Category: Category 1, My Blog

It’s raining and I am in bed wondering what books to read this weekend and what to wear for filming tomorrow.

So here’s some fun or not so funny random stuff.

All the men I enjoyed living with were gay. I wish I could marry them all. And most of them think I need a sturdy wife kinda person at my side. Haha. I think that what they really mean is I need an anchor, someone who is strong in mind and practical.

I take my dreams and those of people in my life  very seriously. The irony is I steer clear from men who say they dreamed about me, especially if I don’t like them as much.

A while back a friend who is very psychic slept over. I dreamt of someone I rather liked that night. Upon waking he says to me, ‘I saw Jeremy walking through the house to your room last night..’ This before I told him about my dream. Ps, there is no Jeremy I know of in my life.

My daughter has more planets in Aries than in Pisces. She is a shit stirrer of note. I have a few of them in my life, Aries that is. They test my patience to the max and all I do is wait until they have done some stupid thing and ask me how to smooth over ruffled feathers. Impulsive, selfish, rude…but also unafraid, confident and deeply loyal if they feel safe enough. ‘Really, you did what?’ is what I ask them most of the time.

Having sex with a Leo is great. They always mean to impress and deliver the good. That’s about it.  That’s why the only Leo’s I have are female and gay. But straight Leo’s are just trouble and so damn needy.

My inner life annoys me at times. Just when I think I forgotten and put that one single person behind me….I dream. You know that great moment when you forgot what their laughter sounds like? Then Boom! I dream and can hear it so clearly, see his animated eyebrows jump and now I have to work extra harder to forget.

Rain days are soup days. That was the rule and Daddy made the soup. Growing up my father cooked. And the kindest gesture was when all my favorites were cooked while I was having a bad day. I burst into tears. That was an act of such kindness and love.

Places I want to visit. Istanbul. Berlin. Sahara desert. Morocco. Mali. Italy. Tibet. Hawaii. Vienna. Catacombs in Paris. Vermont. Thanks to an Andre Brink book (Looking on Darkness)…I wanna make sweet love in a river boat in Amsterdam! Every other place will be a surprise.

I want to sing with a orchestra, full choir, brass section and a DJ on one stage. An entire performance. Not just one of my songs and a lot of shitty covers. All the music played is mine. Now what if that could be done under the open electric skies of the Northern lights? Mind. Blown.

Something to experience. An entire room wired for sound. Even the bed I sleep on. Now imagine making love on such a bed! In fact one of the most amazing  experiences I had was where both of us were so in synch with the music played and each other. It enhanced the intimacy. That was special indeed.

In my ideal home there should be a library room, a prayer room (that feels like a sacred cave) and a studio. Oh and a big tree outside. Each room will be named after a book, musician or a historical figure. And fairy lights…I want those in the garden.

An entire cupboard filled with beanies and hats. And colorful socks. That’s happiness right there.

Best gift given? A spray painted notebook and Ben Harper’s live dvd with the Blind Boys of Alabama and shirt.

I wanna base jump and drive hella fast on the autobaan.

Strangest thing ever said to me ( or should I say the thing that caught me off guard) ‘I bet you know that you are a Muse to many…’ as they played music written for me.

I loved it when my Mother showed me love letters my father wrote to her. Or the letter Doug wrote to Gilda. She showed it to me after he passed.

Beautiful crockery makes food taste better. I love pretty cups. Gilda knows this, so gives me so much stuff. ‘This is for when you get married..’ But what I really loved are the scans of a brain. Those will go in my studio, backlit.

The most special moments I shared with anyone I care for was when we were silent together.

Music is always played when cooking and driving. I remember telling my ex husband ( years before when we were still happy), ‘I will divorce you if you have terrible taste in music…’ By the end he was listening to the shittiest if music. Haha. And still when we hang out he will play music we liked. Music my daughter has grown to love. Mostly it’s hip hop.

Cool moment. I was in a bus driving home with a group of the noisiest women ever. I was just about to complain when they started singing. They were a choir and the sound was so overwhelming. All was forgiven.

This happens a lot in South Africa. When on the international cultural exchange with Zambia and France we were known for our ability to harmonize. It was beautiful….but I knew then…my voice is not meant to fade into others but stand out. Alone. To be heard. Still, I loved being part of a group on a snowy mountains top in France and seeing all the foreigners overwhelmed by what our voices could do when together. That was a good memory and I was happy then.

A movie I enjoy watching when I have a bad day. Inception. Moulin Rouge ( I love the way he looks at her, so in love),  and Dracula with Keanu Reeves. I usually fall asleep to it. When sad I can’t listen music. It makes everything worse. I write sad music when I am at my happiest. The only exception was In My Lover’s Bed.

I love a good lamb curry. And fried foods when I have a hangover. Noel’s family made me appreciate chicken livers. It’s a favorite. I ate…zebra and crocodile years ago when married. Dude took us to a restaurant called Cannibal. So many Chinese people were there. I know, I know… but I was a lot less aware then.

Enough. I have things to do. And a friend to take to my barber in the township. Wonder if dude knows he has to wait sometimes close to an hour…but it is not only worthwhile but also cheap. Godz, I was so upset when I went to a barber run by a white lady and asked her to clean up the shaved part of my hair. She said she couldn’t and I remember thinking…so what the hell are you doing calling yourself a barber? And what are these men doing here eh? That’s when I discovered Paul and his wife. Problem solved.

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