12. Reflections
8:57 am, Sat, 4 May
"Malo," are you ready?" Dana calls from the front door. She gets really excited when we get to go and visit the annual Art in the Park exhibition. We hardly ever buy anything, could never afford it...and now still can't. But she just loves the laid back atmosphere of beautiful art in the midst of beautiful trees. I'm also hoping it will get my mind off what happened yesterday. I tried. I really did. But what's the point. My giving sure has not helped. I'm tired of things not working for me. Tired!
9:34 am, Sat, 4 May
Wow, this place is packed. A lot more so than the last time we were here. Admittedly that was about three years ago. There is a vibrant atmosphere, unlike last time when it was old people staring at a huddle of old oil paintings. Now there are kids running around between the trees, stands selling hotdogs and burgers, amazing paintings, sculptures, crafts and more. It's a real eclectic mix of people and art that all contribute to the atmosphere.
"This is so exciting," Dana gushes. "Let's go look at that beadwork over there," she says pointing to a table overflowing with beaded items.
"This is so exciting," Dana gushes. "Let's go look at that beadwork over there," she says pointing to a table overflowing with beaded items.
12:38 pm, Sat, 4 May
The art is truly amazing and both Dana and I are reveling in the experience.
"I'm hungry," I say looking at a kid holding a balloon in one hand and a hotdog in the other. Dana follows my gaze and says, "Yeah me too, but a perfect day of art and fresh air is not complemented by a hotdog. I saw a sushi stand next to the watercolor art section. How about that?"
"That does sound good," I reply, "as long as its food you have my vote."
On our way to the sushi stand Dana spots a sign. "Malo look," she says pointing at a sign displaying a camera and a close up of a butterfly.
"Nature's Viewfinder - Enroll on a 2 hour course on macro photography and learn how to capture the unseen beauty of nature."
"Aah Malo, lets do that," she says, her face lighting up with excitement. Dana has wanted to do a photography course for ages. However there has never been the time. "Yeah, why not," I agree grabbing her hand and heading over to the table.
"Hi," I say to the auburn-haired woman seated at the table. She only looks to be in her early twenties. I can't believe that she will have the experience to teach photography.
"Hi," she replies, "what can I do for you?"
"We would like to sign up for the photography course," Dana says, her excitement still bubbling.
Before she can reply I ask, "So have you been doing this for long?" I can't help myself. It's my slightly cautious nature. But she looks too young. She smiles in response to my question.
"I'm Jess Manden, my dad is Elroy Manden," she says, "not sure if you've heard of him?"
Elroy Manden, the famous photojournalist who captures incredible photos of endangered wildlife around the world. She continues, without waiting for a reply, "I spent most of my growing up years with him in the bush. You might say I've been doing this all my life,” she says smiling.
I look at some of the prints she has on display, and I can see the signature work of a prodigy of Elroy Manden.
"Wow, that's amazing," Dana says. “I'd really like to join the course."
"Sure," Jess says, "but there is unfortunately only one place left."
I glance at Dana and see her face melt, but before she can say anything I say, "Great, my wife will take it."
Dana look at me inquiringly. "You take it Dana. I still want to go and look at the watercolor art and then I'll grab a coffee and just relax."
"Are you sure?" she asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Absolutely! Dr Malo's orders!"
"I'm hungry," I say looking at a kid holding a balloon in one hand and a hotdog in the other. Dana follows my gaze and says, "Yeah me too, but a perfect day of art and fresh air is not complemented by a hotdog. I saw a sushi stand next to the watercolor art section. How about that?"
"That does sound good," I reply, "as long as its food you have my vote."
On our way to the sushi stand Dana spots a sign. "Malo look," she says pointing at a sign displaying a camera and a close up of a butterfly.
"Nature's Viewfinder - Enroll on a 2 hour course on macro photography and learn how to capture the unseen beauty of nature."
"Aah Malo, lets do that," she says, her face lighting up with excitement. Dana has wanted to do a photography course for ages. However there has never been the time. "Yeah, why not," I agree grabbing her hand and heading over to the table.
"Hi," I say to the auburn-haired woman seated at the table. She only looks to be in her early twenties. I can't believe that she will have the experience to teach photography.
"Hi," she replies, "what can I do for you?"
