Happy Holidays!

Well, you may still be on holiday :-). Some lucky sausages still are. I hope you had a good opportunity to change channels in your mind and refresh the parts you otherwise forget.

I enjoyed deep relaxation at a little village on a river by the sea in the Eastern Cape. Our family has gone there for decades and though some parts have changed, others haven't. One side of the river ~ from the rivermouth upstream into the distance as far as you can see ~ has remained covered by indigenous bush for the last 40 years that we've known the place. Just 3 houses dot one hillside. Its so beautiful and peaceful as a result. You don't feel crowded. You don't feel the pressure of relentless development. Instead you can appreciate the value of something that endures and which is therefore, in a sense, timeless.

Above: Tidal marsh, Kariega River, Eastern Cape - South Africa

While on holiday, I found loads of cool bits 'n bobs (vintage circus posters, postcards, 50's novels etc) that make me bollemakiesie, so lots to share over the next few weeks.

To start, enjoy these hip and happening vacation destinations.

Above: 70's postcard for the Ermelo Holiday Inn
(click image to enlarge)

This is a quirky little artifact.
Remember when everything was in two languages? Check out the pool scene. Patterned mens swimsuits. Diving board. Flared jeans. Upper right, relaxing at the bar, she's in a full length floral chiffon ensemble. Neck scarves knotted to the side. Shirts open halfway down the chest. And you just know its polyester.
Upper left, the dining room, its all about hair... and lapels.
Bottom right, notice her red 'n white little striped dress, probably terry cloth. The chunky lamp base. And of course the patterned maxi spread out on the teal and gold bedspread (take a closer look). He wears a slimfit T. Looks like a radio is built into the nightstand. Ermelo really had it all.
Anything else? Maybe just... everybody's white.

Above: 70's postcard ~ Stokkiesdraai-Spa-Motel, Nylstroom

This pool scene kicks Ermelo's butt. Aah, the sexy 70's... sipping Fanta as you relax by the pool in your yellow bikini under sunny skies. A beefy guy in tight white cozzie perusing the tanned bodies and bums laid out in front of him. Kids in the background locked up in some kind of pen.
And at lower left, white-painted rocks, genius.

Voortrekker Kitsch

Found in my archives, I originally spotted this item at a local market. The border, main lettering and outlines are a glittery silver - like crushed tinfoil just below the glass. It may well be a glass painting actually, created by painting in reverse directly on the back of the glass.

The building featured is the Voortrekker Monument, a solid (and stolid) symbol of the Great Trek undertaken by early white 'Afrikaner' settlers. The flags are those of the early Afrikaner republics. The wording "Op die pad van SA ~ die bou van 'n nasie" means "On the road of South Africa ~ the building of a nation".

For non-South Africans, this is culturally like Confederate imagery. I have a few pieces of Trek kitsch in my home and was tempted to buy this one because its so distinct, exemplary in a way. Laden with nationalist symbols, its cultural and visual weight seemed just too heavy though. I guess that's cultural baggage.

Even without any explanation of language, culture, origins, I believe you would have a clear sense of the kind of message this imagery conveys. Flags, a monument, flaming torches. This is what nationalism thrives on, be it Soviet, American, Chinese or South African.

And now back to our regular broadcast...

(Gosh, I thought it'd been about 3 weeks since my last post on Bollemakiesie and see its more like 6, so this post is for me to get back in the saddle, instead of under it.)

Along the way, both on this blog and off, the question comes to me: what is Bollemakiesie?
For anyone curious, it literally means something like 'somersault' or 'head over heels'. It suggests joy and exuberance. Most days and certainly every week, I see something around me in Cape Town or from the world at large that makes me go wow, I'm glad that exists, I'm grateful to see that.

Some of the blogs I love contain slews of beautiful images and few to no words. And yet not all the things I respond to and am delighted about exist as images. So I expect there will be more words on Bollemakiesie from time to time. And down the line, I hope more music and sound too.
A picture may be worth a thousand words but for music there are no words.

Bollemakiesie is a uniquely South African expression as far as I know, though likely has a Dutch root. In response to being daunted by the scope and quality of the blogs I enjoy, I wonder: what can I share with you that will be worthwhile and make you want to 'bollemakiesie' too? I suspect it'll reflect more South African and African character. But not exlusively. There's too much wonderful stuff in the world to shut any out on account of its origin.

And beyond that, as this is an exploration, it will reflect a unique set of curiosities and interests. Perhaps they overlap here and there, or a lot, with your own.

Embedded in my psyche, from somewhere, is an appreciation of the charm and worth of old things. Not just for being old. But for being beautifully designed, and made to last. Or hilariously specific to their time, now vivid as oddities and reminders of change. Some beauty is simple, some intricate. Some is decayed and other fresh.

Great new design and art doesn't spring fully formed out of nowhere. No matter how radical, it is shaped and informed by what came before. Or by the inherent nature of things, which goes deep and way back. In a way then, the key is to see the timeless.

Recently, at a little bookseller on St George's Mall I found a slim navy blue book ~ Stray Birds by Rabindranath Tagore ~ printed in 1933, first published in 1917. The cover is used, almost burnished, but undamaged, lettered in gold. It has presence. One edge of all the pages is rough, the pages themselves textured with wide spaced phrases of timeless poetry . This chair, this table, this book, this tree, they are not done. They become more rare by continuing to exist as things disappear.

Very often what is 'new' is being sold or promoted to us. The flipside of this is apparent at any good flea market or second-hand store where amazing things go cheap. Living only in the new can result in everyone looking very similar and living in catalogue home interiors - the peril of the popular. Stretching the scope of your appreciation back a few years or decades expands the kaleidoscope for expressing your individuality. There is mystique in old things that suggests a different movie. Its fun.

I live in an old house, standing here more than a century. The walls are thick and my study window is set back under a porch. I seldom to never need to heat or artificially cool the space. Sun shines in during winter. And in summer, the interior is in deep shade. So when I look to build a house, I will learn from this one.

I'm excited and exhilarated by new architecture and technology but one of the 'greenest' easiest actions I take is to buy less new stuff. Ironically, much that is old is as under-appreciated as it is irreplaceable. My floors are wide planks of honey golden oregon pine.