x-o

I agree. In a thousand albums. You know, I've listened to August and Everything After for a hell of a long time. I really wanted to feed you a lot of music. I love this song from Recovering the Satellites. It's a horrible pang of regret I feel that, you know, after this exchange, I will never talk to you again. You've the locus of a body of correspondence, like I am - was - and untouchable in that immensity, in the busy-busy crash of the everyday.

Here's a song from the latest genre, Vaporwave. The theme is... nostalgia.

Aweh!!! No way! How did you work with him? You know, Australian culture and ZA culture really click in that guy's raps. He's like, you ever played with Pokémon Cards? Know a guy who thinks that if he smokes fancy sounding cigarettes, he's great? Well, listen to me tell you that he's a f_)cking loser and Pokémon Cards are great.

A very small story: a girl called Anneke Vo went to a festival, called Dragon Dreaming, and she passed away tragically due to a drug overdose. But even now, people still quote her blogger - however campy that might be -

"You are not a reflection of those who cannot love you."

Whether it's Iain, the group of photographers, or something else, being in the locus of possibility, around heavy stimulus, is often where I find you have to be in order to transform yourself.

Speaking honestly, and from harsh experience, when you travel from these places, even opportunities don't save you from the burn. Things become dull and faded. It was good to have people around you who were eager for their craft, for photography, and the time to practice something that makes you reach out. I can tell you about a girl who was surrounded by engineers, and damn, she became the best coder I know. You might say, that's an ascetic craft. But it's also a practice of expression.

But now she's a burnout because she isolated herself. There are people out there who shine when inspired and blacken when left - starved, lacking oxygen. She is coming back. But as the perennial saying is, you are (not) alone.

I sincerely wish you maintain your Babel.

Here's a song fragment.

I wanted to say, I've followed your work since about 2008 and I have appreciated it. I was linked it by someone who is important and is gone, I'm sure this whole thing is not new to you (but you'll say it's equally as valid despite that, yeah.) and I admire how you've developed yourself and your capacity to express yourself over the last few years.

Sometimes your expression has been clearer, sometimes it has been murky. It maps your thoughts, hopes and dreams as they wax and wane.

As you move, you let little strands of yourself out, deliberate, and you unlike others have an outlet with which to express these things, delicate and ugly, pretty, and every now and again, powerful enough to matter, and you will be better regarded and better held in contempt by those that have suffered, like you, and suffered for reaching/not reaching out.

My question is, how can you stand living in South Africa when it's so corrupt?

Yeah, I am in Australia and one of my former friends, Shanaaz Adams, was an Australian girl who moved here from South Africa. One of her best friends was shot in the head next to her. The corruption, unlike the money, trickles down.

How does it feel knowing that ZA is [unfairly.] represented by Die Antwoord, the verb 'jackrolling', reverse segregation and this boertjie!