"We would like to sign up for the photography course," Dana says, her excitement still bubbling.
Before she can reply I ask, "So have you been doing this for long?" I can't help myself. It's my slightly cautious nature. But she looks too young. She smiles in response to my question.
"I'm Jess Manden, my dad is Elroy Manden," she says, "not sure if you've heard of him?"
Elroy Manden, the famous photojournalist who captures incredible photos of endangered wildlife around the world. She continues, without waiting for a reply, "I spent most of my growing up years with him in the bush. You might say I've been doing this all my life,” she says smiling.
I look at some of the prints she has on display, and I can see the signature work of a prodigy of Elroy Manden.
"Wow, that's amazing," Dana says. “I'd really like to join the course."
"Sure," Jess says, "but there is unfortunately only one place left."
I glance at Dana and see her face melt, but before she can say anything I say, "Great, my wife will take it."
Dana look at me inquiringly. "You take it Dana. I still want to go and look at the watercolor art and then I'll grab a coffee and just relax."
"Are you sure?" she asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Absolutely! Dr Malo's orders!"
1:02 pm, Sat, 4 May
"Do you want a mixed selection?" I ask Dana as I look at the sushi on offer.
"Yes thanks," she says standing to one side holding her back. "It would be nice if it includes some veg portions."
I order the sushi and take it over to where Dana is standing under a cool tree. "Should we just walk and eat," I suggest.
"I'd prefer if we could sit somewhere," she replies.
"Is your back bothering you again?" I ask. One thing about Dana is she never complains and her back has been troubling her lately.
"Not too bad," she replies, "but it would feel more comfortable to sit."
"Yes thanks," she says standing to one side holding her back. "It would be nice if it includes some veg portions."
I order the sushi and take it over to where Dana is standing under a cool tree. "Should we just walk and eat," I suggest.
"I'd prefer if we could sit somewhere," she replies.
"Is your back bothering you again?" I ask. One thing about Dana is she never complains and her back has been troubling her lately.
"Not too bad," she replies, "but it would feel more comfortable to sit."
1:52 pm, Sat, 4 May
"OK, I better go," Dana says looking at her watch. "The session is from two till four. Are you sure you don't mind me going?"
"As I said," I reply, "Doctor Malo's orders!"
She smiles her enchanting smile of appreciation. "Thanks Malo, I love you.
"As I said," I reply, "Doctor Malo's orders!"
She smiles her enchanting smile of appreciation. "Thanks Malo, I love you.
2:05 pm, Sat, 4 May
Right, now I am on my own. It seems like things are even busier in the afternoon. Lots of people are milling around looking at the arts and crafts or eating from the various food stalls. A mixture of kids laughter, music, the smell of food, a lovely sunny day, all combine to create a truly relaxing ambiance.
I have a couple of hours to kill so I decide to first go and check out the watercolor art section. I've always enjoyed working with watercolor and am keen to see some of the artists’ work. On my way there I notice a table spread with a colorful array of stones, and knowing Dana’s fascination with pretty stones I stop to get her a few.
I wander over to the watercolor section, which is at the far back corner of the park. As I have no real time pressure I spend my time absorbing each painting. I'm in awe of the work I see and enjoying myself thoroughly.
I am about to leave this section and head out and find a coffee when I notice a painting I hadn't seen before. It is partially obscured by a large painting of a wildflower.
I step around the wildflower painting to look at the obscured painting, and am immediately hit with a sense of déjà vu. It is a beautiful mountain scene. A huge waterfall plummets into a grassy valley below where the river meanders through a tree-lined path before vanishing off to the left.
"I've seen this place," I gasp as I look with awe at the picture. “This is THE place on the mountain. Or a very similar looking place. Incredibly similar. Too similar!” I look closer to see who did the painting and notice it is titled "Reflections". The artist’s name is signed in the river on the left but it is difficult to make out what it says.
I glance around for someone to ask about the painting. There's no one in sight. I look back at the painting. The more I look at it the more the memory of that place streams back. This is that place. How can it be?
I eventually locate a red-cheeked, elderly guy wearing a beret sitting on a fold up chair under a tree behind the paintings. He seems engrossed in a book he is reading.
"Sorry, are these your paintings?" I ask.
