Because the fun has been had. For now, anymore would be illegal.
Friday, May 18, 2012
So I just ate pronutro for the first time in more than a dozen years. The mouth has a memory awu suka madoda, I can't explain how it felt. I had, however, forgotten how to make it and the box didn't seem to say, so I did what you do in times like this and googled it but with no luck. At the store, when I asked the black employees how to make it (in their language that is also a cousin of mine), they couldn't tell me. I was passed from one to the next, people shaking their heads like I was asking how to seduce Jesus. I had forgotten how food is complicated business; there is white people's food and black people's food and rich people's food and poor people's food. Its a fact of life I had almost forgotten. Of course I didn't eat pronutro when I was growing up; it's wasn't exactly our food. For breakfast I remember black tea for the most part, plain bread (butter and jam were treats), magwadla (dried shelled maize), maqebelengwana (which I hated). Lol, but I turned out just fine I guess, except I have a general suspicion for pretty food.
Friday, May 11, 2012
"I respect what I am doing. I am willing to protect this creative moment and can give up friendships for it, even permanently. I have never regretted claiming this sort of space. Fortunately, generous and giving colleagues and family members surround me; I am even luckier in my friends who seem to understand too well my desires for solitude." Yvonne Vera. Nuff said, uh huh, nuthin to add there. Nada.