the circularity of blood and dust

Writing is farcical, if it is not able to create a shift in some way. It must, in some small way, undo the latch to the dusty box that is our potential, and reveal the raw material inside that seeks to become something majestic, at least.

Writing, just like anything else that we might do, is undue banter and rather superficial, if it is not accompanied by a whole range of purposeful conditions. Or at least, just one. A purpose. A need to adjust the everyday meander, dissolve the self-doubts and dissipate the fears of failing and of succeeding all at once. Writing is and must. Writing with a sense that something more must come of it. It must be loaded with that intention to do and be for the greater good; even if the path getting there is strewn with thorns. Writing is a vehicle and a weapon, a building and a bridge. Each might be used or abused; the action is fueled by the intent.

Writing, if you really think about it, is an act of worship.
It is a show of love. And a way to bribe the creative soul into production.
Writing is also a show of hate. A means to burn and destroy the wasteland of minds that prefer the route of the blissfully ignorant. It purges these, tearing unused sinews apart, washes away the rust and then forces the flow of new contemplation into the midst of these healing recesses.

Tedious tasks done, writing is the balm. The disease and the cure.
The bitterness and the sweet are found to be one.
Love is, life is, being is.
Bitter. Sweet. Bittersweet...
Living is.
Dieing is.
Bittersweet.
Living-Dieing.
Circularity breathes reason into being.
Writing gives it form.
The vehicle moves onward, transporting thought from one to another. Me to you.
A building of ideology soars skyward.
Glass shatters at a crazy altitude.
Someone slips.
Someone falls.
A grey suit hits concrete pavements of unreason; it bears the mark of the martyr. Red becomes brown.
Brown is earth.
Like ashes to ashes; like dust to dust.

Living is dieing
Dieing is living
Writing is Living-Dieing
Reviving the dust, the ashes, the blood and the being.
Re-creating, moving, becoming, seeing.

"Keep breathing. Everything else is a bonus."


Copyright 2009 Shafinaaz Hassim

a river runs through...

I am chatting to a writer buddy; and we're discussing love, life and relationships; toothpasty* kinda talk... nothing unique or unheard of, but forever enticing of reflection.

And so I said something and the advice was: 'Don't Change. Stay who you are.'

Aah. Words are strange things. Acknowledgment from friends means so much of course; but let's be totally honest: Change is inevitable. Sometimes fundamental things change, and other times its little nuances that may not show.

Life moves through us, and changes us... Just like a river moves by banks and towns, replenishing and feeding; bringing along with the tide, it's flood of enthusiasm and sometimes leaving destruction in it's wake.

I wonder, if we had to map out a canvas of these changes... what on earth would it look like?

Will it be filled with colour, streaks running down in the dance with gravity's pull? Or will it be adorned with something natural, wholesome and felt; textured by the seasons, tarnished by the rust and glowing with days of eternal sunshine? If I had to paint one for every person that I have met in my life, I imagine filling hallways with amazing design; some gregarious and dark, other's awash with soulful inspirations. Wind chimes would signal laughter and drumbeats for passion, love and sadness; fear, malice and anger would flow as the bark used on railway sleepers, and joy would appear as mirrors reflecting the eyes of all who hold them close.

Joy is as it does. In all of us. A whole new world exists, just by thinking about making something that reminds me of everyone I have encountered on my path; everyone who has made an undeniable impact on being who I am. On the evolution of who I am at this moment. Evolutionary relationships are the basis of all we do, and all that makes us; A blog I enjoy reading by Azra also discusses this most beautifully in a recent post.

It's inevitable that some will be immortalised in the words I write; while other's will find their way into the light through the colours that my eye picks out. A river runs through me; every day I am replenished, destroyed, and filled to overflowing again. Words are strange things indeed.

So. What will your change canvas look like?

Shafs


*word and concept, courtesy lady h as added to discussion about my toothpaste theory; and her toothpasty chats with the Guy.

Good News and Bad News...

