As I grew older, I slowly began to drift down the hill from my school to St. Pauls, and as a creative person, it sparked my neurons. Houses were painted brighter colours, music was played louder, food smelt and tasted better, people laughed a lot and partied. It was a hell of an awakening.
I’m not ready to say goodbye to Jacky to lay a flower on her coffin to light a candle in her name I’m not ready for reading brave obituaries Nor to speak of her in the past tense Or work out who’s to blame We had more adventures to come did me and Jacky women… Continue reading Saying Goodbye to Jacky
It is inevitable then, that my art has to be about power, danger and survival.