The Spanish Cat -Fait accompli

Back in Johannesburg we saw a lot of each other; she came to my house and cooked me my first paella. At this time I was writing my Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief by hand. Maria had a laptop that she said I could use. The only problem was that it spoke Spanish. Maria wrote down the Spanish and English words that I needed, like Delete etc.
What was to become the first chapter of the “Chronicles of a Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola” were typed on this foreign computer (later I purchased a computer second-hand from Nigel at work).
Our weird relationship continued. I even gave Maria a lift to the airport when she flew to Britain to visit Corrine and then to Spain to see her folks. She was to spend two weeks in the UK and then go on to Spain. Exactly two weeks after she left, I was surprise to get a call from Maria. She had just landed in Spain and HAD to call me. Oh yes … this one was in the bag. I collected her from the airport later that month and got my first real kiss from the Spaniard. Oh yes, and some Spanish delicacies and Turrón – Spanish Almond Candy.
I was still getting dual signals, though; how much she loved this Corinne character and how horrible he was to her. Eventually I got sick of the game. Things came to a head one night at Sheila’s, and in my driveway I told her off, I said I did not deserve this treatment, bye. That was a Friday. On the Monday evening she called to say she had to see me. I told her I had an AA meeting at eight, so no go. She pleaded that she just needed to see me for a short while and predictably – I am a softy – I agreed. She must have been half-way to my place already, as she arrived shortly after that. The meeting was a bit strained and I think she felt a bit out, being in my territory, but after a big hug and a kiss she convinced me to miss the meeting and go out to supper with her instead. I had not missed a “home” meeting in three years. We went to a local Italian restaurant where she had a couple of stiff drinks and was chatting nine to the dozen about all sorts of shit, but not about Corinne for a change. By nine o’clock we were back at my place. She asked for some soft music and lit a couple of my candles. Then she told me that I was a wonderful man and that she had to have me. Two years after I had seen Evonne taking off her clothes in my lounge, Maria did the same.

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A Spanish Cat and the “Crocodiles”

The method in my madness was that as I could not compete on an intellectual level for Maria’s attention, I would do what these doctors could not: be a bushman. I still had a problem with the mixed messages from Maria; was she stuck on Corrine or could I make a play? I must admit that it was something of a challenge to get a doctor into my bed, and this one would do nicely.
Maria was now worrying about sleeping arrangements. Will was also dazzled by the Spaniard, but being the gentleman he was, and quite aware of my intentions, he stated plainly that he would not share his tent with either Maria or me. We were camped next to the river in a dense copse of Acacia trees. In order to see the stars, which are brilliant so far from the city lights, we had to walk up to a patch of Savannah a hundred metres or so from our camp. I left Will and Maria at the camp fire in order to seek out the Southern Cross. The sky was so full of stars that the Milky Way lived up to its name, a solid patch of light; beautiful. As I was standing there a warm body snuggled up to my back and soft arms wrapped around me; they were NOT Will’s. A sexy voice whispered in my ear, ‘It is beautiful, no?’ Oh yes it was. Maria took my hand and I pointed out the Southern Cross and how to use the two pointers to find true south. The bushveld can be chilly at night, so we hugged to kept warm. We returned to the fire and lay on a blanket by the fire: bliss. Will retired to his tent and every now and then had some comment to make. Presently, he was quiet, and Maria and I chatted.
The fear of being quick lay came out in broken English; being a gentleman, I told her I would settle for just sleeping in her arms.

The following day I took them to a dam a few kilometres up the road. The dam was crystal clear and has signs that stated, “Beware of the crocodiles.” They are not joking; having camped at this site before, I had seen plenty of little beady eyes in my torchlight at night.  Will took a photo of Maria and me standing next to the sign. The three of us walked along the edge of the dam in the long grass, looking for crocodiles or snakes. We did not see any but a lot of baby monitor lizards made a dash for the water as we passed. I devised a plan!.
On the way back I walked thigh-deep in the water while the other two walked on the bank. They were worried I would get eaten by a croc; as the water was clear and we had just walked that way without seeing any crocodiles, I thought the risk was worth it. The baby monitor lizards were back on land, Will and Maria walking just ahead of me frightened them back into the water. This gave me the opportunity to grab one. I dived at a small lizard, about 60 cm long, and caught him in the middle, not around the neck as intended. The feisty little chap latched his mouth onto my left wrist, drawing blood. Eventually, with much splashing about, I brought him to land and disengaged his jaws from my wrist. A good bit of watered-down blood was flowing and the two foreigners were impressed. No matter what I told Maria about the difference between a crocodile and a monitor lizard she was convinced I had caught a baby croc for her. Okay, okay. Maybe I did not try hard enough to explain, but my intellectual competitors for Maria’s favours could kiss my arse! That night we snuggled close and I slept well. In some areas I have immense patience.
To be continued….
Taken from: The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief II

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Rickshaw Ride in Durban

For me, December School Holidays meant only one thing, the Natal Coast. Taking a stroll down the Marine Parade, if it is still called that, could be named after some terrorist like Nelson Mandela or Che Guevara now. Still  brought back many memories.  One was the Rickshaws, so I looked up how they came to be here. I see it has nothing to do with the Zulu culture at all, but the Zulu definitely made their stamp with the artwork on the Rickshaws, making them unique to this country.
“The rickshaw (rickshaw) was brought to Durban, in 1893, by the sugar magnate Sir Marshall Campbell, from London. The design was based on the Japanese design and incorporated into a transport system, which only had a handful of cars. They were used to transport ladies and gentlemen to the Berea and back. They were also made available for seaside tourists.
By the 1920’s the rickshaw (rickshaw) was a very well known symbol of the city in general. In 1902, at its peak, more than 24,000 men registered as pullers, for no less than 1,700 rickshas (rickshaws). The men would come to the city for a few months and then return to the country with their earnings.
These iconic symbols are very much part of the Durban main beach rickshaw culture that is Durban. Although, there are only a handful left, their pullers are very dedicated to this dying craft. Although there are less than 20 pullers left, they are dedicated to the art of thrilling their customers. Aside from the beautiful decorated transport, the pullers are decked out in beautiful head-dresses, which are mainly beads and other traditional decorations. All of these beautiful decorations are hand crafted, and there are no two the same.”

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A Spanish Cat

I needed some companionship. This came in the form of a Spaniard called Maria. How I came to meet this her was indirectly, through Angus. When I met him he was going out with a Wiccan Witch. She was blonde and reasonable good looking, and Charmaine hated her on sight. He eventually swapped the Witch for a pathologist, from a very posh family. She, too, was blonde and pretty enough, her family were the Mitchells; her name was Bridgette. He moved into her newly-renovated house in Melville; it was completely blue. I mean everything that could be painted was a different shade of blue. The furniture was all blue, even the kitchen stuff was all blue. Angus used to invite me to the dinner parties held there, I think partly from friendship and partly because he wanted another layman for company. Instead of falling in with thieves, I had inadvertently fallen in with doctors.
One in particular became a friend. Will: trained at Cambridge University and working for peanuts at Baragwanath-Chris Hani Provincial Hospital. As the chief of gynaecological surgery nogal. But Will was a wannabe. He loved the concept of being a soldier even though the only time he fired a weapon, a 9 mm, he hated the feeling and the noise, and he hated the idea of people getting hurt. We used to meet often for breakfast at a café in Melville: the Full Stop Café. He often brought work mates: other doctors and nursing sisters. I have never met a pretty nurse, only on TV.
One day we were all sitting down to breakfast and a beautiful, dark-haired woman walked up to our table and plonked herself down, demanding orange juice and complaining in a very sexy accent about a hangover. Thus, I met Maria. Will was going on about military matters and I was sitting quietly listening, always quiet when first meeting people, with woman that attract me, even more so. And I liked this one. The olive skin, long dark hair and a Hispanic accent to die for, what wasn’t to like? She downed her orange juice and demanded food, moaning about a terrible hangover. Will was still holding court and as I was wearing a cammo cut-off shirt and sporting a military tattoo, this volatile woman zeroed in on me. She went off about how ignorant, stupid, and a few other non complimentary things soldiers, and mercenaries in particular, were. My very first words to Dr. Maria Jose Fernandez were, ‘Fuck you, don’t put me in a box.’ She got ready to leave shortly after; as she was leaving I gave her my business card and told her to call me. This did not happen. What a surprise.
One morning when I was having breakfast with Will and co. Maria arrived in much the same fashion as the last time. I told her she was very rude not to have phoned me. In her broken English and very sexy accent she apologised and I left it at that. Later that afternoon she called and asked if I would like to join her in Melville for coffee. Yes! It was a forty kilometre drive from my house but I would gladly have travelled twice as far. We met and chatted, just getting to know one another. She was in South Africa in order to give lectures at various universities, on Chemical Engineering for heaven’s sake! So she was not a medical doctor like the majority of the Melville crowd.  This clever girl had a life-time position at a university in Alicante, southern Spain. She also had a boyfriend, Corrine, in England. She was supposed to be hopelessly in love with this chap; further investigation showed it was not a two way street.
We wandered around Melville and stopped at a bar that featured a band; she drank beer from the bottle, I was on coffee. During the course of the evening Maria was dancing in her chair, very upbeat. She reached over and took my hand. Huh. Mixed signals here, what about Corrine? Never mind, this was one sexy lady and physical contact with her set my toes, and some other things, tingling.  We left in the early hours, she to a commune full of foreign doctors and me to my large house, alone. I received a hug and a kiss on the cheek, very confusing. The next day she called again, asking me to meet her in Melville that evening. We met up and Will joined us. As both of these foreigners liked the bush, I suggested the three of us go on a camping trip at the weekend. I had all the camping equipment we would need.
To be continued……..
From the Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief II.