He chuckles, "Oh no. No indeed. I wish they were mine," he replies. "I'm selling them for various artists but they are not my work. Oh no. No indeed."
"Yes, OK, that's what I mean," I say. "I just wanted to ask you about one of the paintings."
"Aah, yes. Yes indeed," he says.
"There is one called 'Reflections'," I say, "It's a waterfall, river scene. Who painted it?"
He thinks for a while. His cheeks go slightly redder as if in response to his brain working. After a while he pushes his beret slightly to the side and says, "Yes, Yes indeed. That is the work of Leb Olam. Yes indeed Leb."
"Um, do you perhaps know if it is possible to contact him?" I ask.
"Well of course yes," he replies, "of course." When he is not forthcoming with any more information I ask, "And how could I do that?"
"Aah yes," he begins, and I'm worried he is going to spiral into another vague mumble, "just visit him. He lives next to the park," he says pointing towards the trees behind him. “Just through there.” With that he returns to reading his book.
"Uh, thanks," I say as I walk away. If this guy lives next to the park I'm going to see if I can talk to him. Maybe he's been to the same place I have. His painting has an amazing resemblance to that place.
I have a couple of hours to kill so I decide to first go and check out the watercolor art section. I've always enjoyed working with watercolor and am keen to see some of the artists’ work. On my way there I notice a table spread with a colorful array of stones, and knowing Dana’s fascination with pretty stones I stop to get her a few.
I wander over to the watercolor section, which is at the far back corner of the park. As I have no real time pressure I spend my time absorbing each painting. I'm in awe of the work I see and enjoying myself thoroughly.
I am about to leave this section and head out and find a coffee when I notice a painting I hadn't seen before. It is partially obscured by a large painting of a wildflower.
I step around the wildflower painting to look at the obscured painting, and am immediately hit with a sense of déjà vu. It is a beautiful mountain scene. A huge waterfall plummets into a grassy valley below where the river meanders through a tree-lined path before vanishing off to the left.
"I've seen this place," I gasp as I look with awe at the picture. “This is THE place on the mountain. Or a very similar looking place. Incredibly similar. Too similar!” I look closer to see who did the painting and notice it is titled "Reflections". The artist’s name is signed in the river on the left but it is difficult to make out what it says.
I glance around for someone to ask about the painting. There's no one in sight. I look back at the painting. The more I look at it the more the memory of that place streams back. This is that place. How can it be?
I eventually locate a red-cheeked, elderly guy wearing a beret sitting on a fold up chair under a tree behind the paintings. He seems engrossed in a book he is reading.
"Sorry, are these your paintings?" I ask.
He chuckles, "Oh no. No indeed. I wish they were mine," he replies. "I'm selling them for various artists but they are not my work. Oh no. No indeed."
"Yes, OK, that's what I mean," I say. "I just wanted to ask you about one of the paintings."
"Aah, yes. Yes indeed," he says.
"There is one called 'Reflections'," I say, "It's a waterfall, river scene. Who painted it?"
He thinks for a while. His cheeks go slightly redder as if in response to his brain working. After a while he pushes his beret slightly to the side and says, "Yes, Yes indeed. That is the work of Leb Olam. Yes indeed Leb."
"Um, do you perhaps know if it is possible to contact him?" I ask.
"Well of course yes," he replies, "of course." When he is not forthcoming with any more information I ask, "And how could I do that?"
"Aah yes," he begins, and I'm worried he is going to spiral into another vague mumble, "just visit him. He lives next to the park," he says pointing towards the trees behind him. “Just through there.” With that he returns to reading his book.
"Uh, thanks," I say as I walk away. If this guy lives next to the park I'm going to see if I can talk to him. Maybe he's been to the same place I have. His painting has an amazing resemblance to that place.
2:42 pm, Sat, 4 May
I walk in the direction I was pointed to, and after passing through some trees I come up against a tall fence. I look for an entrance to the property beyond, but there does not appear to be any. I head left but eventually my progress is cut off by a concrete wall from another property. I backtrack and head right along the fence. However once again my progress is halted, this time by some thick, thorny bushes.
I am about to give in when I notice a tall tree growing near the fence with branches hanging over onto the other side.
