Ode to all of the things I did not want to see

We sometimes have the tendency to store the stuff we don't want to
deal with in the back of the closet. We close our eyes to them and label
them as being too painful, too embarrassing, they just don't fit in with
our ideal of what the 'perfect me' should look like.

I spent most of this year venturing forth into the proverbial, belly of
the beast. Or what I previously thought of as my 'dark side'. And what
I discovered there at the back of the closet was that was that many of
them weren't demons at all, but beautiful undiscovered and disowned
parts of myself. These are the really 'juicy' bits of our personality, so we
might as well polish them up and put them on display.

This painting is a little tribute to my journey this past year.

meet big mama

Well folks, this here is Big Mama. She is the latest addition to
my camera collection and also my first proper digital SLR, the
Canon 40D! Very exciting.

I have a feeling her and I will be embarking on lots of grand
adventures together.
:)

reading the instructions is sometimes helpful

I have one of those inflatable mattresses, which come in really
handy when one has guests over and you run out of beds.
Naturally, if one has an inflatable mattress, so one should also
have the little electrical pump to go with it.

This pump can be plugged into your wall socket at home or when
you go campingit can be plugged into the car's lighter outlet.

The first couple of times I had plugged the pump into the wall
socket and I inflated the queen-size mattress with the pump, it
worked just fine. But then when I hauled it out again, it suddenly
started running out of air. Having only my limited knowledge of
electronic devices to fall back on, I assumed that just like a
hairdryer, the motor had burnt out.

I decided that I would simply go and buy another pump and
then take the older one back in it's place to get a refund, because
at this point in time, I had long since thrown away the receipt.
Sometimes one just needs to be a little resourceful. Or so
I thought.

Only thing was that when I tried to use the new pump, it inflated
the mattress halfway and then started to make the suspiciously
familiar noise which I by now equated with the motor burning out.
How was this possible? I was fuming and my friend had to sleep on
the couch for the weekend, because I sure as hell wasn't going to
buy a third pump.

Taking stock, I now had two useless pumps, one receipt and in
between buying the two, their packaging had also changed which
would probably make it harder to explain to the store that they were
both actually virtually brand-new.

Nonetheless, I put both in the boot of my car, with the solid intention
of going back to the store and lecturing them on keeping a better brand
of inflatable mattress pump.

Looking back, that was a year ago. In the meantime, the pumps
had ended up back in my room, in the back of my closet and lay
there forgotten.

This past weekend, I was clearing out some of my closets, getting rid
of things, when none other than the two pumps surface again.

A little voice in the back of my head said that I should really give
them one more try, before relegating them to the recycling bin.
I plugged each one in and turned them on. The first one, nothing.
The second one, gave a sigh like a tired old car that was on its last wheels.

In a fit of frustration, I pulled out the little multi-lingual instruction
manual. And there in plain Oxford English at the very top of the
list under the heading of INSTRUCTIONS it states: 'Pump must be
charged before use and is not designed for inflation directly from
household AC power sources.'

Right. Well that would pretty much explain everything. I left those
little suckers to charge for 10 hours and sure enough, when I
unplugged them and flipped the switch, the high whining noise
emanating from those black pumps would have put any respectable
vacuum cleaner to shame.

Needless to say I am now the very proud owner of two inflatable
mattress pumps in perfect working order. Any takers?

forthcoming attractions

A few weeks ago, I was chatting to my super-inspirational friend,
Rita Dhankani, and I mentioned that I wanted to do an exhibition and
if she would interested in joining me.

Next thing I know, we have together a group of 8 designers
(from various backgrounds) and we are se-ri-ous-ly going to launch
an exhibition!

How exciting is this!?

Right. So all we have to do now is sort out all the little details,
such as gallery space, group name, theme, etc. Oh yeah, and produce
the actual pieces.

