “hunters”, people who have spent their entire life in the bush up close and personal to wildlife on a daily basis, vegans, activists, activists who eat meat. Those who live in fast growing commercial cities and towns throughout Africa, who escape to the bush for sanity at weekends. I’ve spoken to poor people, bound by the economy, unable to travel, scraping a living working excess hours. It happens worldwide. And here I am an over privileged white girl, a mere visitor, with an interest, an enquiring mind. A want to help, but not knowing where to start. There are many problems in the country I originated, which I am not blind to, however many of us are not living in high density areas, shanty towns or townships. There is a wealth to most countries, which needs to be released, but to those who have a responsibility to handle it with care and integrity, who will not short change people or be exclusive to those at the top of the tree. To those who will not finger point and to those who will start to realise their own place in the world, the accountability of their actions, not just on an immediate scale, but one that transcends today into the future; the bigger picture. Be it hunting, we all know animals eat animals. If we did it they way animals did it, we would remember that we too were in the food chain. Disposing of waste, many African countries don’t have the facilities for recycling that many westernised ones do. Water shortage, driving people to over-consume from plastic bottles, well if you have the money to buy water from the shops. Where water tanks are a luxury, tap water is undrinkable and boreholes are few and far between and can be full of sludge at that. Things that the everyday westerner rarely has to think about. This acute problem as higher functioning beings is that we immediately think of ourselves come a water shortage, but what about the bigger picture? The way that animals begin to unnaturally migrate, the way they begin to frequent settled communities. Death rates rise due to people not having the right mindset or experience to deal with these new visitors. As an example, Botswana used to cull elephants when the population became “excessive”, the population has grown again, though they have just reintroduced hunting here. I cannot state how much I hate this idea. Drought may drive us crazy, does anyone think that animals and in particular elephants are any less immune from this? Sure they can go a little longer, but you try to avoid hangry, dehydration after trekking in the hot sun for days on end! Would you not be a little antsy? In a world where there are such pockets of poverty and our population continues to expand exponentially, the answers really do appear to lie with each and every one of us in making more of a conscious decision to live a better, more present and healthier life, but one that will serve tomorrow too. There is a huge difference between the ways of the world, with some focused much more on the now. Something that westerners have to make a concerted effort to do, riddled with panic and anxiety of how much you can make and how much you can keep. This of course is a slightly generic comment and there will be individuals who differ, but having examined the box from various angles, it is something that has become apparent many times over. I’m having a lovely time in Botswana right now, amazingly friendly people, helpful, genuine, caring, fun and mind blowing assets of wildlife and landscape. Troubled by the drought, but non the less amazing. I posted about enjoying my time in this spectacular country and I was met by negativity from a fellow tweeter about culling to control populations, which is a horrific idea admittedly. The trouble is I find no one wants to be accountable for the mess we’re in. We as in a collective. Everyone wants to point a finger of blame. That saying, walk a mile in their shoes before you make a decision. It’s not black and white, there are many many grey areas, older communities, newer communities who have very different experiences, perspectives and ideas. No one should have to exclusively suffer, and please don’t take that out of context, but if no one is willing to compromise, then we will eventually all suffer. If that time comes, maybe then people will think it’s worth changing, but maybe that will just be too late.

[lyricalafrica2]

18/09/2019 On the move again….

I’ve just relocated due to my visa expiring in Zim. With a little nudge from the nest I’d become accustomed to, I booked a bus to Francistown in Botswana and took a night bus to Maun. The preferred destination.

I’m pleased I did. There are only so many times you can wander around a shopping complex and as novel as it was, I didn’t come to Africa for that!

I booked an airbnb for the first night, well, by the time I got there, it was actually 5am. Deliriously tired, having not slept much the night before either. Bots was instantly hot, thankfully there was air-conditioning, but wide legged charlie and having my rucksack take up any legroom made it hard to get comfortable.

I slept for maybe an hour off and on. By the time I made it to the guest house, I managed another 3 or 4 in a proper bed. It was a tentative relevé. Every time I tried to get up, my legs went wobbly in a very numb way. I also had the usual, relocation flu.

I walked up to Maun town with the lady who was looking out for the house. The tap water wasn’t drinkable, but there was a company in town operating a business that sold refillable container and discounts on refilled, purified water. Adamant to keep to my word and drink more, I took note of the location and bought my five litre bottle today.

Maun is a sweet little place, a few good coffee shops, one in particular really does do the best iced coffee! It has various tourist safari companies, a Woolworths (M&S to you and I) and a few other chain stores, pep, spa, choppies etc. You can be fairly self sufficient with the contents of those, then numerous chinese stores that sell the usual paraphernalia that an absent minded tourist might want.

The house was ok, though the bathroom was more of a bucket wash in a bath scenario. The lady who was looking after the property for her friend was shamelessly un body conscious, answering the door wrapped in a towel and stroking her chest in a way that obviously wasn’t soothing an itch. Bizarre, you can’t help but notice these things 😣

The river out front had long but dried up, but I found as I walked around later in the evening zebra frequented the area, several timid warthog and a troop of baboons. I was also promised giraffe too, but they stayed hidden. It was odd walking across the riverbed, houses on one side and a few soccer goals, before the darkened patch of earth adorned with empty mollusc shells and then off into the bush. Some peoples regular work route took them along the edge.

To think, living in the uk and beside the top of the dene is kind of the only thing I can equate this to. You just can’t quite get the idea of a giraffe stalking through Jesmond Dene. Recalling Lampton Lion Park is probably as tropical as the North East got and even that didn’t last too long. I still recall someone telling me about people getting out of their car and setting up their picnic in the middle of the park… Those not in the know, it was around late 70’s!

The landscape was dry and fairly bereft, it’s a crisis that has swept through a lot of central Africa. The dry seasons are getting longer and the rain during rainy season, more sporadic. Another sad indication of climate change. There’s always a seed of hope with me, but I can’t deny the dismay when I walked across the land.

