all the world's a stage

we've all heard this one before.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts...

William Shakespeare, from As You Like It Act 2, scene 7.

why am i posting it today? well, it came to mind when i thought of what i'm doing up today. why the hell did i get out of bed? i guess i had to play the stage today, like everybody else. i had to make my entrance and sing my lines and take a bow.

why bother with your lines if you don't have an audience? there's no rehearsal. this is it. there will always be an audience, like it or not. people will watch you, scowl at your attempts. praise you even. know this. they don't always applaud.

so break a leg. or both if you must.

picasso and africa

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, Pablo Picasso, 1907





















Fang mask, Gabon

is affinity just a fancy euphemism for stealing?

just to be with you

to be unafraid
and feel you close.
it is enough.

the traveller to istanbul

How art thou falln Imperial City, Low!
Where are thy Hopes of Roman Glory now?
Where are thy Palaces by Prelates rais'd
Where preistly Pomp in Purple Lustre blaz'd?

Constantinople by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu


Written January 1718 in the Chiosk at Pera

I don't know much about Istanbul, but I would so love to go there.

riding in buses with boys

Clyde and I caught a bus to Hiddingh Hall today with some particularly loud and prosey drama students.

some things I have noticed today:

-some Jammie drivers take their good sweet time, because, really, they have no place better to be anyway. well, until their shift ends at least.
-others like to take to woolsack with great velocity and attempt to beat their previous time, which makes for a bumpy ride down the mountain.
-when some bodonkered pick-up truck driver attempts to drive THE OPPOSITE WAY down Long Street (which is a one way up) it is okay to yell profanities at the rest of the traffic that have complied to driving in the RIGHT direction.
-i have an obsession with scarves and wearing them correctly.
-there is not enough romance in Cape Town.
-cannabis/weed/cannabis may be purchased in broad daylight.
-you can tell an authentic gucci bag by the initials of the designer on the zipper.
-pigeons on hiddingh campus are a different species to those scavenging rats on upper.
-clyde and i talk a deal of nonsense on the bus.


isn't it funny how there seems to be nothing much to write about unless there's opportunity to procrastinate, in which case the words flow freely and time floats by swiftly. when there's really and honestly nothing else you ought to be getting on with, time seems to move glacially, and there's really not much to say.

anon

when does a person become

that ambitious

that she no longer sweet-talks for babies, or pities pedestrians, cringes at someone else's shame, or even blushes to her own misdemeanor?

when does she become so hardened by the eggshell of her self that she can no longer crack ?

strange analogy to use, i know. but how can there be so many people in the world, but just not enough friends?

my precious way

i try not to be a brat about it

but i like to get what i want.

always.

and most of the time i do.

you don't know it but you're beautiful

hello it's twidle

i seem to have a small and inconsequential crush on an english lecturer who is currently lecturing us on passage to india. i don't think he's every girl's dish though. sort of skinny with glasses. what we'd call the 'nerdy' academia type. nonetheless i think i am more enthralled by his name, which is 'hedley twidle.'

what a darling name!

p.s. my boyfriend need not worry because although twidle's name may be darling, lecturers make bores for lovers. touche.

twee sunday