Good news is always welcome.

I believe that.

Especially since a lot of negative words get thrown about and rages flying from people you probably won't remember in two years time can cause unnecessary grief. And then there were those 'venom-spitting turds' who called themselves anon. Aaaarghhhh. I mean...who needs someone else's hot potato in their laps, right? Especially when things you say get twisted by ego's only ready for a jol.

What happens when their thirsts are quenched? Will they see the light, or will they continue to delude themselves for a lifetime? I guess everyone gets what they deserve, me included :) Alhamdulillah.

Ok.. First the bad news. I am in an excruciating amount of pain today. This all due to some painkillers wearing off and an hour of dental drilling into the recesses of my one measly tooth. It used to live quite peacefully at the back of my mouth until that dreaded day. A cavity. My dentist says its due to those braces I had when I was 13. Today's braces don't do that, she says. Right. Back then it was the coolest thing to sort out twisty teeth; accept for the fact that I couldn't chew gum or eat 'jawbreakers' (remember those hot spicey red ones??!!) or that I couldn't eat those lollypops with the gooey centre.

Back to the present; this all a load of drama to bring me to my proverbial knees. Actually, I am sitting on my knees as I type this! (I use one of these posture accurate typist chairs that has a rest for knees and butt. It's kinda funky. And it has wheels :P I love it. But Boi am I in pAiN!. Sigh.

So, to put away the bad news, I'm going to sleep. Writing is not happening today. Not like this, any way. Hmm... now for the good news...

I have just been appointed as a trustee (the youngest, I might add :P) on the corporate board of WIPHOLD. I know, its just a word. Or an acronym. I know. But it's a feather in my cap, whichever way. We are a total of five board trustees. The CEO of WIPHOLD, the CEO of WipCapital and the Chairperson (a Founder Member with great Merit in her field - legal and corporate). And then theres another two of us, newly appointed. This piece of news comes at a rather opportune time, seeing as I am at the threshold of many choices. It is a culmination of the many coats that I wear in the corporate and social sectors and I really hope to be able to make the most of it.

Read the Corporate Profile Mission Statement HERE.

The reasons that I have become hugely interested in this organisation is their immense social responsibility programmes in place. In some cases, companies like these are able to do more than the state. Read more about the extensive Social Development Commitment HERE.

I have a feeling that 2009 is going to be one heck of an exciting year!

The East Coast & Newness

Its new years eve. 2007 is done for, and standing on the precipice of a whole new year ahead, I am tending to prod my toes about rather precariously forward, somewhat fretful about the immediate few weeks of the beginning of the year and mostly anxious about the creative promise that the rest of the year holds.

I have this seed of a wonderful feeling sitting inside of me. Somewhere deep down, waiting to burst forth in time, this little sign of creative life lurks. I have this strange but beautiful feeling about 2008. Not so easy to put into words, but evident to me in the whisper of heartbeats signaling the celebration of life throughout the inner universe.

Its just after 9pm. I am at home, and have not yet decided where I will be when the clock strikes midnight. I got into Johannesburg at about 5pm this evening after having spent about a week on the East Coast in Durban. A week of fabulous fun, sunshine, blue ocean, positive energy from the magic of hugs and quality time with friends and family.. the wedding of a wonderful couple (Naz and Max).. more wonderful people met here and there.. the Al-Ansaar Souk where we launched the book, spoke at some seminars during the week there and held a booksigning or two. And, finally, confirmed a one-semester lectureship with the folk at UKZN to present as case study for sociology students, the themes and theories of Daughters are Diamonds. Which means, effectively, that I have exaclty one month to get my stuff together, round up work things and tie up some loose ends before I get back to Durban, where I will reside for the next five to six months. Well, I asked for change of scenery, and it seems like the universe responded in this way. The rest remains to be played out and seen through :)

Its going to be an interesting 2008. I can almost taste it!

Heres to Newness, Greatness, Madness and Sweetness! Mwah!