Inspired to create in the Northern Cape

One of the Art Therapy blogs I worked on during my trip

In today's blog, I wish to take you on an inspirational journey with me. I want you to explore your creative side and to discover new outlets for your talents, emotions and thoughts. I am going to show you how I have allowed my travels through the Northern Cape to influence my work. I draw from the places and experiences I've shared with you in the past couple of blogs for this purpose. We are going to look at different creative outlets, such as photography, poetry, and painting. We are also going to see what we can do to involve the children in our lives in our experiences. Today, in the aftermath of a great journey, we get inspired to create.

Inspiration lurks around every corner when you travel

Whenever I travel, I try to draw as much away from my experiences as I can. I take thousands of photos, and I download these meticulously every evening, labeling the folders with dates and names of places, so that I can keep track. I find that if I don't do it this way, the places, events and routes tend to get all jumbled up in my mind. All of these photos, don't simply sit in a folder on my computer, though. I revisit it frequently, and peruse it often when I look for inspiration for my arts and crafts blog, A Pretty Talent, or when I take on commissioned paintings.

Even a play park in the rain, can make for interesting photos. Simply adjust the angle to gain a new perspective.

Let's start with the kids. I am aunt to five nephews and nieces, with a 14 year age gap between the oldest and the youngest. The oldest two are already teenagers, and when I share my experiences with them, I can use photos and stories, the same as I would with any adult. The younger ones long to be more involved. Returning home from the trip, everyone was on hand to help with the unloading of the luggage. This quickly led to the discovery of the red 'sand' I collected at Hondeklipbaai. They were thrilled to come across the bag filled with shells, as well. The suggestion was immediately made that we should do some art with it, a proposal that filled me with great pride and joy. It implied that these youngsters, in whom I had invested a lot of time to develop their creativity, was starting to see the possibilities in things, the same way their aunt did.

The red sand beach at Hondeklipbaai 

The shell-strewn beaches at Hondeklipbaai

It was not long after, that I called the three younger ones together and we used the shells and sand in some artwork. I wrote a blog about this for A Pretty Tourist's sister blog, titled A Pretty Talent. Follow the link to find out more about the process and thinking that went into this project. I was thrilled by the interest the oldest of my nephews took in the crushed garnets as well. He commandeered the youngest nephew and the two of them spent hours washing the sand and removing all the stones and pebbles from it, so we could use it in our art. He has long since had a fascination with stones and have been collecting it for years.

The kids incorporating red sand and shells in their own art

Hondeklipbaai had some of its own artists to marvel at as well. I am sure there must be more artists in Hondeklipbaai, but the two I came across, are located right next to the coffee shop, and I was bound to pass by their gallery quite frequently. It is always fascinating to see how different artists interpret their own surroundings, and which things appeal to them most. It gives you yet another way of looking at the place you find yourself in, when you travel.
Kunstenaars op Hondeklipbaai

The inside/outside gallery at Hondeklipbaai

Hondeklipbaai also afforded some of the most exquisite photo shoots one could hope for. Initially, when decided to write this blog, I thought I would show some photos that I had manipulated on the computer. Imagine doing something as simple as rendering these photos in black and white, or sepia. I decided against doing this and opted to rather show you the originals, and telling you what it was that appealed to me in the photos. This way, you can find it easier to find your own great shots when next you go travelling with your camera. I start with a photo shoot at the ship wreck just outside of town.

A photo struggles to capture the size of the wrecked vessel where it sits high above the tidal line on the rocks. 

 When moving in up close to a subject, one gains a whole new perspective on the scene.

 I was fascinated by the contrast achieved between the cool colors in the background, offset against the warm colors in the foreground. The decaying wreck also opened new 'windows', which afforded a unique view on the breaking waves, creating natural frames for the expansive vista.

The interaction the wreck had with its surroundings was a source of joy to me. In this photo we see the sky, the rocks, the sea shells and the wreck. Each of these elements bring a unique set of characteristics to the photo. 

