Leave a comment

February 17, 2016 by petrujviljoen


La Rasta in Joubert Park (950x629)

The women cooking on the pavements started storing their trolleys in our garden overnight. The white people in the building decided to have a party. Sometimes I was invited and sometimes not. This time I wasn’t. I went out to a club to miss it, came back late. There was drumming, they often did. I very nearly learnt how to drum at these parties. That night they must’ve gotten something wrong: the women’s stuff got stolen. The white people tried to blame me, said I left the door open.

We all walked around rather fearful after that. The women were very cross with us. I had to go out to work every day. On my way home one day, walking stiffly, head down, clutching my bag, three guys fell in with me, walking on either side. I don’t think I breathed for a while, expecting the worst. We walked on…

View original post 311 more words


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material or any part of this material without express and written permission from myself is strictly prohibited.

Join 421 other followers

Artist Statement or rationale or why do I do what I do



I make art, I read a lot and I'm now trying to write as well. Otherwise I belong to a cat by the name of Charlie that drives me nuts sometimes and other times makes me melt with love for her.

Personal Links

View Full Profile →

%d bloggers like this: