The Stone

I no longer walk among those rocks.

I carry them with me.

I was born in Nelspruit, in the Lowveld of South Africa, but it was in Kaapschehoop that I first discovered freedom, wonder and a profound connection with nature. Although I lived there for only a few childhood years, they became the years that shaped me most deeply.

There were only three children living on the mountain, and no visitors wandering through the forests or climbing the rocks. It was a mountain that belonged to the people who lived there.

The rocks were my playground. I wondered among them for hours, climbing from one great boulder to another, discovering hidden places where ancient trees grew between moss-covered stones. There was always another rock formation to explore, another quiet corner waiting to be discovered.

When the fine mist drifted across the mountain, I would find shelter beneath the trees until it passed. The moss deepened in color, the rocks darkened with the dampness, and I would listen to the quiet rhythm of droplets falling through the forest.

To me, it was pure magic.

Long before people came to admire its beauty, it was simply the place where I grew up. It was home.

Many years passed. Life became more complicated, as it does for all of us. Yet whenever I longed for peace, my mind always returned to the same place. I could almost feel the long grass brushing against my legs, the quiet presence of the rocks around me, and the breeze moving through my hair. It was there where I felt free. I understand now that I wasn't only returning to a place. I was returning to myself.

Only much later did I learn that these stones belong to one of the oldest landscapes on Earth. Knowing that only deepened my appreciation for them. I had always found them magical.

The greatest discovery came years later.

After I had begun making vessels, sculpture lighting, sculptures and paintings, my cousin, Brenda sent me a photo of the rock formations. Along with it she wrote:

"Weet jy, toe ek dit lees kry ek die gevoel dat jou kuns daardie rotse is, want daardie rots formasies was so uniek. Sonder dat jy dit dalk weet, beeld jy soveel daarvan uit in jou kuns."

"You know when I read this, I had the feeling that your art comes from those rocks, because those rock formations were so unique. Perhaps without you even realizing it, you express so much of them in your art."

I sat with her words for a long time before looking at the photograph again.

Then I saw it.

The upright forms. The gentle curves. Stones standing quietly beside one another, weathered by time. Those same forms had quietly found their way into my vessels, my sculpture lighting, my sculptures and my paintings.

I had never set out to recreate those rocks.

My hands had remembered what my mind had forgotten.

The quiet has travelled farther than I ever have.