Watch this space for a Designers' Art Exhibtion coming to a town near you!
:)

!Hola! Yo soy Lezanne

My good friend Liezel, made a list a few years ago, called
'40 things to do before I turn 40'. I thought that this was an
excellent idea and started making my very own list. Only thing
is, my list is still incomplete as of now. Perhaps 'Completing
my list of 40 things' should be ON the actual list.

I digress.

So right at Number 3 on my list it says: 'Learn to speak Spanish
like a Spaniard'.

Which is why I recently enrolled myself for a Spanish Language
Course through Berlitz here in Dubai.

During the first 5 minutes of our very first lesson, our Mexican
teacher, Ana Maria, told us in English that this would in fact be
the last English we would be speaking for the duration of our
course. See, Berlitz is based on a learning system of total
immersion in the language.

And that's exactly what it has felt like. As if someone has
dropped me into the deep end of this wondrous ocean filled
with Spanish words. Suddenly I have to make room for and
wrap my tongue around all these beautifully sonorous words.

And even though I'm just treading water at the moment
to stay afloat, I can just feel that in time I will become a
champion swimmer! Move over Penny Heyns, there's a new
kid in town.

on leaving one's mark

A few weekends ago, I attended part of a yoga workshop given by
Jeff Phenix. On the second day of the workshop, we were doing a preparatory pose for scorpion. We had to clasp our hands in front of us on our yoga mats and then kick our legs over so that our feet would touch the wall. You could then walk your feet down the wall and perhaps take one foot away from the wall at a time. In other words, slowly working towards coming into the full scorpion posture, eventually.

I was a bit overzealous and kicked over, feet missing the wall completely and instead flipped straight into Chakrasana or wheel pose. However, there was a very loud CRASH as both my knees made contact with the wall as I came down. I rolled away from the wall, and Shock! Horror! realised that my left knee had gone straight through the drywall.
Talk about leaving one's mark!

Jeff Phenix thought it was super-funny and kept sniggering about it throughout the rest of the session. (And to be honest, it was pretty hilarious.) I think the other yoga students were either in shock or awe. Couldn't quite tell from their expressions.

All I can say is don't try this at home folks. Or if you do, make sure your legs are long enough to reach the wall.

And yes, I'm ok, apart from a few bruises to the knees and ego.
Thanks for asking.

reversal of seasons

Things work a little bit differently here in the Middle East,
and that goes even for the seasons.

For instance, everywhere else across the Northern Hemisphere,
people are rejoicing because summer has finally come. They
go to the park or beach during the weekend and pretty much
try to spend every waking moment outside, just soaking up the
summer sun.

Over here, the modus operandi is as follows:
You do not, under any circumstances go outside in the summer
time. If you have to leave the air-conditioned house, office or
shopping mall you do so entirely at your own peril. With the
mercury pushing the early 50's and the humidity at at least
60 or 70%, you can understand why people seem to 'hibernate'
here during the summer months.

The sensation of going outside is very similar to repeatedly
opening the door of a very hot walk-in oven.

The added bonus of course, of spending all of the summer
months indoors, is that you end up sniffling and wheezing
through a bout of flu. And the mere idea of 'wrapping up
warmly' and snuggling down is suddenly not so appealing.

As for me, I'll just be staying at home for now, nursing my flu.
I'll tell you one thing though, I can't wait for winter to arrive,
so I can go to the beach!

improve your vocabulary & end world hunger

I came across this great site today. You play a game where
you test your vocabulary and for each correct word,
you donate 20 grains of rice through the UN World Food
Program to help end hunger.

What a fantastic idea! Which just goes to show once again
that it pays to improve your word power.

anything but lonely in istanbul

I arrived in Istanbul very early on Thursday morning. Driving
into the city, the day's first call to prayer rang out into the crisp air
from various mosques on the way to my hotel.

It was certainly a jam-packed four days, and I found that it is virtually
impossible to try and get some 'alone-time' in this ancient city. If it's
not the waiter offering to 'show' you around the city after his shift ends
(at 1 am, I might add!), it's an old man trying his luck by giving you a
free tour of the Hagia Sofia, of which he had been the manager for
some 28 years odd. That little incident ended with me jumping into
a taxi with my luggage, a-la-movie-scene-getaway-style, and telling
the taxi driver to 'Go! Go! Go!' Turns out the old man's daughter just
happened to own the travel agency right next door to the hotel I was
staying at for 1 out of the 4 days of my trip.

