Somewhere between words and the world, and a perpetually curious heart, life has unravelled and the wind carried me in so many different directions. It’s been the most beautiful adventure and it’s only just beginning – but it calls me to abandon some darlings.
So this is my blog’s swan song; that final breath before the end.
The exhibition can now be found and followed on Facebook (for more journalism and traveling tales), as well as on my Fine Art website (a bouquet of canvases and stained surfaces) … so pop across and let’s go on another adventure.
Where there’s black smoke, there’s a burning tyre.
We walk towards the rising tower and flaming rubber. We’re a group of journalists wandering around Joza, documenting the violence that has erupted in the community. The photographer beside me starts framing the scene through her lens: angry orange, a littered street, loitering spectators, a smudged sky.
“No photos. No photographs. Go away.” A young boy waves at the camera and furiously shakes his head. “No photographs!”
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she says as she lowers her camera and moves across the street.(more…)
Our history hurts, and without education, freedom is dumb because people are trapped by the crimes of time. Although the blade has fallen on fees, how do we account for the suffering and desperation of our communities?