Tuesday, February 07, 2012

This blog has moved HERE

Wednesday, December 28, 2011


And now, as 2011 draws to a close, it's time for a little review of all that has been and to consider where I am heading.

As far as goals go, it's been a bit of a mixed bag. I've achieved some (getting at least 5 articles published), I've almost achieved some (reading 17 books, when I set out to read 25) and some have completely fallen by the wayside (transforming my body).

It has been a remarkable year. Very eventful. It has only been now, in the quiet, that I can look back and see how much has happened and how far I have been propelled.

I started 2011 in a job I wasn't entirely happy with, and so did Madelein. She started her business in June and I joined her in August.

My plans had originally been to return to the world of journalism, however, I got bored in between job interviews and offered to help Maddies out in her business. And now I work with one of our clients daily and still get time to write.

I now write freelance, with most of my writing work going to Alice Magazine and Rahotep Start Living website. The plan is to expand my freelance clients and at the same time to submit something to a writing competition or several.

And also to turn my body into a work of performance art. My friend Dori and I are kicking off the year with a one month experiment in veganism. And why not?

I've been looking over Start Wearing Purple and realised that what is contained in this blog belongs to another time, another place. It is mostly the past with some movie reviews thrown in for good measure. So, I am moving the blog. While Start Wearing Purple will be available to read to anyone who finds it, I am creating a blog that will be a little more in line with where I feel my life is nudging me.

Thanks for the reads. I will post the link to the new blog in the new year.

Monday, December 05, 2011

Motherhood. Not.

There was once a time when I ached for children. I am talking about a physical sensation, bringing about the understanding of wanting something with every fibre of one’s being. Every nerve ending reached out towards having a child and it drove me nuts.

As women, we live within an ocean of chemicals that trigger all kinds of very bizarre reactions. My (almost) demented longing for a baby began at 25, reached its insane peak at the age of 35, with me weeping uncontrollably every time an advert for formula or nappies flashed across the TV screen. It was clear to me that there really was a biological clock and that I could, in fact, hear it ticking.

And then, just like that, it stopped.

I reckon that it’s part of the hormonal soup we float in, sending out a message to use those eggs before they reach their “best before date”. I figure that, realizing that babies were so not going to happen, my body decided that rather than waste its time on pushing me towards procreation, its energy would be better spent elsewhere. Like on craving chocolate, say.

For a while there I did harbor some regret that I didn’t produce a tiny human. I don’t anymore, though. The reason is simple: I’ve become incredibly selfish.

A baby would not fit into my life at all. I like my space. I enjoy lying in and having weekends where my partner do nothing but cuddle in bed with the dogs. I don’t want to spend money on an education or clothing other than my own. I like that my life is my own and I don’t have to squeeze in school runs or karate classes or soccer matches.

And yet, there was once a time in my life when I was looking forward to all that. Packing school lunches, cheering on the sidelines, going to every match, debating competition, prize giving and extra mural class that could be thrown at me. I wanted to read bedtime stories and sing lullabies and change nappies. And I envied my friends and family who had that opportunity.

Now, not so much.

I see how having children has enriched the lives of those around me. They work a little harder than I do. They are more driven, wanting to create a happier life for their offspring. There is a depth to a life with children, from what I’ve observed. So many lessons to learn along the way in the raising of them, watching them grow and become individuals in their own right.

However, I do not feel that I am missing out on too much. I get to be the cool Aunty and cousin, a role that suits me to the ground. It’s a path that I have chosen for myself for my own reasons and it enriches my life in its own way.

Being without my own children doesn’t mean I don’t get to pass a legacy on to another generation. It just means that it gets passed on a little sideways and in my own peculiar way.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Move.

I have lost track of how many times I have moved over the past ten years. From one city to another. Across continents. With loads of furniture and with just what I can fit in one suitcase. I've moved a lot.

We have finally moved to a house we're renting out in Alberton. And I simply cannot find the energy to unpack boxes. Neither can Madelein.

On all these house moving pictures there are pictures of happy couples with children relaxing amongst boxes with big smiles on their faces. Liars.