By day three, I even had a guy who wanted to give me a carpet as
a gift, which I politely, but firmly refused. I'm guessing that In Africa,
that would be the equivalent of the groom's family negotiating
'lobola' or dowry, which is measured in cattle.

If you'd ever like to experience having so many men approach you
that you feel like you're swatting away flies, then I invite you to visit
Istanbul. After a few days, one does grow weary though of hearing
'Where are you from?' or 'Come inside, I'd like to show you something'.

That aside, the history and culture is truly astounding. Just about
everybody who was somebody has passed through this city, always
trying to conquer it.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of all the sights and sounds.
I even ended up dancing in a local neighbourhood street to some great
traditional music and managed to spend some time with my dear friend,
Rowena from London.

Those that know me, will tell you that I am indeed trigger-happy,
and I took over a thousand pictures in these four days.
That's a new record, even by my standards!

I arrived back in Dubai this morning and it's always a bit of a rude
awakening as to how quickly one is thrust back into the same
old routine. The weekend already feels like a dream, fleeting and
hard to imagine that I was really in another country just a few hours ago.

Thank you for the music

I believe that books and songs and friends carry us through
the rough patches in life. Alanis Morissette in particular has
been my saviour at times. If my iPod could wear thin in the places
where I have listened to her amazing words over and over again,
it would have. I love her new album and this song resonates with
me in particular.

Incomplete

One day I'll find relief
I'll be arrived
And I'll be friend to my friends who know how to be friends
One day I'll be at peace
I'll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt
One day I will be healed
I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

One day my mind will retreat
And I'll know God
And I'll be constantly one with her night dusk and day
One day I'll be secure
Like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

Ever unfolding
Ever expanding
Ever adventurous
And torturous
And never done

One day I will speak freely
I'll be less afraid
And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art
One day I will be faith-filled
I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and home

I have been running so sweaty my whole life
Urgent for a finish line
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

on the wrong side of the law?

Yes. this is one of those things which will happen to me at 5 am
on a Monday morning.

Picture it.
Me, en-route to the airport to fetch my mother. I'd woken
up only half hour earlier, so I look like hell.

Suddenly I see the flash of blue lights behind my car. I pull over.
A guy that I can only accurately guess at around 12 years of age
says: 'License, registrrrration.'

I frantically start shaking out all the plastic cards in my wallet.
Then he makes me follow him to a quieter part of the road. Read:
deserted. His police buddy now stumbles out of the car. He has
clearly just woken up.

I finally locate the damn licence with the bad picture and hand it
over. Then the questions start. Where you going? Where you live?
Where you work? You have businesscard? As I dutifully hand over
my business card, the next question makes me see the light.

'You marrrried?'
Ah. I see. I am being hit on by a friggin' 12-year old policeman
at 5 o'clock in the morning.

Then the ridiculous 'Why your car dirty?' Er, that would perhaps
be because we live in the bloody desert with at least one sandstorm
a day during the summer.

'I call you tomorrrrow, I wash your car.'
Me thinking: WHAT THE HELL?

At this point, I'm seriously starting to lose my patience with the law.
My mother's flight has now already landed. He finally hands me back
my license and registration, but not my business card.

Subsequently, the juvenile policeman has now been phoning me
every day since Monday. I have yet to pick up the call. I mean what do
I say: 'If you call me again, I'm phoning the police?'

no 'BLEEP' in this city

Yes, everyone is raving about the much awaited 'BLEEP and
the City: The Movie'. Everyone, that is, except us.

Fortunately the good residents of the UAE will not be exposed
to such filth, since the dreaded word: S E X, is mentioned in the
very title of this movie. Shock! Horror! This simply will not do!

It is after all against the law of this country to have relations outside
of wedlock.