Despite the promise of the wildlife, I’d wanted to feel a little more rooted in nature. Not here the traffic on a busy road. Unless you’re right off into the bush, this can be hard. All the shops in walkable distance, a pleasant hum of activity that would serve me some days, but not now. I have some recovering to do after putting on the exhibition and after the travelling to get here. I wanted peace, quiet, dark skies. As soon as night fell on Botswana, it was hard to get away from that urban orange glow on the horizon. In contrast to Zim, who are almost constantly submerged in darkness due to lack of power, it was an almost dissapointing introduction. Still, I love Botswana no less, and possibly more due to it’s promise of wildlife and friendly people. The gateway to the Okavango Delta no less!

So after a night spent in the airbnb, I decided to suck it up and purchase a tent from one of the chinese shops. Actually, maybe I’ll rename it Hardy’s play den. It’s for all the world more like a childs play den and the quality, well, lets say I can see the sky through the stitching. I daren’t make any sudden moves for fear of tearing it. I share the den with my large res suitcase, the other resides permanently at reception.

I’m still kicking myself for the amount of luggage I brought out here, if only I’d known I was going to be so transient! I find it kind of stressful, a nuisance and a little expensive. I’m currently trying to pare down my excessive toiletries, without leaving myself with nothing.

I noted that my oil paints are rather heavy. I’ve already given away a lot of stuff. My easel, paints, toiletries, clothes etc. I’m in talks with a few charities in Kenya right now and I wish I could have given them some of the stuff. Still hindsight and all!

The site I’ve moved to is a quiet camp, that sisters the more lively backpackers across the absent river. I took a walk there last night and sat watching the last remaining hippos and rather large crocodile, do their thing in the boma that had been erected in an attempt to save them. A relocation is in order and it’s an expensive, complicated business and bearing in mind how territorial hippos can be!…. I hope it’s successful for the remaining few, they’ve already lost a few of the older hippos.

In other news, I took a trip back to town after a rather awesome morning yoga session. A few bits and pieces that I’d neglected to get before coming to the camp yesterday. I’m self catering and finally found somewhere selling hummus, so I figured I may as well stock up. I needed a new padlock, a new charge cable and an adaptor after finding no sockets to use my very british plugs in.

The “cyst” or abscess on my face, continues to dominate my appearance. I’ve tried to ignore and deny it, but it is making me feel rather self conscious. I’ve two options at the moment. Homeopathy or surgery. The doctor I’d have to go to see uses both western and holistic approaches which suits me. It would be nice to know I didn’t have to have a scalpel taken to my face! I really really shouldn’t have put myself through those youtube videos. It’s nowhere near as bad or even infected, but it’s a bit concerning.

At the moment, I’m trying to figure out what to do first. See the doctor, or disappear into the bush. I have this urge to feel really tiny, in a big wide open space. People have tried to put me in my place like that, it’s not quite the thing I was after. I want wilderness, I want nature to take over. Big open starry skies and vast planes, the noise of bellowing lions (not too close….) hyenas, the rustling of porcupines and the stillness of an antelope as it picks up the scent of these other mortals. I want peace, contentment, awe inspiring tinyness to find where my piece of jigsaw fits into the world.

[lyricalafrica2]