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Facebook Cat Photo

I first received this warning a few years back and was in a quandary as what to do!
It is well known that I do not care much for domestic cats at all, never mind these pathetic “cute” photos that people post all the time. So I did a little research on how Facebook monitors my activity. It would seem it is not humans that do this, something called Bots is checking up on me! Never mind, these Bots are not that sharp, they have trouble in recognizing images for one thing. They also read any script attached to the photo and the file. My problem was solved! I began posting photographs of very sexy women, and just called them …. Cats. With a capital C, always. Seems Bots are not the only stupid things on the internet though. Some people fail to see the difference between a cat and MY Cats.
Sample of some Cat photographs I have posted.

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Serenity

American writer Max Ehrmann (1872–1945) wrote the prose poem "Desiderata" in 1927

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.

Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy

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A Dangerous Encounter cont.

Shanti has taken to phoning me every day, I divide the situation, or potential situation into two modes. One is the “can’t” mode; this is where she tells me all the reasons why she and I cannot have an affair. The other is the “has to” mode; here she does not say that we might, or she would like to, she gives a whole bunch of reasons why it is imperative that we have an affair. Amongst all the chaos at the Backpackers with Jaco and his drama, never underestimate The Mexican Horse Thief ability to make his own chaos, quietly and discreetly so no-one else knows. The situation with Jaco and his woman, and then he and Anthony have repercussions, some people that were booked in for a few days leave after one.
One night Gordon picked me up in order to go to and art opening, yes, Shanti would be there, we left Jaco playing Mafia Wars.  Gordon tells me Shanti has told our friend Johan that she just wants to make “wild passionate, animal love to me”, he asks me what is happening. I truthfully tell him I do not know, flying by the seat of my pants. I asked Gordon what Johan said, he tells me Johan told Shanti to “Go for it.” I spend the evening talking to Shanti. By now the whole art crowd is aware that something is up, although Rupert seems oblivious, or just does not care.
A few days later Shanti asks me for a date.  Shanti sends me an SMS that she will be late; 5pm is the new time set. I am on a mission; I will succeed and leave this place behind me, but Shanti is a complication a very pretty one but a complication none the less. Shanti arrives in Rupert’s car. We are …uncomfortable with each other, or is it just me. We go to a restaurant; before we walk in she says how happy she is with Rupert and I am wondering if this is true, why is she here, right now, with me?  She gets a phone call, I wait. I then ask before we walk in I ask if is she going to tell me something that will make me unhappy. She says no. Nice restaurant, but we are not talking as before. Again is it just me. I give her a hug in the parking lot. It is awkward. We get back to Sunnyside. I get out; I lean in the car window and tell her there is so much I wish to say, she replies “I know.” This is bullshit, I do not like it, I tell her this.
I believe that this is the end of this… complication, not so. The next day Shanti has sent me a message, “ I like you. You make me feel alive and you are sexy. Many things I wished to say to you but could not cause would feel like I am cheating.” I tell myself, “No good will come of this Mexican.” But she is a very attractive young woman and the temptation is too much. I make it through the day with no serious disasters then a 12pm I get an SMS. “Are you awake?” Shanti. I send one back that indeed I am. Shanti phones me immediately. Long story short, she says, that she is addicted to me, she wants to just hire a room. She is a very straight forward girl! Eish. She tells me she fantasizes about me, lots of stuff.  She just can’t say goodbye. She is still in Jo’burg but has plan, when back in Pretoria, to see me before work. Finally she says, “I love you”

