Why I dance in the rain

Why I dance in the rain

I was born and raised in South Africa – third, fourth, fifth generation – and all my childhood memories of vacations are from the dry flat landscape of the Karoo. Stark unrelenting miles of dusky golds and browns interrupted only by bitter faced mountains and lonely...
Why our stories matter

Why our stories matter

The more I write about writing, about how blogging can make us feel small, and the more I read about writing, and the power of our words, the more I want to reach through this screen and just shake you. I want to grab you by both shoulders, look you in the eyes and...
If your resolutions are already mocking you

Waiting

The new year is coming. And the old will softly slip away to sleep. I have a bed time habit I’ve inherited from my dad. Every night, before I turn out the last light, I walk over to the window. In the summer they’re usually wide open anyway. But in the...