‘Emergence’ National Gallery of Zimbabwe, Bulawayo September 6th - 19th October 2019 A few pics that I’ve finally managed to upload and a summary of my processes and review of the show and how I felt it went. In my usual way, fairly personal in places. I wrote it immediately after the show and views are always going to change within time. It’s been a few weeks now and I’ve made the transition from Zimbabwe to Botswana, I’ve had time to recover and chill for a little while. Not much drawing going on, but a whole load of sweating as the the season heats up! I feel at this point to write a review of the creative processes of my show may be a little warped in light of the fatigue I’m feeling, however my intention is to do one again come the end of the month when the dust settles to see how my opinions change. Given the subject matter, I’m also curious as to the impact on my own sense of self, immediately after and going forward. I found it strange that immediately afterwards, my focus was drawn to myself, how I looked in publicity photos and not the actual way the show went. Vanity you may think, though that old devil of self-consciousness. This hit me within a couple of hours of the show ending. Going from the heights of adrenaline and excitement, swiftly to over tired and self-critical. I questioned why more artists didn’t attend, berated myself for looking fat, my habit of nervously over gesticulating and the over animation of my facial expressions. Being struck with all of this just after midnight after two hours sleep if that and venturing onto social media in an attempt to quell my restless mind. Before bed, I’d bounced around the cottage in a fir of sheer delight, like an excited child might, amazed and happy that I’d successfully made it to completion. This midnight hour saw me overanalysing everyone and everything, even down to a known artist who turned up, said nothing to me and shuffled off into a corner to eat popcorn and nuts on his own. Not a well done, nor a comment on the content, just nothing, perhaps a slight look of disdain though. Was I just imagining this? Was this silence comment enough on what lay before him? These thoughts are just as responsible for limiting behaviours and in voicing them honestly, I’m hoping they simply release into the ether and just disappear. So, the exhibition was divided into three rooms, for which I wanted to take people on a journey, from conception. Not to say I incorporated every bit of work that I produced. I tried to curate carefully, it was interspersed with pieces that were a bit more literal, leading to much more abstracted concepts. Wording and symbolism, not just because; but because they are a powerful means to switch on the brain and indeed the heart. Positive and powerful. If you think positive, positivity will perpetuate, and vice versa with negativity. You don’t make it anywhere telling yourself that you’re wrong and a terrible person. For this reason, I was pleased that there were a number of children attended. I think instilling in children how important it is to love and respect themselves properly, allowing those little flames of excitement to become brightly burning and sincere passions are important. Most realise only too late where they went wrong and how detrimental it can be in trying to adhere to societal norms. Be yourself, they’re the most important person you will ever encounter. I tried to covey through my mixed media approach, the fragility, but also the resilience of the human spirit. How it could be quashed when handled wrongly, we’ve all had our wings burnt so to speak, we’ve no doubt all had our wings clipped too. Been told to be too cautious, know our limits, not been supported properly at the mercy of someone else’s ego. It can be hard not to absorb these things as we make our way through life, we are constantly in awe of someone else, rather than looking within for the amazing facets we already have. I hold my hands up and confess I am absolutely guilty of this, but in also being a therapist, it becomes so clear how things invariably work. It can be heart breaking to watch someone go through life, never realising there potential, thinking they have to conform to x, y or z, just to be accepted, so they can consider themselves a worthy human being. Whatever happened to simply being a good person and just allowing yourself to shine? Doing your thing, being encouraged to discover all that you are? I have that philosophy of, if we all learnt how to truly accept and love ourselves, our lives would be far easier. We would be able to perpetuate that to our neighbour, to the animals that surround us, to our environment. Can you imagine if we all lived consciously taking a little more care like that? The recurring themes of fragility, fractured, bound and freedom were used throughout the exhibition, never asking people to see the point, but encouraging them to come to their own conclusions. Flashes of mirror, captured people in the moment and very much made them a part of the exhibition pieces. Veining, flight paths, patterning and themes which were very much more emotive were all explored in different ways. Liberal and freeform use of diluted oils on damp surfaces allowed mixed colours to merge and bleed, blown, feathered allowed to run and bloom. Free to behave how they needed to behave. Added texture and collage offered additional light, movement and the suggestion of dynamism to these much more abstract pieces. I’ve never used oils in this way before, but I enjoyed it and would explore it further in the future, potentially with more colour in the background. The mainly white backdrop was an attempt to maintain some form of purity, as in the essence of just being. Smaller pieces formed a panel, with suggestion of cuts and scarring that can be recovered from. It’s never too late to learn to use your wings and take flight! Again the use of the wording ”Public Notice”, I wanted these pieces to be vital in drawing people in, in for introspection, an invitation to look for their own potential. To untangle themselves from societal norms and controlling hierarchies, to find what they were really about and to love and accept that. I wanted people to walk away with a sense of wholeness, or at least an impetus to do some self-exploration. A deeper sense of knowing that they are about so much more than the façade they present to the world every day. The façade that they have built in in reaction to the rules and regulations laid down to keep us all in line. The final room was a room I set aside to be filled by my installation pieces. The recurring symbolism of the eyes, the distorted, obstructed retinas, the colours that represented the opportunity to discover potential. The gaze, from one eye to the other, connected by the knowing, the denial, one an authoritarian with the same infinite potential as the next. Likely undergoing their own demons and using that control to supress and satiate their own need. But what if they found themselves a little more, looked at themselves a little kinder, would there action on the rest of the world still have to be so outwardly commanding? Is all this required because we can’t validate ourselves, we seek to control others, because we can’t control or accept ourselves? Paper bark, shards of blunt glass, fishing wire and chicken wire were all used to create a somewhat ethereal, spiritual effect, because well this was a fairly spiritual topic, but not in the head in the clouds kind of way, more a put yourself up there with the best kind of way. Take accountability for your own height, don’t accept that ceiling just because. It’s usually glass and if someone has led you to reinforce it, it’s about time you smashed it down yourself! So why leave the comments on the butterfly till now? Aside from the very free nature of the butterfly and the way it emerges from the cocoon to reveal its true identity, I wanted that sense of liberation. Detachment from what had come to be expected of it. The Commodore butterfly really did bring it home and in that sense, never accept that you have to be second in command. Be the captain of your own ship. Know that you are precious and that you deserve to be the best version of you, which can only be granted by you and only ever you! The fractured painted mirror adorned with glimpses of butterfly and glass again, was there to suggest that we can all be a bit broken, but we’re still beautiful. Use you power to transform that power into something positive, let it make you strong, don’t let it drown you. Life is tough yes, but it’s also sweet and beautiful. And in that, my final piece invited people into a little box, through the abstracted eye, to see what they could see. I see you, what do you see? It seemed an appropriate if more abstracted carry on from my oil portraiture collection, “Who Am I?”. After having seen my exhibition for the first time alone since Friday need to summarise my feelings here. Am I happy? Yes, after feeling so out of sorts over the weekend. Could there be improvement made on the way that I broach the subject? Of course, but isn’t that the meaning of life? To live and keep learning and to try and improve oneself and approach daily? I really enjoyed the installation and sculptural work. It’s not something that I generally do due to constraints on space, tools and materials aren’t so hard to source back home, but I tend to simply get caught up in painting. It was good to be able to combine that and be able to produce such a multifaceted body of work. I’d very much like to continue exploring this. Feedback from the audience was positive and most people pointed out at least two favourite pieces. The large bright eye and butterfly, the fractured mirror piece and the other sculptural pieces went down well and were said to be a quite unexpected addition to the exhibition. In this sense I was pleased I managed to offer something that was different to the usual standards of exhibition. If I were to do it again, what would I do differently? I’d perhaps pay more attention to the interactive element, maybe think it through for longer, use ribbon instead of thread as it is fiddly and time consuming to tie onto the chicken wire backing. I’d also likely do more sculptural elements. That for me has to have been the highlight, besides the different and at times intoxicating use of the oil paints. Of course the invitations went out rather too late and the carefully selected soundtrack went virtually un noted, the aromatherapy oils that I had infused the room with evaporated and disappeared off into the ether through the open doors. All things that need tweaking, but as they say, not bad for a first attempt at a National Gallery.

[lyricalafrica2]

Some wind down time before I begin the reflective process on my exhibition. I'll do one now and maybe in a month or so time when I've had a chance to digest events and recover. It will be interesting to see if and how my perspective changes on events.

There's actually a post to come before and part of me wonders if I should be posting this on my mostly neglected art blog, but this is about so much more than my regular practice, so I'll stick with you here for now....