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A Dangerous Encounter

The next time I saw Shanti it was, as usual, at an art function. Gordon was the opening speaker. As soon as I saw Shanti walking up the drive I became aware that my heart was beating faster and so was my breathing. I thought, “Shit, Mexican, you are not sixteen, this girl has someone and she is twenty fucking years younger than you. Get a bloody grip man!” She walked right up to me and gave me a brilliant smile, “Hello.” Shit! Rupert disappeared almost immediately, Gordon went to check on his speech and we were left alone. We walked together into the gallery, joining the crowd waiting for Gordon’s speech. During the speech she stood just in front of me, I could see over her head. Man, I thought is it my imagination or is there that crazy electricity between us that I have only read and heard about. Half way through the speech Shanti moved slightly backward and leaned against me. Eish! When she left she gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
The New Year’s party.
Shanti walks onto the roof, looking good, tight short black skirt and a blood red blouse. Oh, she does have a nice body to go with the pretty face! We end up speaking the night away, interrupted not by Rupert but by Chris! He is putting on the charm much better, I see out of the corner of my eye Gordon is having a good laugh. Huh. I am not a nice guy, I do not play nice. As soon as Chris goes to get more booze for himself, as I knew he must, I say to Shanti, “Watch out for Chris, he is a charmer, he and I have a long history. Long ago, while he was married, he fucked my wife.” And leave it just there, when Chris returns seconds later he is puzzled by Shanti’s sudden coolness. Bang, bang. That sorted I had the girl to myself for most of the evening and kissed her for the first time at Midnight.  Just before mid night there was an incident that ended up as funny but could have been a tragedy. Shanti and I were talking and saw a commotion on the far side of the roof; Angus came and called me, telling me I had better take a look. We moved to the edge of the roof and looked the five floors down. There, standing holding a bicycle sprocket with only one pedal still attached, and talking on a cell phone was David Jose, a guy I was at school with. Now downtown Johannesburg is no place for a white man to walk around alone, in the day time, never mind on New Year’s when all and sundry are drunk and aggressive.
He was surrounded by black guys but they seemed to be trying to help him. I looked at the buildings around us; Jose certainly had everyone’s attention.  A bottle from one of the roof tops crashed near Jose’s feet, he jumped and spoke franticly into the phone. Gordon standing next to me answered him. Jose was lost! I was watching all this with some interest, wondering if he would make the half block to the entrance of the studio alive or not. More bottles were being thrown in his direction and he would have to run the gauntlet, no other way out of his situation. I did not think he would make it; he was close to panic all ready. Angus came up to me and asked, “Is that not one of your old school mates Wayne? Don’t you think we had better go fetch him?” Shit, I did not think of that! I was just watching the drama, an observer. I said to Angus that this would be a good plan, told Shanti I would see her in a bit and left with Angus.  We ran the gauntlet to get to the idiot; fortunately most of the people were focused on Jose so the first few meters were peaceful. Then someone on a neighboring rooftop saw us, shouted and threw a bottle. That got a lot of other people interested in these two white boys and the bottles came down. We dodged and dived eventually getting some sort of shelter in the doorway where Jose was. I spoke to the men that were trying to protect him, Nigerians. If not for them Jose would have been dead. Now why these men would risk their own safety for a goofed out stupid white man I have no idea. Jose smokes marijuana like I smoke cigarettes; I have never seen him “straight”, even at school. His long time job at Out of Print bookshop is not too taxing so he just stays high and dabbles in his writing of poetry and stuff. We thanked the Nigerians and set off, Angus took hold of Jose and I brought up the rear, by now the rooftops and bottles were not the only problem, a crowd had gathered and a knife in the ribs was a strong possibility. We re-ran the gauntlet, now we had everyone’s attention and the bottles came hard and fast. Angus was charging very aggressively and the crown in front was opening up to let him through. We made it to the entrance and the guards quickly let us in. Made it, quick check on Jose, he was unscathed, not a scratch on the bastard.  He still clung to the sprocket and looked more goofed that he usually did. Angus and I were also unhurt, bloody miracle, what   with all that flying glass.
From The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief

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Sea Views - From a Different Angle

Did the "normal" panoramic shots of the coast, then reverted to my usual style, and looked at things, From a Different Angle. Here is what I saw.

