Artwork

My first visit to Namibia was 12 years ago. I had had a series of unsatisfactory relationships and decided to 'escape' for a while. Travelling on the roof of a truck from Victoria Falls into Northern Namibia felt like a good plan. At top speed, with hair and camera flaying in the wind and a big smile, I was happy to be free for a while. I had always been drawn to the pictures of the large, Namibian skies and so was full of expectation.

'Everything will come out in the wash darling,' my mother told me...


Spending time in Namibia this time around, my mind replayed snapshots from my last visit.

On reflection, many things had changed...

Instead of going for the adrenaline sports for which Namibia is so well known, like sandboarding ("If you've got the need for speed - we've got the natural drug"), I now preferred to float around in a hot air balloon or go for a slow walk. A yoga mat replaced a camping mat on the side of my rucsac.

Instead of spending nights in the vibey Swakopmund bars, consuming more than my fare share of alcohol, I was happy relaxing around the safari lodges; talking with the other guests, reading, listening to music, writing, mucking about with my camera. This is just age you might say, but no, it was more than that...


Certain things, of course, remained constant..

On both trips I had a camera glued to my eye. I still loved to sit alone watching the animals trundle up to the waterholes to drink.


And I still loved to be away from the crowds at sunset, up a hill perhaps or sitting on a log next to a river.

My reading material was also interchangeable.

In the '90's I was reading Karl Maier's 'Into the House of the Ancestors,' a brilliantly refreshing take on an African Continent crying out for a 'new' Africa to evolve in the hearts of the indigenous people, free from the strong conditioning produced by colonial rule. This year I had my nose, second time around, in a George Allagiah book, 'A Passage to Africa'. Another quirkey and modern take on the continent seen through the eyes of this respected BBC foreign correspondant.


With technological changes, instead of the modern day blog (with twitter, even blog is old news!) I had a scrap book, still full of quotes, scribbles and inspiration, drawn from my surroundings as I saw them. The difference was that much of it remained uncommunicated. Metaphorically I felt bound and gagged.

Another thing that didn't appeared to have changed much was my taste in artwork.

I still loved the simple but striking hand painted woodcuts of Susan Mitchinson. I was amazed to see how her work had gained in prominence both in Namibia and throughout Africa.

In '97 I was attracted to DREAMS because of the stillness the couple seemed to be experiencing in their embrace. It looked natural and relaxing.


This time around I bought home LOOK AT ME. I liked the girl's slightly jaunty stance. Susan has managed to convey a confidence and freedom to me by just a few, simple shapes cut into a piece of wood.


What this passing of time shows me is that we experience the world as an external reflection of internal reality. In other words, we create the world in which we live. I'm always being told 'the world doesn't exist, it's just you here.' Maybe the truth of this is sinking in?

On the one level, I hadn't really changed at all, what was there was just partially obsured from my view for a while. That veil of maya cloaking the soul, those clouds in front of the blue sky....


On another level, how I am experiencing myself now is completely different. I can rely on a stronger connection to who I am. There was more of 'me' in this Namibia which passed across my screen this time around.

Reminiscing like this and posing myself the question 'is internal change really possible?' reminds me of the biblical quotation from Ecclesiastes 3:1..

"To everything there is a season......and a time to every purpose under the heaven."

Dark times/low points can serve as a wake up call, if we make use of them.

My mother was right, it did 'all come out in the wash'.....