[lyricalafrica2]

Be like a butterfly. In whatever state, just be. Eventually you’ll see how high you can fly. August full moon and in my employment of a much more of a grounded practice these days, I went along to my usual yin yoga class, followed by nidra, which is likened to a full body sleep, whilst the mind is still awake. The discipline of the practice is something else. Like any meditation, to just be, to not try, to not allow the ego mind to distract you is a job in itself or not....I’m unsure I managed the full time in that state, but I felt so calm and peaceful afterwards, I almost floated into work. I use the yin yoga ( a more passive form, with poses held between 1.5 an 5minutes - taxing, especially towards the end) a time to let g. It’s not like any other yoga I’ve done, you take positions to jut for the edge and time intensifies them for you. On reflection, my approach to my many years of regimented exercise and even life has been the same. I can get through anything and so much easier if I don’t push so hard and make sure I breathe. If you think of an anxiety attack, one of the first physical effects is on your breathing. When that goes, other things begin to perpetuate and can spiral fairly rapidly. You control your breathing and simply assure yourself that it will pass. It may not always seem that easy, but you’re more likely to get on top of it. I should know. Similarly I’ve gone for years,putting myself through hell at the gym reassuring myself that it’s only half an hour, another minute, only another 30 seconds. They can seem long and arduous times, or they can feel very natural and easy times, yes even when running. I listened to a cumulative presentation of Will Smith speeches on YouTube a while back, some of the most inspiring I’ve ever heard. All I can is I identify; I’ve said for a while I can achieve whatever I want to, want being the defining word! And thereafter, it’s about belief. For an essentially shy and unsure person, that’s a strange thing to admit. Let’s relate this to the occasional running events I’ve done. In retrospect, I haven’t fully committed to them for fear I wouldn’t be good enough, allowed self doubt to turn on me, no doubt flash backs from my youth when I used to run. Amazing the scenarios you drag with you into adulthood. I’ll always finish, perhaps in an ok time, but ironically, my best running comes when I’m alone or at least not made to think about my placement. And as long as I’m consistent, in training and then belief. It doesn’t have to be a loud voice, as long as it’s there! It’s much like my art, if I have someone hanging over my shoulder, in my mind, I may as well be drawing stick men. So what do I do when I develop those weakening thoughts? My mind throws me a subconscious challenge. This time I ended up working in open Gallery space. The last time, I ran the race, I hadn’t trained for it, did an ok time, stormed the hills and killed myself for the rest, but even in that, there lies a lesson. Preparation, commitment and belief, they all come together to create a sort of flow; but you have to be flexible too. To be so committed that you know when you have to slightly change course. I may not be the best artist, even the best athlete in the world, but I’m sure as hell not going to stop trying until I’m the best I can be. It’s at that point it becomes about you, dropping that unique human ability to spend days comparing yourself to others. It’s not selfish, think of it this way, if you are operating at your best each and every day, each and every day you will find a lesson and will improve. Once you live in that knowing, you’re much more likely to be of service, increase you life’s value to the rest of the world. Inspire and be inspired to be a better you, each and every day. I haven’t just listened to Will Smith, I’ve found Oprah’s YouTube channel, (truly amazing woman), Elizabeth Gilbert and many many more people who have tapped into their potential and are helping others find their way too. Ted talks, I’m all about them. Anything positive and inspiring. Learn from people, if you can’t learn at least one thing from every single person you meet, then you’re not listening hard enough. It’s funny, when I did the talk at the gallery, I was probably the most quiet out of the three of us. Weeks later, one of the audience who was there approached me and said, you could tell that you’re a listener. I get conscious that I’m not always the contributor, but in that silence I’m happy that people realise that in listening, you don’t always have to have a response and you can learn so much. There’s so much I’ve omitted from these posts due to opportunity to actually write on a screen that doesn’t flicker. Hopefully at some point I will catch you all up with the art work and the amazing scenery I’ve come across when I’ve been lucky enough to leave the city.

[lyricalafrica2]

Technology and survival tactics.

Well, what a whirlwind month. I'm now solely trying to write my blog from my phone. I'm also having trouble accessing photos downloaded from my camera, so I may have to do that separately. After allowing someone to look through photos on my ipad and having dropped it on concrete, it's never been the same. The screen flickers faster than a humming birds wings. To say I'm upset is a bit of an understatement. When you're so far away from home and it's been a reliable means of working and keeping up to date with everything, it is a huge loss!

I will try to update you with some visuals in due course!

So here I find myself in Zimbabwe. After a few days turned into a week at Vic Falls. Extended as I was really at a loss of what to do. I'd spent so long just hanging around, waiting for people to make decisions, I thought perhaps I was due a little time to just please myself and so I set off.

The falls were spectacular as I remembered them. Such magnificence and such force behind them, it's hard not to be affected by the energy.

It took me two whole days to actually get to the national park, after deciding to have a lie in on the first day after a long 7 hours on the bus from Lusaka. I opted to do an afternoon walking safari with the rhinos. A good decision as far as I was concerned. The experience wasn't busy with copious amounts of tourists and to encounter the whole herd at the one time, with a 14 day old calf, was just something so incredible! Again, a little teary eyed. I will never tire of seeing such animals. They're obviously under 24/7 protection with armed rangers who keep track of them and ensure that they are kept safe and well within the park.

The trek wasn't so long, but the guide was pretty keen to educate us on anything we came across, from impala middens to mopani trees and the pumbas that eyed us from a distance.

I was in my element. I do just feel utter peace when I'm around animals. Whether they're cats and dogs or lions and elephants. Respect them, give them their space and don't underestimate them.

I stayed at the same backpackers as last time Livingstone backpackers. A lively establishment, pretty much unchanged from the previous time where I met my lovely bunch of Norwegian Friends. I pretty much had the dorm to myself, until a German girl Lucy checked in. We got along and so hit the falls together the following day. It was a relief to have a bit of company by that point. Cliques and groups had formed through the volunteer scheme there and being a bit of an introvert around newbies, I'd say hello, but inevitably end up doing my own things.

To spend long in Livingstone, you need money. The activities don't come cheaply, so I chose wisely. I chose the rhinos over the devils pool. At $105 to go and perch on the edge, which I have already done, came literally rather steep. If money was no object then fair enough, but I'm very happy I chose the rhinos, why wouldn't I!?

I ended up going to the falls twice after realising that during full moon there was going to be a lunar rainbow. Slightly anticlimatic even for the locals this time. It has been known to shine much brighter and be more vibrant, but still it was there, if not in all it's glory. Wet and cold, I returned with a small group I'd become acquainted with at the backpackers, eager for the warmth of a hot chocolate.

