Burial Ground

Burial Ground

One day I was out taking photos for a painting and drove past Motherwell Cemetery in Gqeberha (then Port Elizabeth). I was saddened by these basic “gravestones”, which were really just pieces of plastic attached to a metal crossbars. I was involved, at the time, in HIV awareness training and played a tiny part in supporting some kids affected by HIV. It’s an awful disease, made infinitely more so by the loneliness resulting from stigma. I knew that many of these graves held its victims, so the scene really moved me. I imagined the plastic “gravestones” flying away into the sky (Gqeberha is super-windy), and the poem was born.


One day I was humming “Let’s Twist Again”, and this poem was sparked. It speaks to our arrogant consumerist culture that has little to no awareness or concern for past and present sacrifices made for their freedom in the ongoing taming of Man’s obsession with power.


“Belonging” is about that moment when you realise, with a great ocean-wave-drown-dump of insight, that your life is so much more than your own wandering path of half-blind choices. We’re born hard-clung to the the thin wedge of history – the vagaries of choices and rules past and present. Doing our best to become something more than the arbitrary package bestowed on us at birth.

I remember

A simple poem about meeting up with your first love, or an old lover. I was honoured that it was selected for the table decorations for the Sisterhood exhibition at The Studio Art Gallery in Ballito.


Wildflower was inspired by my sister who is a tough-as-nuts maritime archaeologist with gooey marshmallow deep inside.

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