"This is crazy thinking," I say out aloud to myself. "Are you going to climb a tree to maybe find a person who maybe painted the place you maybe went to? The last thing I need is another crazy story to have to tell Dana."
And so with sense talked into myself I turn to go back and get that coffee I promised myself. However a flash of color catches my eye up in the tree. Orange and blue. I look again. Was it the sunbird? Was it? I can't see anything now. Maybe I am really losing it.
"Malo, you are an idiot," I say to myself as I hoist myself up onto the lowest branches on the tree. But I just have to know. I just have to find out.
It is relatively easy to make progress up the big tree. I have to climb quite high before I can get to the branches that hang over the fence. I finally get to a branch that provides access to a lower branch on the other side of the fence. However, as I step on the branch below me I hear a sharp crack and feel the branch falling beneath me. Desperately I grab hold of the branch above and just manage to hang on as the huge broken limb I was standing on crashes heavily to the ground below.
I cling desperately to the branch, my feet swinging freely beneath me. In horror I realize there is no other branch for me to stand on. I attempt to swing my legs towards the trunk but it is too far. I look down and I can see the ground far below. My hands are hurting and I can feel my grip beginning to slip. If I fall I will seriously hurt myself...or worse. I try to pull myself up, but it's no use. I simply don't have the strength.
"Help!" I scream, but there is no reply. I am too far away from the park. Oh why do I keep getting myself into such stupid situations. What's with me?
I can't hold on much longer. My hands are slipping as the panic sets in. I can feel I am losing my grip. "Lord, where are you? Please help me!" I cry out. "Please."
“Do you believe I can?" a voice replies from somewhere below.
I nearly let go in surprise. "Is that you?"
"Yes," the voice replies. I can just make out a face looking up from below. It's Yesh.
"Help me Yesh, please," I plead.
"Do you believe I can?" he asks again.
"Yes, yes, yes," I cry as I feel my grip slipping further.
"Then let go Malo."
"But can't you just fly up and help me, or grow a branch or something?" I plead.
"You said you believe, Malo. It's time to let go."
I close my eyes and open my hands.
I am about to give in when I notice a tall tree growing near the fence with branches hanging over onto the other side.
"This is crazy thinking," I say out aloud to myself. "Are you going to climb a tree to maybe find a person who maybe painted the place you maybe went to? The last thing I need is another crazy story to have to tell Dana."
And so with sense talked into myself I turn to go back and get that coffee I promised myself. However a flash of color catches my eye up in the tree. Orange and blue. I look again. Was it the sunbird? Was it? I can't see anything now. Maybe I am really losing it.
"Malo, you are an idiot," I say to myself as I hoist myself up onto the lowest branches on the tree. But I just have to know. I just have to find out.
It is relatively easy to make progress up the big tree. I have to climb quite high before I can get to the branches that hang over the fence. I finally get to a branch that provides access to a lower branch on the other side of the fence. However, as I step on the branch below me I hear a sharp crack and feel the branch falling beneath me. Desperately I grab hold of the branch above and just manage to hang on as the huge broken limb I was standing on crashes heavily to the ground below.
I cling desperately to the branch, my feet swinging freely beneath me. In horror I realize there is no other branch for me to stand on. I attempt to swing my legs towards the trunk but it is too far. I look down and I can see the ground far below. My hands are hurting and I can feel my grip beginning to slip. If I fall I will seriously hurt myself...or worse. I try to pull myself up, but it's no use. I simply don't have the strength.
"Help!" I scream, but there is no reply. I am too far away from the park. Oh why do I keep getting myself into such stupid situations. What's with me?
I can't hold on much longer. My hands are slipping as the panic sets in. I can feel I am losing my grip. "Lord, where are you? Please help me!" I cry out. "Please."
“Do you believe I can?" a voice replies from somewhere below.
I nearly let go in surprise. "Is that you?"
"Yes," the voice replies. I can just make out a face looking up from below. It's Yesh.
"Help me Yesh, please," I plead.
"Do you believe I can?" he asks again.
"Yes, yes, yes," I cry as I feel my grip slipping further.
"Then let go Malo."
"But can't you just fly up and help me, or grow a branch or something?" I plead.
"You said you believe, Malo. It's time to let go."
I close my eyes and open my hands.