The 'rib cage' of the wreck had me crawling inside it to capture the dramatic play of light and shadow.

 I an era where 'steam punk' has become very popular, the fascination of old and rusty machinations will have a wide appeal and this wreck afforded many brilliant photos of this kind.

Another aspect of the wreck that appealed to me was the variations in texture. In this photo we see broken edges along with much smoother ones. We also have the flat surface of the rock, complimented by the knobbly surface created by the bolts. Some surfaces have gained the appearance of being porous, while others remain impenetrable. Brilliant!

Decaying wood will always hold a fascination all its own. I was intrigued by the fact that some of the wood seemed to be less corroded and decayed than the strong metal. 

I could take hundreds of photos of this one wreck and keep coming up with even more ideas. Change the weather conditions, or the time of day, and the whole scene changes with it. Look out for gems such as these in your travels.

Sometimes, I also use the photos I take on my travels, to inspire my paintings.

The small interpretations of the Alpacas were inspired by the Alpacas at The Shack Coffee House in Hondeklipbaai. Read about these paintings here.

I painted this intercessor as an emotional response to the praying I did on this trip, for my friend, who was bombarded by thieves and crooks after her husband passed away. You can read more about this painting here. 

The Sun Catcher was another painting that came forth as an emotional response to the whole trip. I felt like a little girl who held the sun by a string, after the energizing trip. However, I wrote a poem, inspired by someone else's story, that influenced my interpretation of my own painting, even though it had nothing to do with the trip. You can read more about the painting here. 

This landscape was inspired by some of the scenes on the way to Montagu. I combined a couple of photos and gave the painting my own interpretation. You can read more about this painting here.

This seascape was the result of a combination of two photographs. One was taken in Bloubergstrand and the other in Lambertsbaai. I combined them to create my own scene. You can read more about this painting here.

Art is not restricted to the visual genre. My travels also inspire me to write. The blogs are a natural outflow of the travels, but I also write poetry and stories, both long and short. I have already shared the painting of the sun catcher with you. This is the poem that resulted from the painting, titled Sun Catcher.

The sun cracked up the sky
with laughter spilling red from its wide open mouth
Birds echoed its giggle
and swooped through its warm embrace

Somewhere a child was born
and its gurgles filled the hearts of the new parents with the same warm
hat the sun lavishly spilled onto the earth
The child lassoed the sun, roping it into their lives with warm fingers

Summer was never as warm as when the child came into their lives
Winter was never so absent
The child gave and gave and gave of its love
and the sun shone down on all who did, or did not, deserve it.

An original poem by Miekie

Another poem inspired by these travels is called Voiceless Cities:

I have visited great cities in this world

and found them speechless, silent,

hoarse, with voiceless laryngitis

I strained my ear, but could not hear them.

Dubai opened its mouth and gurgled strange noises at me

through a gaping hole of opulence and luxury.

Amsterdam confused me with too many streets,

too many faces, and too few fixed opinions.

Glasgow sputtered about old and new

and lost its voice in compromise.

London, Paris, Jo’burg, stared at me with silence,

with no introduction and no identity.

It was only when I stood in the open field of the Karoo,

with my toes curled into its warm sand,

with endless emptiness, stretching before and above,

that I heard a clear and distinct voice calling loudly,

welcoming me home and stretching its embrace wide.

My soul responded with a resonating ‘yes!’ and I was at peace.

An original poem by Miekie

Yet another poem is called Driftwood:

We are all driftwood

in an ocean of encounters,

flotsam of each others’ lives.

Tossed to and fro by the waves,

without direction or guidance,

we bounce up and sink down low,

utterly delivered unto the tides and times.

Destiny has decided our fate

and we drift aimlessly along,

until we smash against a rock

and are forced to decide.

Do we yield, or do we resist?

Resisting, we’re knocked into splinters,

and we rejoice, for we are more,

not realizing how much we are reduced.

Yielding, we gain a foothold

and we anchor against that rock

and gradually are wedged deeper

and deeper until we become one

with it and toss around no more.