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Photography 101

Sea Views - South Coast

There is a distinct difference between the coastal regions to the North and South of Durban. The vegitation is slightly different, for example the North has more and and larger trees. Then the beach sand itself, South is finer grains and less broken sea shells that on finds to the North.

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Sea Views North Coast

The North Coast of KwaZulu-Natal has a beauty that is unsurpassed. Here are a few photographs taken  with the only camera a have in my hand at present, a tiny little Cannon PowerShot A2400, hell my pack of smokes is bigger than this camera.

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Munchausen’s Box

I never knew or had even heard of Munchausen syndrome by proxy as a young child, hell, I did not even know the meaning of proxy. However I saw my mother trying to pull this stunt on me. Later as an adult I learned and read more about it, but until the other night, had never thought about parents passing on mental disorders to their children in this way.
To continue with the theory of boxes, my next observation is; people are not content with putting only themselves in boxes and the first victims of this boxed syndrome are their children.
The thought came to me as a newly diagnosed man and his wife were discussing, at length, his affliction. As usual they were putting themselves both in boxes, he in his Bi-Polar one and his wife in the Little Nurse one. Then the wife went on to say, within the hearing of her 12 year old daughter, “Peggy, has not got Bi-Polar yet, but when she gets older she will.” Just like that! Now not only have the parents decided that the child is sick, and believe me when she gets older a doctor will be only too happy to “confirm” this for them, but the child is already programmed to follow this destiny.
I sat and listened to this conversation absolutely horrified.
Now already I have taken a lot of flak from other articles I have written about my opinion on this Bi-Polar thing. I have no qualifications to state that it does not exist, and indeed, believe that some people may have a disease that fits the description the medical profession has stated as fact,  I also believe that they would be a minuscule percentage   of the people walking around that are totally sure that they are ill.
This conclusion is made by observation and then actually using my brain to think and question and not just accept. The first clue I got that Bi-Polar was a Munchausen Box was; after attending an AA Group for 6 years, every week, once a week, one of the regular members caught Bi-Polar. Within one year 90+% of that group also had it! I eventually left that group and later the AA because the meeting became a forum of what drugs to take for Bi-Polar more that how to fix oneself in order to break the problem with alcohol. Bi-Polar has spread like wildfire though the AA, every now and then I attend a group, and find the same problem, from Masina to Cape Town.
By these observations one can see that this “disease” is spread like a virus, only it is carried by the power of the word not a gogga.

Final observation.
In the discussion the man was listing all his symptoms of this sickness that he believes he has. Ranging from losing his temper, to slipping into black holes, insomnia and depression and a host of other nasty things. I thought that he was talking about me 16 years ago!
Just I got put into a box called Alcoholism.
Final Question
How much money are the big pharmaceutical companies making out of this con?

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From a Different Angle #

I have often heard a photographer say of a great photograph, “Oh if I had that guys equipment I could also take great photos.”

I do not believe this is true. I hit the streets for a few hours with a small camera, and while I cannot claim any of these photographs are great, I will concede that they are not too shabby. A lot to do of why they are not bad is; look at things......

From a Different Angle

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Christmas Box and Apartheid

The bad old Apartheid Regime of South Africa,  as the world is SO aware, everything about it was bad and had to be gotten rid of.
There was one tradition, if I may call it that, and was known as Christmas Box. This was when everyone, in the White suburbs gave a present to the service people. Mainly I remember the Dustbin Boys, the men that collected the rubbish. This time of year they would wait at the gate and people would come out and give them their year end present. It could be money, clothing or food. I see people are leaving goods out today for these men.
A few years I went to a function and the guard at the gate asked for a Christmas Box, I gave that some thought. After a minute or so I explained to him that Christmas Box was a part of the terrible Apartheid Era, and we had put all that behind us, and the Christmas Box had to go with all the other stuff, Pass Laws etc, because we were a New South Africa. He did not like that and insisted that I give him his Christmas Box as if it was his right as a Black Man to get this from me, a White Man. This was not going to happen, but he would not open the gate until he got what he thought was his due. At this point my politeness was lost and I told him to go ask Mandela and the  *^#! ANC for a Christmas Box and if he did not open the gate I would Bliksem him. So much for my Christmas spirit.
Call me strange by when you get rid of something you get rid of it completely, and don’t just keep the parts you liked. Anyhow the New Apartheid laws, like BEE, both the President and the leader of the opposition party, Malema, calling for the death of all Whites, and the Farm Murders have made me not so kindly disposed to the average Black man I see on the street.

