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Gary the Tooth Fairy

Gary the Tooth Fairy

Played by Bevan Cullinan, Gary the Tooth Fairy is a comedy play on at Festival in which Gary discusses life as a tooth fairy in modern South Africa. What was meant to be a simple photo shoot for an interview turned into an hour of running up and down the garden...
Down in the Dumps with a Stilt-walker

Down in the Dumps with a Stilt-walker

7am. In the Grahamstown rubbish dump, stilt-walker Richard Antrobus picks his way through old tyres, broken plastic and mud the colour of offal. Of all the places I thought I would find myself on a Saturday morning – in my entire life – this is quite...
Some Interviewy Goodness

Some Interviewy Goodness

In lieu of more interesting content, of which there will indeed be some to come shortly (including details of the next substantial adventure and cavorting behind a camera for the National Arts Festival in less than a week), here is an interview. Some of the...
Some Interviewy Goodness

In which thoughts turn to travel once more

The night draws close and the world sleeps. Quietly, in my own silent space here, the walls remind me of journeys past. Places, so many places. Framed, worn as a purple Ethiopian scarf, a magic ring from Senegal around my neck and another on my thumb – haggled...
Interested applicants

Interested applicants

There is much that I have come to remember that I missed about university. Like learning – that feeling as though you are actually becoming smarter with each article read. Or that feeling of checking books out of the library  as though you were becoming wiser...
All the things we don’t leave behind

All the things we don’t leave behind

Fingers press the stories insistently into the keyboard. Sometimes gently, or sarcastically, or desperately weaving something that happened into a wordpicture that my smile – or yours – will find in some time hence. Sometimes finding a story is hard....
Some Thoughts on Travel Writing

Some Thoughts on Travel Writing

Away from telling stories for a second, and on to asking questions of travel writing. Stylistically and storytellingly (yes, that is a word now) At Matador, the question occasionally pops up as to what makes for honest, compelling travel writing – the stuff that...
Guarding the Witching Hour

Guarding the Witching Hour

The night is a cold place. Empty streets freeze imperceptibly under sodium lights. The warmth of human life dances and slurs elsewhere, its echoes stumbling out into the cold midnight darkness before slowing, stopping. Retreating in nervous uncertainty. Never crossing...
Strangerness

Strangerness

I don’t so much wake up as have the sleep evaporated from me. Morning in the Sudan drifts warm into the room. My bed sags forlornly, too worn to squeal in protest as I climb out of my sleeping bag; packing it and my toiletries into my backpack in minutes. I’m getting...
The place where the people with notepads go

The place where the people with notepads go

The streets are a mess. Vuvuzelas and singing crawl along up ahead. Someone was allegedly beaten up yesterday for getting too close. The local paper showed a pretty serious head injury on a fairly unhappy-looking man. He told the reporter that he had been assaulted...