It was 2021 when Liso opened her hands to us and fed us. I know this because it was also the last time I took my Pentax K1000 out into the world…and that alone tells you something about the nature of that day. I cannot tell you what the food tasted like. The tongue forgets, but the heart does not. What I remember is how unguarded I was, how whole. Full of a joy that asked no questions of itself, the way a child is joyful…without knowing why, and without needing to know. The food was so good I forgot to take pictures of it. And besides, I had no interest in winding a 40 year old camera while people were busy enjoying their aubergine rollatini. It was there that I first met Nhlanhla. I now count him among the people I hold dear. And there was another who came that day. An angel, I called him then. I have written of him before, for those who have been around long enough to remember. There was wine. I was slow to ask its name. Afraid, I think, that the answer would make it ordinary. So I let it be nameless. It was exceptional. My hair was out in a full afro then. Believe this if you will. It wasn't healthy looking, nor was it decently styled, but I had hair, at least. There is something to be said for that. The day ended with us sitting at a fireplace, plates empty, stomachs full, wine dwindling and conversation going strong. When I finally left, I was certain that the day could not have been more perfect.
Where I Have Sat
I have been a student of chairs.
Wooden ones with splintered patience,
plastic ones whitening in the sun,
iron ones that remember the cold
long after the morning has forgiven it.
I have sat in rooms that did not belong to me
until I rested there long enough.
Sat facing windows,
sat with my back to doors,
sat between strangers
who would never know my name
but shared the same horizon.
Each place kept the imprint
for a second after I rose
a warmth, a shifting of air,
the soft rearranging of space
around absence.
Chairs are witnesses.
They hold what we cannot
the waiting,
the thinking,
the almost leaving.
And in every place I have been seated,
the world has moved around me
like light around a still figure,
as if to say:
you were here.
@_origin_art has brought our work together into one space again, and this week we gather for a walkabout. It’s one of my favourite ways to be with art. I’ll be there alongside some incredible artists and friends sharing my process carried into the work, and listening as they open up theirs.
Location: AfricaWorks | 33 Baker Street, Rosebank
Date: 20 August 2025
Time: 17:30
RSVP Link in bio!
Come through and be with us.
Today's air was soft and warm, still holding the light from the morning. I sat outside with a burger, unhurried, letting the day take shape as it pleases.
The sun leaned in a little closer this morning. I slipped away for coffee, just a pause, with people who hold space like hearths. A soft beginning, before the day asks more of me.
