Take note

Me before the ballet…

Hold onto special moments… when you’re enjoying things, when you feel good.

Remember them, highlight them, force them to the forefront of the mind.

When existential crisis is simply a way of life-a perennial buzzing noise at the back of the brain, so longstanding and so negatively normal… Good Times must be returned to, savoured, calmly surveyed inch by inch.

With a fearfilled interview ahead of me this week, involving me remembering traumatic events that I have buried to simply survive living… I need these precious triggers of Goodness, anticipation, warmth, safety.

Planning my outfit, pulling on my silky, delicate tights, choosing my bling with a careful aesthetic eye, eyelining with dramatic emphasis, wrapping myself in my faux fur…

Spending 2 hours indulging in beauty that is unnecessary but oh so necessary….

Do this for You, for your loved ones so they can get the best of you, so you can be resurrected once again to that bright, shiny You.


Me and Giselle…


Dado Masilo’s production of Giselle is a force to be reckoned with.

What a privilege to see this beauty in action… It reminded me of home (being half South African) … hearing that distinct Zulu intonation and ascendent choral harmonies, seeing elements of the traditional dance and Kwaito, feeling the pain of Apartheid pulsating through the alcoholism depicted and exploitative family relationships, took me directly home to my own yard in Soweto.

The bold unison movement that punctuated Giselle’s personal tragedy reminded me and my Greek companion of the Ancient Chorus: powerful, hypnotic, overwhelmingly fatalistic …

Somehow, Dada’s characterisation spoke to me as a mixed race woman who’s never quite fitted in…searching desperately for somewhere to belong and being periodically abused by My Own along the way.

Most importantly, it reminded me that the revenge Giselle achieved in the spirit realm is a fantasy absolutely not worth chasing.

Giselle succeeded in seeking vengeance from her predators in the most potent, self – actualised, feministic fantasy – sort of way. But it just didn’t appeal to me as a path to go down. Giselle in the process lost her softness, her naivitie, her innocence which despite my own suffering, I hang into with all my Will. Bitterness is just not an option.

Let our abusers  hang themselves…. Life Will do the talking.