It was around this point I met Jesus, hailing from Wolverhampton. Even more appropriate was that the couple who I got talking to, who had just booked into the lodge, swore by him. Sorry, I'm not taking the pee, but I had to laugh at the irony. They were very sweet and seemingly took me under their wing for a day or two until I fled the nest that was the backpackers. Sending me on my way with a bar of chocolate and a few other treats for my onward journey. I had made the decision to follow Jesus (or Matt the bearded, named Jesus because this is what the locals called to him as he walked the streets 😏) to Zimbabwe. I figured rather than lounging around the backpackers waiting for things to transpire, I'd take matters into my own hands. Jesus seemed clued up as far as the whole travel thing went. He'd already done the whole west side of Africa including the Congo and Nigeria, and the tip of the continent in S.A. Now he

was venturing back up through central africa, having covered namibia, botswana, a little of southern Zambia and next stop Zimbabwe. Our stories tallied in the fact that we were both overworked, unfulfilled in some way back on home turf and drawn back to Africa, just not in the fact that I could grow a beard of such magnitude.

I arrived in Livingstone Zimbabwe, a day after Matt, on my way across the bridge over the National park (the one where people dice with the health and safety of Zambia, at the end of some stretchy umbilical chord, holding them onto life) I took the usual pictures and selfies. Stopping only momentarily, so locals wouldn't think I was an opportune customer for their wares. I made it through the boarder unscathed with a smile and a cheery greeting and onwards to the meeting point.

My luggage as little as it was, was heavy and I was feeling it through my shoulders and neck. But with the backpackers apparently being five minutes away, it seemed unnecessary to give into a taxi, especially as I'd made it this far.

Well, that was in my head, until a friendly local who had just returned from Zurich to see his family, insisted he give me a lift up the hill. When I walk like that, I'm usually on a mission and I guess it showed! Once I got there, I was pleased he had stopped me. We had a short, but friendly exchange in the five minute ride.

Next piece of the jigsaw was to fathom out the currency of Zim. So for those of you living blindly to the affairs of Zim, apart from the leaders of said country, Zim doesn't exactly have a straightforward currency.

They have blackmarket bond, US dollars and ecocash. Eco cash is a fairly new way of doing things in that, you can buy a simcard for your phone with a company called econet. You buy airtime to concert to data or calls etc, then you can also load it with bond, bought with US dollars. So depending upon the current rate, the deal can be better or worse. If your bought eco rate is better that that of the shop rate, you use your phone to purchase through ecocash. If the eco cash rate is higher that the rate you bought the ecocash for, it's often better to buy with dollars.

If you go to the cash machine in the unlikely event that your foreign card works, you will receive bond, but be charged by you bank in dollars. You can buy bond with dollars if you wish from random floating around the street, but their rate rarely seems to budge above 9.5, even if the official rate is higher. It's to put it crudely, a bit of a headfk. Coupled with the regular load shedding or power cuts due to the low water of Kariba dam, it can make life taxing for citizens of the country. It's true, their country is in a wee bit of a mess and once you get past the ones who make untimely assumptions about you as a foreigner, people are generally lovely and very helpful.

I had a chat with a girl who insisted I take her back to the uk as she loved the "chilly weather". She loved the idea of swimming in the sea. Hmm I thought. I wonder how you'd feel on New Years day? She asked for my necklace. I told her it was a birthday present from my mum. She seemed to understand the significance. We had a brief light hearted conversation before I caught back up with the others.

I'm saying others, I've gotten way ahead of myself....

I've failed to tell you about Man Biscuit arriving later on the same day as us. The first class overnight train to Bulawayo 🤔 the fact that the basin looked initially like a fold down bedpan and that's where I thought the smell was coming from. The buffet dinner that we served ourselves carrot sticks dipped in.. yup more peanut butter. It's all part of the journey so to speak. At times you don't think you can take anymore and then something happens, good or not so and you still come out the other end and hopefully smiling!

So Matt (Jesus) and I decided to go exploring once we'd freshened up from the long journey. We found a lovely cafe with a beautiful garden that did good coffee (always appreciated!) and cake and from there, we worked our way around the inner city blocks until we got to the National Gallery. Big tick from me, that this was a mutually agreed must see. The natural history museum was also on Matt's list, but by the end of the day, we bypassed that in favour of food.

The surprise came when after having a good look around the gallery, I went to see the artists who had studios. They are set off a little garden/courtyard in the center of the building. They are on two levels, and there are probably around ten studios in all. There were only maybe 3/4 studios open that day, though I only made it into two. After opening my mouth and saying how I wished I had a studio, the lady artist, asked if I was also an artist. I said I was and that I really missed my practice. She said that she could put me in touch with someone who I could chat to about it. Uh oh, what have I done? She seemed keen, not just to give me a number, but to find the person for a face to face conversation. Well we did, we talked and at the end of the conversation we were taking about a residency! My only thing was finding suitable, safe and financially agreeable accommodation. Even at the backpackers, it chews into your money quickly. I've always been a one for buying more into experiences than things, (she says this as she watches her ipad have a meltdown and wishes she could be writing her blog on it, rather than thumb typing on her phone...)

And so, why would I pass up on a opportunity to do a residency at the National Gallery? I submitted all I was asked, so I waited for the official, "everything is cleared" and obviously to find a room. It was that evening, when we got back to the backpackers in my semi stunned state, that Man Biscuit arrived or Johannes, from Germany. He had also been on the road for a while and so two became three.

Our little jaunt out the next day saw the three of us hiring a car to take in Matopos National Park, it is a large, rather dramatic park. I liken it in some ways to Yellowstone, for it's large rocky outcrops and almost fosilised trees. The park contains many points of interest, including 360degree views from apex points, cave paintings and war memorials. There are also white rhino and giraffe in this park. The game park another 21 kms down the road has more, but come the end of the day and our mileage limitations with the car hire company, we decided against a trip there too. We'd seen impala by the time we got back to the exit. Lovely, but slightly disappointing, given the promise of rhino. We were starting to think they'd been hidden in some unreachable corner of the park, unaccessible to out little fiat. Only tar roads was our mantra for the day. As a last gasp, we managed to talk a ranger into taking us to see them, having spent most of our dollars on park entry another 60 was going to be a hefty chunk. There were other guests eager to see them from another lodge, so we basically just tagged along, after they'd stalked the bush for an hour trying to locate them. Amongst these guests was an impressive young irishman, cycling across the continent on his own. As lean and lythe as serious cyclists are. It reminded me of my considerations of doing the same one day.

