‘I make these sketches for almost every ritual/concert (thinking-doing-reflecting), here is one for tomorrow. Also on a flight to Johannesburg this afternoon I had these thoughts… See photo at the bottom of the text.
I have seen and heard so much under the sun. This body has memories of pain—with ears familiar with the sound of gun shots and a nose that has witnessed the smell of a tear gas and that of blood.
Sometimes tears run down my face and disappear before they could reach the ground. I’m beginning to believe that these tears evaporate and hide deep in my consciousness, so as to rain down my cheeks again when pain finds me.
Strange, very strange—at times when these tears fall, I appreciate the warmth they bring to my face. For a little while it’s as though I had no pain in my heart. But this pain knows how to find me.
There are moments of victory where pain breaks into song. The sounds of these songs refuse to be painful. I wish that these song would never end. Inside these songs we have built homes.
I feel a glimpse of peace.