Same-same, but different

So you may have noticed that I've been absent from the blog-o-sphere for a while. I've been on scholarly pursuits at the university on the hill, as mentioned in previous blogs before academia swallowed me up. 

I managed to churn out almost 80 000 words of a thesis, with a little help from family and friends and a dollop of motivation from Idris Elba, who made me feel guilty every time I opened the fridge, where my daughter had stuck the following picture: 

image courtesy of Pinterest

Normally, yoga would have kept me sane, but I developed a "tennis elbow" as a result of sitting at a computer for hours on end – first world problems, my daughter called it. So, instead of downward-facing dog and sun salutes, I put on my walking shoes and walked.

Now that my life is taking on a semblance of normality again, I've decided to revive the blog. I have held on to the lavender, travel stamps and potjie but it’s been given a fresh look (perhaps more grown-up?) by my friend and fellow-student, Stephen Symons … same-same, but different, as we heard everywhere we went in Thailand when we visited years ago.  I'm sure I even saw T-shirts with that saying.

When I emerged from behind my desk, the real world had been carrying on without me: 
My nephew, born at 34 weeks, had turned into a robust toddler after his shaky start to life. (See blog)

The little preemie soon
after birth 

A year later presumably
on a diet of gravel

The Delft Big Band has played at Starlight Classics, released a CD and made a turn at the Cape Town International Jazz Festival. 

international delegates at WEF 2015

I gave the World Economic Forum a miss this year to complete and hand in the thesis but did manage to balance the last year with a trip to Paris with my daughter.

 

Attending the 2014 WCPRC awards ceremony provided the perfect excuse to take some time out to wrap up the thesis. 

Gripsholm Castle, Mariefred

And I was in False Bay Harbour to see my son and his team mates get rescued by the National Sea Rescue Institute during the Lipton Challenge Cup.

Hard to believe the storm 3 days later

In between, my daughter graduated and is on a gap year while my son is writing matric ... more news and snippets of writing in upcoming blogs!

Halfway through the Masters

This morning when I got back from my walk, the dogs were under attack by an angry swarm of bees which had made their nest under the eaves of the garden shed. So just when I thought I had a quiet morning after the builders left, I was phoning around for a "bee-man". It's no simple problem. As I write this they are being smoked out and then the roof has to be sealed, including every single corrugation it has, so that the bees don't come back to the nest. 

The academic year ended three weeks ago and apart from builders I have also had to deal with the city council and pest control because apparently it's rat season in Cape Town. And then a small matter of root canal surgery. Seems this was all on hold while I was indulging in the student life. 

I can hardly believe that the first year of the MA programme has come and gone. Half the time I was ecstatic about the opportunity and couldn't believe my luck. I probably irritated a few people by being on an almost-constant high about all that I was learning and didn't need a second invitation to talk about the course. The rest of the time I felt slightly inadequate about my illusions of being writer. There was more than one occasion when I huddled with my fellow-students outside the Arts Block after a seminar where a hallowed-published author had just given us a talk on how difficult it was to be a writer. 

The course work is done and now the real work begins - writing a 65-70 000 word thesis - putting all that I have learned into practice. I have no intention of spending 3-5 years on this masters programme but am a little worried about being able to dish up a book in a year. On the other hand, I am a late bloomer and want to get the MA behind by my back. There are many more projects to get on with.

As I was recently reminded, everyone feels inadequate at one time or another, you have to use it to your advantage, to spur you on. So, I intend to stay focused and see this through as best I can. At the end of the day I believe that you write because you can't help yourself. You create a work of art and if other people love it, that's great. If I worried about whether or not everybody else was going to like it, I'd never do it. In any case, my supervisor says that I should be writing to one reader - him. 

In the words of one of my teachers, "Onwards and upwards!"