Once we got word, we trekked maybe around a kilometre to the site where a mother and her 14 month old calf stood in the bushes, just grazing away and minding their own. Again, just one of those life defining moments. The mother had her horn removed and her ears were tagged. It's an expensive business to do that and the process takes around 2 hours to complete. It's sad that it has come to not allowing an animal to retain what is rightly theirs, in an attempt to keep them alive. In some cases they're killed anyway by poachers, if they've been following scent trails for days, only to find a hornless rhino, what use is that? And so to reduce their chances of wasting their time again.... well you get the picture, its tragic! I hope though this mother and calf at least get to see out their years. They truly are magical beasts!

And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the golden glow lit up the landscape, they backed off further into the bushes.

Their eyesight typically isn't so good, but every now and again, the rangers would give a certain pitched whistle, if they started to look at all unsettled or got too close. Apparently, they think its a bird and this distracts their attention away from their visitors. It was over all to soon and as we made our way back though the bush, catching our legs on thorns and having rogue branches snap back on our shins, your mind turns to the fact that this is someone elses norm. This is their life. 0600 till 1800, six days a week. Trekking through the bush, being near these beautiful beings, taking in this visceral life.

We gave the rangers a lift back through the park, before heading for town. We needed food! We pulled up in a darkened street next to an oxfam truck. We decided to move on from the dubious area after a couple of guys scoped out the trunk as we opened it to grab our wallets. I didn't feel easy, a gut wrenching, not happy came over me, even before we parked up. And there it is, after previous experiences, sometimes you just have to listen. That feeling, this dis-ease it's usually there for a reason.

Again, so much more has happened since that point in time. I have found a new abode with a beautiful family, I am fully immersed in gallery life with opportunities literally pouring out of the woodwork. I still miss my people and I've done a public talk as an artist 😱 been disgustingly ill, found the yoga retreat from heaven where I regularly hang upsidedown like a bat..... and so much more.... but, I think for now, I've given you enough to mull over!

Whatever next? Answers on a postcard, the most imaginative wins... I've sure as hell stopped trying to plan or predict!

[lyricalafrica2]

Rhinos and Rainbows.

A few more from Victoria Falls, Zambia.

[lyricalafrica2]

It has been awesome and troublesome of late. After making the decision to relocate from the river to Lusaka in pursuit of the project with Munda Wanga, a place I hold dear, yet I find retuning can be so heartbreaking. The level of respect people in general have for fellow sentients and the way in which the rescue facility has been treated. With litter and plastic strewn across the grass and empty cartons and bottles tossed on top of enclosures, it's not what you would expect from a facility that is meant to be promoting sustainability and environmental awareness. Cultural norms are different, mortality and priorities are different. Why would a four legged animal be important when you're struggling to feed your children? There are many arguments for and against the sprawling population of africa and the way wildlife is perceived. They're universal problems when you break them down, not so isolated to a specific country or continent. Few seem to have woken up to the idea that we all need each other and that it is humans that impose suffering on one another, rather than be accountable for that, we choose to point the finger at another who cannot answer back and carry on entrenched in an overly uncomfortable comfort zone. History has proven that a species is rarely incapable of controlling it's numbers, unless there is unnatural intervention. I always return to the question, who was here first? Evolution is natural, it is good and healthy, but abuse is not and essentially as more "highly evolved species", we have abused that. We have made a mockery of our earth and almost forgotten how to tune in. It seems to be about being better than the next, rather than living harmoniously. Still, who am I to comment, but a little lady who cares deeply about life?

My trips here have left me without illusions about these human traits. I've met rich people, I've met poor people, broken people, egocentrics, peaceful souls and a whole variety more; some are more switched on to the extent their lifestyles are based on consumables and wants over needs. Assumptions are made on the colour of your skin, unless people make the effort to engage in conversation. I'm not seen firstly for my independence, my creativity, or my compassionate nature. I try to break that with a smile, a genuine and warm one, a proper conversation. If I'm going to leave someone with something, I don't want it to be as expendable as money for nothing. What appreciation will come from that? Would that breed positivity or inspire you, it's not even sustainable? I'm not saying I haven't given money to people in need, but throwing money at things rarely works, change the mind set and inspiration, you're more likely to set an impetus. Like the rains feeding the falls. We all go, we feel inspired and together we all get wet 😏

I feel blessed that I took that initial inspiration and turned it into a reality. The fact that I'm sat here in Livingstone drinking coffee and writing this. Seeing those beautiful white rhinos thrive in their tiny pocket of national park. The guards work day and night to protect them. Seeing those glorious falls again and feel alive. They're special, to be amidst all of that energy and force is just awe inspiring. It's been a little lonely from time to time, but the most important thing of all is that I'm Iiving my life. I'm doing it with conviction and with meaning. Living in a system that tries to define you, rather than nurture the true you, gives me a headache. I have dreams and aspirations far bigger than my quiet little voice could convey and you will always get someone trying to talk you down. It's up to you what you take on board.

Again, I've written several blog posts that haven't quite made the grade, there's a reason I guess. I hope this one will in someway resonate more.

Till next time ciao ciao for now now...

