The Missing Kruger Millions

The Day Dreamer

The dog wouldn’t walk.

It just sat there adamantly refusing to budge. Pauline saw the mutt as a metaphor. It was a vestige of a past relationship that wouldn’t stop haunting her.

She dreamt about James, relived that time he took her up the mountain. She would return to the summit almost daily, filling up the liminal moments of life. She thought about being above the clouds while she was doing laundry, while waiting for a bus, while going to the bathroom. She hated it.

Why would her mind torture her so? The worst part was that she could no longer tell whether that trip to the top was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Come on, pup!” She tugged at the leash without any result.

“Come onnnnnn…” She drew out the last syllable and instantly regretted it, because a man passing by at that exact moment, shot her a look over his shoulder.

They made brief eye contact and she was embarrassed. Pauline was embarrassed easily, and James would often tease her to make her turn red. Now, looking back on it, she also couldn’t tell if she liked this or not.

The dog just sat there, like a fat little buddha on the sidewalk and stared at her.

“Let’s walk,” she said and pulled the leash to no avail.

She felt her cell phone buzz and as she took it out, she pictured the mountain again, much to her chagrin this time.

It was her mom.

She ignored the text, but assumed it said something to the extent of “hope you’re ok, honey. Just checking in. Why don’t you come by for dinner soon?”

When she had her visions of the summit, she would always alter one thing. It was her psychiatrist’s who suggested it. The doctor thought it might be therapeutic to gradually shift away from the day dream that was holding her hostage towards a positive, lucid dream where she was in control.

She was not in control. That damn dog still wouldn’t move. She sighed heavily, and leaned over to pick the animal up.

The dog farted loudly, again just as a handsome man passed by.

“God dammit!” she said. “It wasn’t me!”

The handsome stranger smiled and winked. And as she shoved the leash into her pocket, she saw James in her mind's eye and pictured him as a stubborn, furry, fat, farting dog.

Fascination with Hands

Ever since I was young, I've been extremely interested in the mechanics of our hands. Along with our affinity for speech, our tool-making fingers are perhaps the defining characteristics of humanity. I mean, yes, it's pretty cool that we have an opposable thumb, but the beauty of design doesn't stop at being able to make the OK sign.

Out hands are remarkably strong. Just ask a rock climber. Not only are we able to grasp, pinch, and grip, we have enough prehensile force to hold our body weight in most positions. If you examine the force applied during a grasping motion without knowing it's a hand, you might picture a stocky appendage, bulky with muscle. In fact, the design of the primate hand is pretty spectacular. All the muscles are withdrawn from the precision-like instrument that is the fingers to a position high on the forearm.

As far as I'm concerned the human hand is the most beautiful part of our bodies. It contains nerve bundles that release cortisol and endorphins when damaged as we assume an automatic defense posture. It also, in many ways, is the link to our reality. The hand grasps us to this world as much as the brain defines who we are.

Poor Reptile Girl

A few weeks ago, I was at a bar, playing shuffleboard with an underwear-model-looking guy, who I can only assume my friend-girl brought along to make me jealous. I was explaining the rules when suddenly a large group of extremely tall girls rushed us. They were almost all exclusively blonde, and spoke with a strong Midwestern accent. They swarmed me and basically claimed me as their mascot for the night, because I happened to be wearing their team colours.

You see, these girls formed a volley ball team from Oklahoma State, and I expect they had a good day of spiking V-balls at my Canadian compatriots. They were all in good spirits and quite well on their way to having an incredibly hungover last day of tournament. I have to say that between crossing borders, getting swallowed up in a group mentality, and riding their win to its natural, alcohol-fueled conclusion, these girls were incredibly touchy. As a gentleman (Yes! That's right, "a gentleman"!) I can't say I've ever been able to say this unironically before, but I felt completely objectified. I was passed back and forth between these excessively tall girls like a piece of meat. In vain, I tried to object nicely: "I hope you don't usually treat your mascot like this." Honestly, though, I did get used to it fast, though, once past the tenderizing phase.

Surrounded by a number of blondes with their hands in questionable places, I straight-out told them: "Ok. I gotta say, I've never felt more like a piece of meat before."

One girl quickly responded: "Yeah, yeah! We're girls we know how you feel. When you're in your twenties, you hate it, but as soon as you're over thirty, you can't get enough of it."

