The Weight of Waiting

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.

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Channeling The Sartorialist Within

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.

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Awesomeness in Randomness

Nun at a pay phone.

Mannequin gives Woolworths the finger.

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A Frankie Update

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.

Frankie Then

Frankie Now

 

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“I’m good. And you?”

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:

And You?

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Life Between The Pages

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.

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The Voortrekker and the Chang drinking Thai Fisherman

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.

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People of Joburg – Cleveland

This is Hayley.  Hayley owns a small corner cafe’ in an industrial park in Cleveland.  She has taken much care to decorate her simple shop with colourful shelves and a fantastic range of fake plants and plastic ivy creeping along the walls (everywhere except for in these photos!).  When I asked her if she liked living in Joburg she said, ‘I don’t know anywhere else.  Business is bad.  But this is home’.

See more of the Ameezing People of Joburg series here and here and here.

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Why did the duck cross the road?

This morning whilst driving along Owl Street (how deliciously appropriate), I suddenly saw something in the road and slammed on brakes.  The ‘something’ turned out to be a Papa Duck, a Mama duck and 5 babies ducklings, crossing one of the busiest roads in Joburg.  Strolling like they owned Owl Street.  Ameezing

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A Different Shade of Lonely

Discovered this incredible story on a wonderful blog called Cup of Jo.   It has to be one of the saddest things ever.  A deafening kind of isolation.  Read the story of the loneliest whale in the world here.  Ameezing.

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