The waves still crash, the storms still rage,

yet we are unmoved, unshaken, firm

for we have found strength in One

who has faced the storms and overcome,

who have raced the oceans and have won.

An original poem by Miekie

A poem inspired by my friend's grief was called A Time To Grieve:

There is a pain that transcends thinking,

is not limited by understanding,

and refuses to be captured in words.

The soul has a space that embraces anguish,

where sadness is caressed and nurtured,

where grief sprouts beds of blooms.

And when pain, sadness, anguish and grief reaches maturity,

the heart opens up and gushes out its sorrow,

bleeding tears down stricken faces.

It bleeds again and again, over and over,

everyday anew as if for the first time,

until one day, finally, it is cleansed.

On that day the heart's wounds start closing,

It accepts, restores and heals, albeit gradually,

until at last the heart fondly cherishes memories

An original poem by Miekie

I also wrote some poems in my mother tongue, Afrikaans. I post these here for the benefit of the many readers who understand this language as well. The first is called Vreemde Bemindes (Beloved Strangers):

My lyf het op ver plekke gaan draai

waar hoë winde waai

en lae vlaktes ver reik

om my van nader te bekyk.

My voete het vreemde paaie geloop

om my van my kind te stroop

Teerpad, grondpad, doringpad

en sommer waterlangs het ek rigting gevat.

My hande het aan vreemde dinge gevoel

wyl my verstand met vreemde klanke woel

my mond nuwe smake ontdek

en my neus die geure oopvlek.

Plekke, mense en gewoontes was ongewoon

en tog was elke nuwe plek se groot vertoon

alreeds bekend en reeds bemind

wanneer ek ‘n kennis in ‘n onbekende vind.

So vind ek dan bemindes

tussen vreemde eensgesindes,

en strooi my hart soos saad

na elkeen wat ek agterlaat

An original poem by Miekie

Another poem was called Stiltetyd (A Time for Silence):

Vanuit die veld hoor ek my God roep

"Môre my kind. Kom sit. Gesels."

Maar ek jaag verby, want ek is haastig"

Nie nou nie. Later. Nou moet ek eers ..."

Lunch time hoor ek God roep bo die geskarrel

"Middag my kind. Kom Sit. Gesels."

Maar ek is haastig. Daar's 'n lys met 'n duisend dinge

"Nie nou nie. Later. Nou moet ek eers ..."

Vasgevang in die laatmiddagverkeer, hoor ek God roep

"Middag my kind. Jy sit nou. Kom ons gesels."

Maar dis belangriker om te hoor wat die radio oor die traffic sê

"Nie nou nie. Later. Ek wil nou eers by die huis kom."

Met die huis versorg is daar tyd om voor die tv te ontspan

"Naand my kind. Noudat jy sit, kan ons mos maar gesels."

Maar ek is moeg, nie lus vir skuldgevoelens of nuwe opdragte nie

"Net nie nou nie. Miskien môre. Ek wil net bietjie rus."

En dan bars 'n bom in my netjies geordende lewe

en alles wat ek vertrou lê in chaos en ek bal my vuis na bo

"Waar was U dat U dit nie kon verhoed nie? Te besig?!"

Maar soos ek die woorde bulder, voel ek die klag aan my eie lyf

"Vader!"

"My kind."

"Is U nog daar?"
"Altyd my kind. Kom sit. Gesels."

An original poem by Miekie

There are many more poems and paintings I can tell you about, but these will suffice for the purpose of the blog. What I really want to leave you with, is the sense of inspiration. We leave a footprint on this earth. This is true. But it also leaves a footprint on our souls, and we should embrace that.

The lighthouse in Hondeklipbaai

Marietjie Uys (Miekie) is a published author. You can buy my books here:
You can purchase Designs By Miekie 1 here.
Jy kan Kom Ons Teken en Verf Tuinstories hier koop.
Jy kan Kom Ons Kleur Tuinstories In hier koop.
Jy kan Tuinstories hier koop.
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