This would be the reason why there are so many gunshot weddings
amongst the expats. A woman will be deported if she is pregnant
and unmarried.

Clearly nobody here believes in the old 'immaculate conception' story.
Sorry for us.

I guess I will now be forced to travel to a more sinful country in order
to compromise my morals and watch this movie.

And so I came to Dubai to become a...

yogini?

Aristotle said, 'Those that know, do. Those that understand, teach'.

I guess I've really never even had it in my grand scheme of things to
become a yoga teacher. It's just kind of happened. Well, having said
that, I'm really only one fith of the way there, after having completed
40 hours of teacher's training with Caroline Klebl last week.

It's kind of amazing to watch how life unfolds, if you're just willing to
let it. One moment you feel like you've lost your way in the most absurd,
materialistic desert city in the world, and in the next you're suddenly
heading exactly where you were always meant to be going. Only you
never knew that yourself before.

I know, I KNOW what you're thinking. But to me it all makes perfect
sense to me now in an Alice in Wonderland kind of way.

Curiouser and curiouser!

the next best thing

When I saw this 'Organic Hemp Plus Brownie Mix' - I did a double take
and promtly dropped a packet into my trolley. Then I remembered that
I am in the UA of E and not in Amsterdam. I'm thinking this is probably the
closest one will come to the baking of space cakes in this country.

I guess even if it just gives me a cheap thrill on the eve of my birthday,
well then dammit, that's still worth something, right?

Here's to having high expectations for a great 2008!

things we released to the fire

I recently felt the need to hold a release ceremony. I had visions
of burning things on my balcony and subsequently setting off
the fire alarm in the apartment. Or perhaps setting the whole
building on fire. One never can tell just in which way these things
will unfold.

I enlisted the support of three willing friends and it was agreed
that we would go out into the desert with the next full moon and
even camp out there for the night.

It turned out to be a truly liberating experience. Each of us had written
down the things which we wanted to let go of on a piece of paper.
We took turns throwing it into the fire and releasing whatever it was
we felt no longer served us in our lives, be it old relationships,
ideas or habits.

We then proceeded to crack open the Bailey's irish cream. Releasing is
thirsty work, you know.

The next morning, I had a a bit of a hangover, but overall there was a
feeling of lightness. The heavy feeling which had hounded me and sat
squarely on my heart for years, had finally gone up in smoke.

As one of my favourite Capetonian yoga teachers, Henry, used to say in
his inimitable way, 'let go yourself, let loose yourself'.

And in a weird way, I think I finally get what he was trying to tell us.

My super-amazing, totally fantastic powers of observation

I have to boldly admit to living in dubai in this very apartment for
almost a year and a half, before a friend told me that our mutual
friend, Zigi's face was plastered all over the side of sheikh zayed road.

I almost rolled my car when i saw for myself that I'd been living
right on top of my friend's head for well over a year and was
blissfully unaware.

Here's proof at last that graphic designers are fantastic at paying
attention to detail.

I rest my case.

lover's paradise?

I recently took a trip to the Maldives with my good friend, Dave.
An idyllic setting. Palm trees gently swaying in the breeze, pristine
white beaches, water an impossibly aquamarine colour. Well you
get the picture. Exactly like a postcard.

Just one little problem. We were surrounded at any one time, by dozens
of couples lovingly staring into each other's eyes and whispering
sweet nothings. At one point, we turned to each and said almost in
unison, 'Sheesh, do you feel SINGLE?'

One guidebook described it so aptly; they said that going to the
Maldives when you're single, is like being all alone on Valentines Day.
Indeed.

Aside from that, we simply had a lovely time, with none of the staring
and none of the whispering and sipping at just enough of the overpriced
happy hour cocktails to take the edge off.

Apparently the island for single people is still being built. Go figure.
And with the prediction that by the year 2020, the Maldives would have
disappeared because of the rising water levels, there isn't much time left
to go to the Maldives and not feel like a social outcast.

Right ho! Next destination please.