Writing

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Cold, grey, mud and garbage. These people’s daily fare. He’s done it before. I saw him myself, visiting the homeless. People living in drain pipes. He’d dress up like no other, I mean, no other, and go off and dance for them. I’ve seen the light of understanding and appreciation in their eyes, with my own eyes.

They had this place earmarked. Him and Elu. At six in the morning he would do his performance. The demolishers had the place earmarked. At six in the morning they’d raize the shacks.

”A wondrous day for making art”, he said later.

 

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

petrujviljoen

petrujviljoen

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.

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