Autumn

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."- George Eliot

There is something rather magical about the changing of seasons. Perhaps it is only in my overly imaginative mind,but I could feel the change in the air this morning. The sky was a little bluer,the leaves slightly more yellow and wind just a tad chillier. While September 1 is greatly celebrated for the coming of Spring,I have always enjoyed the first day of Autumn more. Long fluffy socks,hot chocolate and woolly hats will soon be a part of our daily lives again.To honour this glorious occasion,I have changed my blogs background for a while. Autumn is on my list of 100 favourite things about being alive. It is just too lovely. happy Autumn Day :) :)

Identity

"Be yourself.Everyone else is already taken"-Oscar Wilde

I recently spent an unexpected three weeks working at a children's camp in Zinkwazi. During my stay at Sugar Bay I came face to face with the reality of identity. I had never given much thought to my name until it was taken away. When you enter the counselor's program,you are given a nickname and no one knows what your real name is. My given name was All Stars,because of the shoes I was wearing,but I got called Snow White,Rapunzel,Ballerina,Rookie and many more. By the second day,people started to notice that,unlike the majority,I did not grab my cigarettes during free time,but my Bible. I became known as The Christian. This sparked a great deal of thought. What makes us who we are?
Is it what we wear,the colour of our skin,the length of our hair,our hobbies,our level of experience or our beliefs?
I was named after each of these things but none of them ever seemed to capture all of ME. For a few moments I realized I did not know what makes me ME. Yes,I was the rookie in the group,but that wasn't all of me. Compared to the tanned Durbanites',my skin was snow white and my hair was by far the closest to Rapunzel's they had ever seen,but I am far more than my looks. Being called The Christian was meant as an offense,but I was quite happy with finding my identity in Christ. Still,I think we are all made up of layers. I am pale and skinny on the outside. On the inside I have a love for dancing and drawing and I am a little bit behind everyone else.  I like to write and take photos. On another level,some Eminem songs make me cry,I am obsessed with chinese babies and I love my little sister with all my heart. At the very core of me,I know that I am God's princess and I am captivated by His love for me. All of me is wrapped up into a small,sometimes sarcastic,sometimes annoying bundle of thoughts and ideas named Helen. My perception of all this is just as jumbled and unorganized as this post is. That is me. Oh well :)

Kevin Whataman

“Dying would be rather inconvenient at this moment in time”-Kevin Loubser the Great

One of the many doubts I have about owning a blog is whether anyone ever reads my posts. This doubt led me to a brief pause in literary excursions in the middle of last year. I was convinced that the only person who ever read anything was my 12 year old sister. While I love her dearly and hold her opinion of my writing far above anyone else,this fact did make my blog somewhat pointless,as I could e-mail her the content and save the trouble.

I was,however,wrong. A week or so after what I thought was my last post,one Kevin Loubser of Pinetown approached me and demanded an explanation on the absence of posts. I wrote one post,Tumbling Along, to appease him and thought that was that. But Kevin was relentless. I soon got back into writing,not only to make him happy but also because I had rediscovered the joys of creating with words. I will forever be grateful to this man. This blog post was not merely posted to thank him for his influence on my writing,but to wish him.

Today is Kevin’s birthday. The world has been graced with his marvelous presence for 23 years. This universe would be dull indeed without his amazingly unique sense of humour,his inconceivable intelligence and his unsurpassed knowledge of all things technological. Besides being,I like to think,my biggest fan and most avid reader,Kevin has extraordinary tastes in books,music and friends. He laughs at my jokes and makes endless comments on my caffeine intake. Yes,Kevin,I AM drinking a cup of coffee as i type these words.

Happy,happy birthday Kevin!!! To Kevin Loubser,ladies and gentlemen...what a man!

Dear Nobody, Letter #2

"It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.."-Leonard Cohen,Hallelujah

8 January 2010

Dear Nobody,

I have neglected you for quite some time  now. Not for lack of anything to say,but rather not knowing which snippet of information would interest you most. I am afraid the subject of this letter is rather melancholy. I am writing to you about tears,a kiss,a Bible verse and a very significant cup of tea.

My day yesterday started much like any other. The sun did indeed rise and the dew was chased away as it's golden fingers brushed the grass. This I did not witness my own eye,as that eye,and,incidentally,the other,were both very firmly shut when the sun made its glorious appearance. Several hours later,I graced the world with my own presence. I spent a few meaningless hours on the world wide web. I conversed quite pleasantly to a very dear uncle of mine who shares my,and indeed first ignited,my passion for photography and blogging. I enjoyed some Belgium chocolate and more than one mug of coffee. I swept the floor quite vigorously and had a cup of tea with an old friend. To me the day seemed rather pleasant. And yet,somewhere quite far away,two very close friends of mine were tearing out one another hearts. At least,this is what my brain immediately thought when I received a text message on my cellular mobile phone from The Girl,saying she had shared a kiss with The Guy.

Why,you might wonder,is this such a tragedy? My dearest Nobody,if you are indeed out there,they do not love one another. The Guy claims to love The Girl,but The Girl feels quite the opposite. She was,in fact,in his presence to tell him exactly why she did nit share his his overly stated sentiments when he decided to take upon himself the privilege of bestowing on her he first ever contact of this nature. She was distraught;he was ecstatic. He appears to share the opinion of Mr.Collins of old who stated upon the rejection his unwelcome offer of marriage to Elizabeth Bennet,``I am not now to learn that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.''

After several phone calls to both parties during which I both raged and cried,I finally departed to my bed. I was filled with such negativity against The Guy that I shook with what I thought was righteous anger. I couldn't believe he had acted so thoughtlessly and was able to retell the tale with not a hint of regret. I opened my Bible to page where the frayed red ribbon rested against the worn pages. The very first line stopped me cold and doused out the fires of anger in an instant.

"Do not judge" the pages told me,"or you too will be judged." "You hypocrite!"my Bible told me. That I am. How often do we tear one another apart,accusing others of the very thing we ourselves are guilty of? Mere minutes earlier I had accused a very dear friend of not thinking before he acted and completely disregarded the feelings of another. Yet I myself do this several times a week,no,even several times a day,and still I enter a peaceful sleep each night with no feelings of regret or discomfort. Oh we are so disgustingly human. More than a few salty drops escaped from my eyes. There are times when I so badly wish I was not a part of this world. How pleasant and sweet I'd be if I lived alone on some mountaintop and never came into contact with another human being. In case you may have missed it,this,oh nobody,is what made my day taste of cold melancholia.

After my tears I made a cup of tea. This was no ordinary cup of tea. This was a cup of tea that could be served to the Queen of England,Tim Burton,my mother and other such exalted individuals. For this cup of tea,unlike the thousands before,was not made by a girl who would go about life just as before. No,this cup of tea was made by a girl who was moving on from her shame. As I drank that very cup of tea,I thought to myself,hallelujah. Not a loud,joyful hallelujah that would be found in a movie like The Apostle. Not the soulful hallelujah that worship leaders make into a ten syllable word. It was,as Leonard Cohen says,a cold and broken hallelujah. It was a hallelujah thanking my Dad in heaven,not for something wonderful that had occurred,but for something wonderful I know He will make occur in me.

So here we are. A girl filled with confused emotion,mourning the loss of something she can never get back. A boy in denial of the tragic reality of unrequited love. And yours truly,humbled by the realization of my own frailties,comforted by the knowledge that I will not face them alone. Where are you,dear Nobody? Because we are here. Hallelujah.

Micky G

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”-Piglet,Winnie-the-Pooh

A Somewhat Blurry Photo

Some people become your friend by default. Some people become your friend by chance. Then there are some who bash their way into your life,invade your personal space and declare their undying friendship whether you want it or not. Michaela Gonneau is one such friend.

Upon meeting her,I decided within moments to never be her friend. I later found out that she felt the exact same way. Yet somehow,something in both of us changed and she became annoyingly persistent,asking me all manner of questions with no reserve.

"I'm sexy and I know it.."

During the past six months,Micky G has become one of my very best friends. We have laughed together,cried together,fought over stupid little things and had some of the best times ever.
While I never really thanked her for all she did for me,I will forever be grateful for the role she played in my life during 2011.

Mics and Her Brother

Dearest Mics,I love you so darn much!! Thank you for the late night chats at Pav over KFC milkshakes. Thank you for listening to my stupid complaints and letting me in to a little piece of your heart. Thank you for being my home group buddy (who else would change in the car on Florida Road?). Thank you for sharing all those silly little moments at Wakaberry,the beach,squished in a corner at Jurie's house and sitting on your massive beds. Every moment was special and I'll never forget them. You are a beautiful,brave,amazing and so so special to me. Love you forever,even though you made leaving so hard.

One of My Favourite Faces :)

My Mojo

"She lived her life with exclamation marks."-JJ,Close Your Eyes and Laugh

Chilling in the Garden

While many may argue that I my opinion is biased,I am absolutely certain that I have the very best little sister in the entire world. It is a fact. Born on the 16th of May 1999, Zoe Jennifer Dean has filled the past 12 years of my life with inexplicable joy and laughter. Even though there are days I would gladly lock her out the house,I love her intensely. She has,in my year-long absence,grown into a young woman,but she will always be my baby sister.

Blowing Bubbles

Zoe's favourite colour is blue,she plays the piano and she doesn't eat left-overs. She is madly in love with Elvis and sings along with Taylor Swift. Zoe's favourite place to go with me is an old,rundown,trash filled park up the road from our house. She paints her toenails blue and reads books that I struggle to understand. My lovely sister dances like a star in Ballet,Hip-hop and Indian dancing. Even though it takes some convincing,she makes me at least four cups of tea in a day.

At the Park

For reasons beyond my comprehension,Zoe claims that I am her role model and always joins me in journalling,Bible reading and,recently,blogging. She likes blowing bubbles nearly as much as she loves her cat,Bubbles. While the name Zoe,which means life,fits her perfectly,she more often  goes by nicknames like Zonie,Mojo Zozo,Zobot,Zwitchie and many more.

Darling sister,beautiful girl,I love you with my whole entire heart. My world will be so lifeless when you leave me in four week's time to brave the Canadian winter. Here's to staying up till 4am,reading and journalling,dancing in the kitchen,secrets on the swing,Owl City,photoshoots at the park and endless cups of tea. 1-4-3 Zobie-wan-kenobie,forever and always.

Beautiful Girl

Stretch Them Cheeks!

"If it's cold outside,show the world the warmth of your smile"-Rascal Flatts

Smiling takes 17 muscles. While many people these days seem opposed to working those muscles,I have managed to capture a few faces that have mastered this form of exercise. Give your face a workout and stretch them cheeks!

Cathryn Moodley

Hayden Brown

Roanne Moodley

Matthew Palath

Benaiah King