There was one girl among them that was different. She was the shortest girl on the team by a significant margin. Now, I've always had a thing for underdogs. I felt a kinship with the short one, so I stuck around her. She was more reserved, and kept her hands to herself.

Now, I was getting more and more inebriated as well, and, at this point I should mention, I'm great at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time -- especially when flirting. (I mean, during a romantic encounter, I once told a girl she had beautiful puce eyes. Puce! A colour the Oxford Dictionary defines as "a purplish brown; a flea-colour.")

Pulled back from the roving horde of Amazonians, we had our first real conversation of the night.

"So a noticed you're not going as crazy as your teammates."

"Yeah, I'm usually the voice of reason."

"Good stuff."

"I gotta say, I don't know how you put up with all the fondling."

"I'm getting used to it, but sometimes it is a bit too much."

"You should tell them."

"I'm pretty sure I made my stance clear, but they are not listening. I guess today is a freebie for you girls."
Awkward eye contact.

"I noticed you're not very touchy-feely. You probably could get away with it tonight." I winked at the short girl.

"Yeah, I mean..." I finish the sentence in my mind a few different ways, before she finally says, "My hands are probably too cold."

And here is where I inexplicably say, just as the rest of the team encroaches on our tete-a-tete, "What are you, a reptile?"

They start chanting "Reptile girl! Reptile girl!"

At that point, I left. Poor Reptile girl never had a chance.

Open Letter to The Governor-General

Right Honourable David Johnston:

I am writing to you in regards to our Prime Minister seeking another prorogation of parliament.  I am well aware that as Governor-General, your duty forbids you to intervene in the democratic process of Canada; however, I feel that this does not mean you should acquiesce to demands that exploit the parliamentary process.  I feel strongly that consistent prorogation is an affront to our democratic system, and sets a terrible precedent that other leaders will continue to use to avoid accountability and to silence critics.  As both debate and responsible government are keystones of our democracy, it falls to you, Sir to uphold these tenets. 

I implore you not to prorogue parliament this time.  Doing so would be tantamount to intervening in the democratic process.  I beg you to consider this action deeply.  Maintaining a functional, exuberant democracy is the only right path.  As a Canadian citizen yourself, please do what is right: see that our parliamentary system is not abused and exploited.  Stand up for honour, and most importantly for the correct procedures of governance.

Sincerely,

Graeme Lottering

Using Copper Oxides in a Painting

It's nice to finally be abe to work outside. I started a new painting, inspired by the pine forest. In this painting, my challenge is to use homemade verdigris or malachite, both of which are copper oxides. Since those minerals require a highly potent ammonia (read: rank-stankerously filthy smell), it has to be done outside.

Mala is investigating the stink!

In case I ever want to do this again, I'm experimenting to see which treated copper plate provides the most pigment. Here are the coppers I prepared:

• immaculate plate, in other words, the control;
• engraved marks with a blade;
• bent and wrinkled;
• sanded with fine paper.

I made the sky over a few days. Right, now I'm working on getting a copper pine-needle carpet going for my landscape. If everything works out according to plan, the malachite will be sprinkled on top to give it more depth. 

While I'm waiting for the washes to dry, I varnished this piece of wood, and another miscellaneous object I found in the forest. It could be some sort of farm machine part, I don't know. You'll get to see it eventually. For now, I'm keeping it under wraps. But here's the wood. Yeah, definitely enjoy the wood. At least there's that.

My Rules for Creation

This is a post inspired by Liz Worth's post on 'A Creative Manifesta'.

In 2009 when I visited my uncle in South Africa, he told me that you gain a clearer understanding of who you are when you write down the things you believe in. It was advice that stuck, and on the 22 hour return flight, I recorded the things I value most in life. The list has definitely formed a guideline on how I act ever since.

So I'm hoping that the things I list here will do the same from a creative point-of-view.


1. Let your intuition guide you, but depend on logic to set you on the right path.

2. Discover and explore the overarching psychological themes in your own life.

3. Keep an open mind to everything from silly YouTube videos to overheard conversations.

4. Value your dreams, they will help you solve creative problems if you ask them.

5. Give up on projects that bore you, and focus on those that give you energy.

6. Work hard!

7. Never let your mind idle too long, inertia will catch you.

8. Forget everything society tells you about genius being linked to crazy.

9. Make associations between unlikely things.

10. Believe in your projects, regardless of what others say.

11. Find a method that works for you and perfect it.

12. Go for walks when you feel stuck.