I am a ghostwriter, my own ghostwriter. So while this blog is indeed mine, it is that of the shadowed selves i sometimes fail to recognise as being me. If writing writes you, sometimes revealing those things that you hadn't intended for it to say,* then I write with the intention of exposing me to myself. sketching serendipity therefore depicts a series of thoughts and experiences in the hope of projecting a multidimensional self-portrait in the making.

* J.M Coetzee's theories on writing in Doubling The Point.

Showing posts with label Cape Town. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cape Town. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 12, 2012


INSPIRATIONS FROM THE HE(ART) OF EL SEED

I once speculated the return of an art renaissance, reminiscent of 18th century France which bore art as a defiant discourse in the face of political power. Little did I expect that it would soon surface with as much gusto on my own continent. Further up north, amid the revolutions that sparked across the Islamic world, Tunisian artists wrestled for rights to freedom of speech through art, which had long been suppressed under ex-president Ben Ali. Refusing to submit to his dictatorship, they took to the streets to exhibit and craft their art on municipal buildings and walls, as a way of reclaiming ownership of the public domain. It was the penultimate expression of democratic freedom.

While art boundaries were flouted in the north, they were yet to be addressed in the south, where the ban on public graffiti had not been lifted.  On a recent visit to Cape Town the acclaimed Tunisian-Parisian graffiti artist, El Seed, addressed the issue of art, politics and freedom in South Africa. “We are not respected,” he said, saying that artists are neither acknowledged as professionals, nor as contributing members of society. And the graffiti ban is sufficient proof of this fact, failing to distinguish between aesthetics and vandalism.

Critiquing local art, El Seed said that he would have preferred to see graffiti written in an African language. He believes that artists needed to “break the hegemonic trends in art and express their culture”. El Seed’s own work embraces his linguistic roots, by combining Arabic calligraphy and graffiti. Hence it is called ‘calligraffiti’. He also incorporates ancient art into modern art forms, resulting in a hip-hop street style with a rather delightful Middle-Eastern twist. Unlike other artists, he chooses not to sign his name on any of his work. “It is not important,” he claims. “If you think about the seven Mu’allaqaat (acclaimed ancient Arabic poetry), people do not remember the names of the poets. All that remains is the message of the poets, and that is what I would like to leave behind.” His own messages vary, communicating ideas about education, politics, or love. “It’s all about the context,” he says, having exposed students from underprivileged areas in Cape Town how to harness their art skills and leave behind awe-inspiring messages such as ‘Read and Elevate Yourself’, and ‘It always seems impossible until it’s done.’ Undoubtedly, his work attests to the fact that street art can be wielded as an intellectually stimulating tool with transformative power.


Art can sway politics. And South Africa, who has the art of photography to thank for awakening the world to its plight during Apartheid, should know this best. Rather than condemning its use, politicians should use the medium as a tool to reach the youth, otherwise face the consequence of perpetual anarchic expression painted onto the very places they wish to protect.




 Below:"Read to Elevate Yourself" is a collaborative work of   local high school students.
 Left: "It always seems impossible until it's done" 









*Photography: Riz.B Photography

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Wanted: a freckled Sunday-koeksister


I woke up this morning with the need to sink my teeth into the puff dough of a love-baked koeksister, syruped to perfection. It's the Cape tradition: Sunday Breakfasts begin with the coconut-sprinkled morning desert,  which is good enough whether homebaked or bought, served best nonetheless in a 2:1 ratio with a great cup of tea :)
I'm not sure of the history behind the Sunday-breakfast, although  a treasure hunt for the first-ever spicy koeksister recipe sounds like stomach-rewarding fun. Bo Kaap museum might provide a starting point... But we're drifting from the sore point: I didn't get to eat my Sunday koeksister! Bereft of the honour, my teeth are now going to bed unsatisfied. A great need for the sweet had me baking waffles in a snackwich-maker this evening instead... which, without the orange peel and aniseed ingredients, and buttery cinnamon-cardomon sugar syrup cannot ever compare (much less satisfy my insatiable need). With 50 minutes until midnight, and droopy eye-lids closing in on a dream, there's no way that i'm about to leave bed for a trial-run in the kitchen. But, in order to keep up the proud culture of Koeksister Sundays, I am doing my patriotic duty at least - by hoping that fairies will bring them to me in my sleep.

Sweet Dreams

راوية