The guys who were helping us move were a little late, we had to sedate the cat because he was so stressed and we spent the day in bed yesterday. Moving is not fun, and I certainly hope that this is an exercise I won't have to repeat for a long while.

In the meantime, though, I am grateful for our new home. The dogs are happy. We are happy. Despite all the chaos with boxes all over the place, we are managing to settle in. And I am grateful for the people who helped us move.

Tired, though. Next time there has to be a move, I am hiring a company to get it all done for me, and then Madelein and I will be spending our day in a Day Spa getting massaged, pampered and enjoying cocktails.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Dreams About Shoes

I have been dreaming about shoes. Three dreams in one week, all about buying shoes.

Last night's dream - I am shopping at an Indian store with Madelein, Auntie Liz and Devangi. I find a beautiful orange and purple shawl with an elephant motif. I ask the guy if there is a salwar that goes with it. He produces a beautiful suit with an orange top and purple trousers and with that, a pair of purple Indian style shoes with intricate beading and sequins. It's so me! And I have enough money for the whole outfit.

The night before - I am shopping for socks, but find a pair of comfy flat black shoes with a white trim.

Last week's dream - I am shopping for practical hiking boots, but a gorgeous pair of brown mary-jane style heels catches my eye, though we have trouble finding a pair that fits.

Very odd.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Really nice dream

I am at a beautiful mansion with an infinity pool, fruit grove and rose garden. It's night and Madelein and I are attending a formal dinner party. The dream takes place after the dinner part of the evening and we have all just watched a beautiful film shown in the house's indoor cinema. Everyone is in evening dress and I am wearing a fabulous ivory evening gown with a black and green brocade coat over it. We adjourn to a ball room where cocktails are served. Someone announces that it is 5am and time for good morning cocktails. The couple - two elegant men - who own the house, and who are launching the cocktail products make the announcement. We all select a cocktail to appeal to us. I choose the white chocolate cocktail, which is served in an edible white chocolate cocktail glass. The other cocktails available are strawberry, accompanied with strawberries stuffed with cream, peach accompanied with peach mousse and cherry accompanied by sugared cherries.

It is the most delicious cocktail I have ever had.

The music strikes up and Madelein and I dance. I take the brocade coat off and the evening gown is strapless but then changes to full sleeved. The evening comes to an end and I grab my coat and we go to the parking lot and our car is a vintage classic chevy. Madelein says to me, "What a night. Pity we have to go to work now," and I reply, "We don't have to. We are our own bosses. We can go and grab breakfast and then do whatever we want."

And so the dream ended.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


I am driving in my car and at a stop street, a man gets into the car, threatening to assault me. I yell it him, "Oh no, you bloody don't!" and kick him out of the car and curse him three times.

Shaken, I drive to an apartment - my apartment. Friends are sympathetic and understanding. I tell them I am going to spend some time with my parents. I travel to a city where they live. In the main square of the business district, there is a giant statue of a scorpion, with its sting pointing directly into the middle of the square. I tell my parents, who have met me there, that this is not good energy. They agree and tell me they are heading to their guesthouse and I should meet them there.

I head off into the library. (This library often appears in my dreams. Sometimes as a bookshop and sometimes as a library, but the layout is usually the same and the librarian is usually the same). I look for the esoteric section. There is none. The librarian suggests I try some light reading for a change. I don't have my library card, but she knows me and says I could take the books anyway. The books I have out are due on the 17th and in my dream, this is the 19th. She is understanding. I select "The Magician's Nephew" by CS Lewis and another funny, satirical book by an author I have never heard of in waking life, but who I apparently enjoy in my dream life.

I go to the guesthouse. It's 3 storeys tall and I am looking for my parents. In the entrance hall, there is a smaller version of the scorpion statue, with its stinger aimed directly over a dining table, which is, in itself odd, as it has a pillar extending out of the middle of it. I ask the person showing me around if a lot of arguments take place in the entrance hall. She says yes. The whole guesthouse seems to be filled with grumpy, rude people, who are snippy when I ask which room my parents are in.

I finally locate my parents' room, but before I can go in, I wake.