Red Eyes.

A long time ago, someone, somewhere, decided that it was okay to work these kind of hours, with these kind of people, no questions asked. For instance, when you have to wait for the important director on a Saturday, from 14h00 to 23h00. And then have him go off to dinner, with no meeting or apology. And by that time being too tired to be pissed off.

The things that make it worthwhile:

props people walking around with armsfull of plastic crayfish, trailing strings of paper dolls. Dashing to the car in the rain to get the globe and someone singing softly as I walk by: She's got the whole world, in her hands.....

Starting the day with a slice of toast and German Hagebutte spread. Rose hips. The Dolce de Leche of fruit, there's something of the guava there and a hint of the tartness of cooked tomato.
(One wonders where the petals go)

And every morning, those cat paw prints on my windshield.

I found the key.

It was a Saturday for magpies. Buttons and cotton reels at the market. Old enamel plates.

My friend Henri has a shop, the most marvelous shop.

KOÖPERASIE STORIES

is near Franschoek, on the R45.

Beautiful painted furniture from Eastern Europe. Enamel, enamel... mountains of gorgeous Polish enamel to fuel the flames of an obsession. Grain bags from the Ukraine, huge coloured glass vessels, zinc baths, tiny leather shoes for dolls... all the things you never even knew you wanted.

(And on the way to the key, we found an eye.)

Madiba Muti.

Alas and alack, not everyone you meet in this world is nice. Sometimes you have to work with real walnuts. Oh, the nicknames and the things we utter loudly in Afrikaans, right next to those paleface barbarians...
 

So my side project this week was the little poppet below. Stuffed with extra crinkly plastic, he makes a very satisfying sound when prodded. I found sewing with luminous thread quite thrilling. And there's a tiny something hidden deep in his gizzard,
but it's a secret.

Happy Friday 13!

Virgo Delights.

Chairs covered in pink cowhide (with hair!) at Hans Niehaus in Claremont.

A crocheted Impala at Weylandts.

Sleeping animals.

Winter meals. Polenta, roasted butternut and shallots, Bella tomatoes, caramelized Sage butter, pine nuts and Parmiggiano. (On a plate by Spode, retrieved from a shipwreck)

Sunny VW Combi's. I stop to photograph them and people wave. The Frenchman drives by and calls out: Bonjour Cherie!

A bit of whimsy.

Matches from Belgium, family sized avocado pears brought back from Natal.

The way the light shines into the office some days, when the rain isn't crashing down.

When your car feels like home.

Left in the dark of morning, returned in the dark of night.

Hours in my car. Waiting for clearances. Working without a brief. Unexpected complications.

It was a tough week.

A scout went ahead and the pictures he brought back made me cry.

I fell irresistibly in love with a fat orphan baby.

They all made my heart contract.

Again, moments unphotographed: laundry day in Khayelitsha - lines of washing as far as the eye could see, one line containing only leagues of socks, pegged from big to small. Three young men next to the road with tall staffs and a vast herd of assorted dogs. And I told myself, wishfully: next time.