[lyricalafrica2]

It ain’t always black and white... I listened to a very interesting conversation about a lion the other day. There has been a lion roaming alone on the other side of the river, maybe 10kms up. The track on the other side is dotted with tiny villages and a school and several lodges which sit nestled on banks of the river, including Kanyemba, Kiambi and Wildtracks. The latter plays host to educational school camps and a self catering lodge, engaging mainly kids in activities such as bush walks, wild art, raft building, star gazing and other activities to stimulate young minds. It’s the kind of thing most kids need, but don’t often get unless the people around them are really switched on. Something to help them learn about their environment and ability to problem solve, but in a wilder, but controlled environment. Anyway, I digress, back to the lion..... This lion has been wandering the roads and spotted on the other side of the river. It’s been spotted on its regular route and heard calling loudly in the twilight hours. Many of the villagers have simple mud huts or huts on stilts made of woven branches, they may have a curtain at the front door, but very often not much more. They live a raw, exposed life. To have a lion wondering through the area where children play and people walk and work everyday, is somewhat of a worry. So far, it’s the villages livestock that has taken the brunt, twenty goats and one donkey, animals which no doubt the village can’t afford to lose. The options of relocating the lion haven’t been favoured by officials and something that I learnt yesterday was that it could potentially be darted and sold for canned hunting. The proceeds of which would be a significant monetary contribution to the people of the village, who have very little. All extra curricular activities at the local school, including the adult learning has been halted, due to this wandering star and a nod to the safety of its residents. Since returning to writing this post, I’ve actually moved to the area where the lion was spotted. A bid to find my fellow Leo.... I obviously scared him off as he hasn’t been heard since. The first night I became aware of noise and I checked my phone for the time. Bang on 2am. The time I was told he made his calls, but nothing since. It’s not expected that he’ll go after people as prey, unless he gets injured. I guess they’re easier to take down. With lions people particularly lazy, it’s a surprise, though I suppose we’re the last species they’d ever want to encounter given our reputation for cruelty and destruction. We had a group arrive at camp from Lusaka. They’d run here, makes my efforts on the trails seem a little paltry. Though I’m enjoying the diversity of my exercise much more these days, I have to say though, my body doesn’t always given that I’ve usually just rolled out of bed. I’ve been here a week so far. I can see Zim from the shore. It’s a great eco camp that runs educational camps for groups of school children and adult team building. They recycle ground glass in to paving slabs, reuse most things or at the very least recycle. They’re one of the first lodges to instal a reverse osmosis water filter, so they can take water directly from the river and turn it into purified drinking water, cutting out any risk of cholera. They don’t have a bar and they don’t serve bottled water, they collect it in billy cans from the nearest clean pump which is probably around 5 miles away. The first day we made the journey to the well. It operates on an arm crank, so it’s a tiring manual task to fill over 10 of those cans and then loading them back onto the truck. A teaspoon of bleach completes the process, advice given by the World Health Organization apparently, to cut the risk of cholera. You look at bottled water, you’ll find it in there anyway and proportions are negligible. He idea however still makes me feel uncomfortable. Surely with my background I can find a more natural alternative! If tea tree can help combat mrsa in hospitals and frankincense has been shown to help proliferate white blood cells, it’s hopeful. And despite this place being practically more inline with my approach to life, after a couple of days, I still find myself at a crossroads. It’s beautiful and when not filled with kids, who are fun but slightly hyper and tiring, it is peaceful. But I haven’t yet found my place or purpose yet. It’s unnerving at times and I do sometimes wonder whether there’s a problem that lies within me. My transient nature out here, it does feel like something is drawing me on. That I’ll get to where I’m going when the time is right, wherever that may be. In the meantime I’m amidst an exercise of patience and being. Like a seed being swept up in a current or on the breeze (like a breeze could lift me and three suitcases.... 🤪), I’ll land where I’m meant to be as and when. It’s a strange and sometimes unnatural feeling, just allowing things to take their course, without resistance. Exciting, petrifying, a little lonely sometimes, but I’m ok. I realise that I’m the only one who truly has my back, because I make my decisions and I’m the only one who truly understands my impetus.

[lyricalafrica2]

Thoughts in weeks past...

To appreciate stillness fully, maybe you have to have had mayhem and vice versa. Stillness is often required to form thoughts, creative and logical. Too much stillness however can turn the brain on itself. As comfortable as someone may be with themselves, there is such a thing as balance. It could be theorised that there is no such thing as boredom, frustration however is a real thing. Patience can be exhausted at times and especially when it feels as if there is no progression.... I have had my moments. So in the moments where I can, I duck out and spend a few moments with my watercolours. Easier and quicker than setting up my oils, though I am missing them. Getting an optimum vantage point on the bank can be awkward, especially in my usual way of working privately. I used to be ok in pottering down the lower bank, though since I’ve returned I’ve felt a little unnerved, a little uneasy. I’ve said before I take calculated risks, I’m not stupid and if something or someone makes me feel uneasy, there’s usually a very good reason for it. I’m hoping to get into the Lower Zambezi National Park within the next few weeks, I may visit Zim at some point too. I’m also in talks with someone about a regeneration project in the field of environmental awareness, conservation and animal welfare. It could be a grind, but if it works, it could be amazing! I have moments where I have a fear of being away from home for longer than anticipated. Missing my family two and four legged members and friends, then I have moments of sheer excitement at what I can do with this time. I just need to be aware of funds, making my time here and my efforts sustainable. Zambia like many countries isn’t having the best of economical times, as are its neighbouring countries such as Zimbabwe. The weather systems have left a trail of devastation be it through storms or lack of rain. The lack of rain here has left the crops depleted and therefore local growers are suffering financially. With nothing to sell and no money or food to feed their families with. The crime rates tend to rise in correlation and there have been reports of more violence in the city. I guess there’s already a certain amount, but as usual, so much goes unreported or becomes a part of daily life that people just accept. It’s a scary thought that countries crumble beneath you and people only start to realise when it’s too late. The answers to this problem, I don’t have; the only comment I have is with regards to awareness which I’m reluctant to use in a bid not to be patronising. The heat in these countries, in extremes can weaken you and can leave you with a shortened temper I guess, or alternatively, render you as laid back as they come. Suppression from regimes and impaired resources, it requires a lot of grit and determination to override it all.

[lyricalafrica2]

Sometimes...

[lyricalafrica2]

Perspectives.

I wrote this the other evening after a couple of sundowners. I wasn’t sure whether or not to post it. I suppose it can be construed as quite sensitive material.