That is not racist, it falls squarely under SELF PRESERVATION.

Merry Xmas South Africa.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

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Short Story.

The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.

Photography 101

From a Different Angle 19

Back to the Bushveld. I found this dry river bed, now they are always interesting places to go check out. I got  photographs of some of the wildlife that frequents places like this and then looked at things, from a different angle.
The first photograph is not really from a different angle, but gives you an idea of the terrain. The second one is.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.
This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:
The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?

Short Story.

The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.
Photography 101

From a Different Angle 18

While wandering around the Grasslands of Mpumalanga, South Africa, I took a day to look at a different type of grass they grow in the area. Wheat. I took a lot of photographs and made an album called Wheatbix, you would have to be a South African to catch the humour. Never mind.
While the landscape photographs were beautiful in their own right, of course I took a few, from a different angle.

 Here is but one.

An overview of the farm.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.
This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:
The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?

Short Story.

The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.

From a Different Angle 17

Wandering in the grasslands around Badplaas I took hundreds of photos, the place is a nature photographers dream. Birds, flowers, snakes, frogs, breathtaking landscapes and a zillion different types of insect. Those are all standard type photographs, but an abandoned half built house gave me the opportunity to take this, a view… from a different angle.

A discarded piece of rope, not very exciting, but the fact that it looks like the number 7 caught my attention. Another number may not have, but things seem to happen to me in sevens. On the seventh day of the seventh month I entered the Seventh South African Infantry to do basic training. That done I bought an erf, the house I built on it, became number 7 Stork Ave. I lived with a woman for 7 years before we got married, I joined the AA and remained sober, for 7 years…. the list goes on.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.
This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:
The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.
The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?

Short Story.
The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.

Photography 101

From a Different Angle 16

Living in an isolated spot in the bush, most of the photographs I took were of the small animals that visited me. Then one misty morning my damn washing caught my eye and this is the resulting shot.

At another time, waiting for my friend that was having her hair done, pretty bored, I saw this reflection. Now most of my “reflection” shots tend to be of the reflection animals are casting in the water while drinking. Stepped out of the box a little bit here, not even sure I like it.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.

This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:

The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?

Short Story.
The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.

Photography 101

From a Different Angle 15

Staying indoors for the main shot, that was taken in a semi-abandoned factory, these windows provided a whole series of shots which I called: Through Dirty Windows. Some where good enough for stand alone and others I incorporated into some Photo-Art along with other photos from my files.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.

This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:

The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?

Short Story.

The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.

Photography 101

From a Different Angle 14

We will go indoors for a change, a Catholic Church, in the neighborhood caught my attention. Quite a few photographs emerged from this mission and were used to make some Photo-Art.
The pulpit was a very busy, not pleasing to the eye, photograph but I kept it and later made the Dove of Peace for a blog article from it.

At Photography 101 we will  show you how to LOOK, first with your own eyes and only then through the view finder. Some people have a gift, they not only think, but also see, From a Different Angle.  I believe the two are inter-related and that in order to SEE, one first has to THINK…..from a different angle. And that is what we shall teach you way beyond just the basic skills.
This is an educational club where amateurs and professionals can join and share Techniques and Photo’s join our competitions and market your product to Magazines and Websites Developers, Locally and International. It is an educational based club hosted run and managed by:

The Mexican and Bierpens.

Of Interest

Please do check out my page and if you decide to “like” it, I shall be well pleased.

The Mexican Horse Thief

Get quality backlinks. The Gravy Train  

Niume seems to be the best microblogging platform available at present, why not give them a try?
Short Story.

The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I – Angola

On line Photographic Club with a difference.
Photography 101