If I were to write the story of these pictures it would be one of waiting. Of a moth so out of place yet totally at home in a dull parking lot. Waiting for its mate, or perhaps the sun to shine in a place it never will. Of a mother and daughter, sitting in town on plastic chairs, eating cheap biscuits and watching each other’s hair being braided. Of an anxious girl in a printing shop, waiting for her job interview to start. Nervously wringing the umbrella she is holding like she is wringing out stubborn, wet washing.
Of a girl, let’s call her Camilla, who travels a lot without going very far. Who sometimes feels like Pavlov’s dog on a hamster wheel. Who is not very sure of her own journey but whose heart gets made to feel like air in seeing others living their lives in beautiful ways. Whose whole Monday is made by seeing a moth, a mother and a daughter and a girl, waiting.
On Friday morning I spotted these gentlemen sitting outside a cafe’ in Norwood speaking Italian. I love the three gold buttons on the blazer of the man on the left. Ameezing.
Nun at a pay phone.
Mannequin gives Woolworths the finger.
An update on my favourite, little Joburger. Frankie, you get more and more ameezing every time I see you. Read the story of the day Frankie was born here.
Why hello there. How the heck are you? Over the last while I have been:
Listening to this little guy say, ‘Tarp, Tarp’ (he couldn’t yet say ‘sh’ for ‘sharp sharp’)
Marvelling at unexpected colour palettes and textures:
Being inspired by this simple quote:
Watching Autumn silently unfold:
And missing these guys:
Funny the things you find when moving house. I discovered these two pictures being used as bookmarks from who knows how long ago. The first photograph is my cherub-faced older brother and our Grandfather Steve. And the second is of a wonderful, sunny afternoon spent rowing on Zoo Lake. Life between the pages. Ameezing.
A little while ago, Aadil and I went to a dress up birthday party where the theme was ‘Dress as your Heritage’. Holy Panda’s Toenails it was difficult, especially when your heritage is kind of 1820’s Settler, kind of Irish-ish. Fortunately, my little brother, the Ameezing Joel Janse van Vuuren, whipped up this super Dr Quinn-esque skirt and kappie (the shirt is from my wardrobe, I wear it on ‘Nerdy Librarian’ days). Voortrekker chic, no? Aadil wore traditional Thai fisherman’s pants and a Chang Beer shirt. A girl at the party said to me, ‘Wow, what was it like growing up Amish?’ The other outfits at the party were a mixture of farmers (with combs in socks, ob), Jewish schoolgirls, one British soldier and a German lederhosen wearing guy. Ameezing.