Feel free to read it or not, it’s just something that seemed to flow.

Africa ain’t for wimps as I was reminded the other evening. Life is tough, the differences in mentality, in drive, in resilience even. You either lay down and take it, let it dissolve you or you fight back with all of your might and keep hitting stumbling blocks; or, you can tune in and listen. You compromise, you find that happy medium that keeps you functioning on a level that you’re happy with, just don’t expect it to be full throttle. Tune in or ship out I guess.

If the old adage, “the female of the species is more deadly than the male” is true, then Africa is very much a female energy. Sorry, I don’t want to upset any gender neutrals out there, but nature being nature, sometimes it’s true. You don’t tune in, you don’t learn the lessons she presents, you don’t respect her and she can take you in an instant. Survival of the fittest, Darwin had it so right. Even when a hungry lion hunts, they won’t distinguish between an injured antelope or an injured human. It’s all fair game. As species who coexist on this earth, you don’t understand one another or what not to do to that jeopardises your safety, you expose yourself more readily. That circle of life includes us all and as supposedly more highly evolved species, we have more responsibility to make sure we’re all living with more awareness. Apart from that many of us don’t.

The arrogance and assumptions that pass through the human ego actually weakens us. We couldn’t ever be seen as prey, we’re human, it’s a harsh way to see things, but it is something that Africa has highlighted tenfold. We all need each other to survive. Everyone, everything on the planet is here to serve a purpose from the germs lying in the bottom of that muddy puddle to the apex predator, man! Every single thing in between has a purpose.

I’ve found it a little hard when I’ve lost an animal from my life, I’ve even been a little embarrassed or apologetic about the grief I’ve felt. Truth is, I have feelings for that beating heart. The fact I couldn’t do more for it, in some cases, the fact that some body may have taken that beat away for no particular reason. Maybe for fun, to satiate some sadistic pleasure or to quell their own hurt. In reality, you learn, you don’t use that to harm anyone or anything else. That is spite, and that is a particularly ugly human trait.

I learnt recently of a baboon being beaten to death by the side of the road by a group of locals. The idea of that is abhorrent. Inexcusable cruelty, which they somehow managed to justify in their heads, or maybe they just didn’t think. They reduced someone to a something. And there again, there are communities so remote here, if a fight begins, it can go right to the death, with the victim tossed into the river without a second thought. It’s a side of humanity I can’t quite comprehend.

You won’t always like what you see around you, whether at home or away. Things done to shock or spite people are very often done for a reaction. All this sensationalism in the press, radicalism, extremism. Give them no airtime, and it can be hard to do so, but, just maybe without the drama, you take away their justification for violence and creating chaos.

In the day to day run of life, we can find ourselves being rather unscrupulous with our objections, damn right unreasonable at times. Sometimes you have to be brave and take a rather uncomfortable look inside and decide exactly what it is your seeing and why you have that perspective if it’s so objectionable. Human beings rarely like to admit their flaws and rather more like to reflect them on others. It takes courage to admit them, even if only to yourself! You’ve been wronged? Retaliation rarely gets anyone anywhere. Remember, an eye for an eye will eventually render the whole world blind. If everyone ends up blind, we’re all screwed anyway!

From the biggest thing, down to the smallest we have a choice in how to respond. Be it the cicadas keeping me awake at night or the birds waking me in the morning. I choose how I respond and the times I personally forget how to do so, are when I’m over tired, or I’ve given some ego too much airtime and then I remind myself. Just as we all choose how we respond to each other. Black, white, catholic, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Christian, Jehovah, Agnostic or any other label. It doesn’t matter what you believe, how able bodies or highly qualified you are, we’re all made of the same stuff. Non of the above gives you the higher ground. There needn’t be anything so radical about it. There shouldn’t have to be blood spilt in the name of religion, politics or any other institution. And certainly not for something as trivial as money.

Fear seems to be root cause of most problems, fear of being without, fear of not being in control - are any of us at all times? Money is just a means of control and the economy is just a way of controlling the people seemingly. Education and encouraging people to use their own minds, to love and respect themselves is the most powerful tool you can give someone. And if that’s the norm, they’re more likely to pass it on to the next and so it perpetuates.

It’s not money that directly solves these problems, it’s mentality. Few can handle money. Most will squander it and you certainly can’t make any use of it personally when you’re no longer on the earth. It’s a thing and like most things, they’re irrelevant. Life is what matters.

Of course, these are just seedlings of thoughts, in an overcomplicated world; however in order to solve a problem, you often have to simplify it and the simplicity will be relative to the individuals given variables throughout their life. One thing remains though, life is what you make of it. Resign yourself or smash that glass ceiling and aspire to be.

[lyricalafrica2]

Here I am, celebrating Earth Day! How lucky are we to have this big beautiful planet that provides for all of our needs! Let’s not exploit it in return! Since I’ve arrived here, my diet has all been fresh and seasonal, fewer things from packets and I’ve drank more water. I’ve always exercised, but it has become more balanced. I’m buying into big companies profoundly less to sustain me and further more I’m beginning to tune in more with my environment and living a more outdoors lifestyle. I live with meat eaters who respect their environment and appreciate where their food comes from. If they want meat, they very often don’t go to the supermarket! It’s fresh and free range! Sounds harsh, but in the grand circle of life, this is a whole lot more sustainable than supermarket options. They don’t frown on me for not eating meat and are even happy to join me on occasion. I eat what my body needs and I don’t feel it needs meat. Very occasionally fish, but around 90% of my diet is vegan. I’m not going to save the world alone with this approach and it’s not for everyone; however if I can reduce my personal negative impact on resources then all is good. It’s about that conscious effort to live a better life and be a better person. I still worry about the attitude to waste and recycling out here, the poaching and the trade in animals. A life is a life and it has value, I realise that different cultures have different understandings of that. But there again, even the western world has problems with the intensive farming of animals for food and bi products and maltreatment. The lesson... we can all learn from each other and bring our existences into greater balance. We all share this earth, we “all” have a purpose here and it’s up to each and everyone of us to respect it, ourselves, each other and our roles in preserving it.