(Devil’s Peak is part of the mountainous backdrop to Cape Town)
The circus school and its demise that were the spark for the body of work I produced for the exhibition was in
the shadow of Devil’s Peak. I still live in its shadow and lose my thoughts in its nooks and crannies from the
table at home where I write. Thoughts and dreams drift over and above its silhouette - represented by the hot air
balloons in the painting.
The circus tent is as I remember it in its glory days.
It is me on the rolling globe trying hard to stop myself from falling into the Liesbeek river.

(The last act or manifestation of someone or something; farewell act)
A memory from childhood. Just before the civil war began in Mozambique.
In Lorenzo Marques (Maputo) I must have been 4. It was early evening. We were staying in a hotel with rooms
around a courtyard. My siblings and I had been left in the room and a party was happening in the courtyard, a
live band struck up and from the doorway we watched in awe as waiters ran around with seafood platters held
high above their heads and patrons ate and laughed and danced tipsy in the night. A man appeared blowing
glass trinkets. He saw our faces peeping out from the darkened doorway of the room and came over, stitched
cheeks pulled in a grin against a backdrop of coloured cafe lights and a happy crowd. He puffed his cheeks and
blew a swan. Kneeling down he handed me the trinket and disappeared into the night.

(Bye-bye Miss American Pie - Don McClean)
Parts of this song looped through my head when I painted this work, especially the line ‘the day the music
died’. I thought of the association of music and memory, that things remain alive in my memory bank as long as
I can hear the music, and that if the music were to stop, all would come to a grinding halt - the magical animals
on the carousel would take the gap and run for the hills and there would be a void left in their wake.
“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile, And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance, And maybe they'd be happy for a while”
“Did you write the book of love, and do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so? Now do you believe in rock and roll, can music save your mortal soul, And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”
“I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck, With a pink carnation and a pickup truck, But I knew I was out of luck, The day the music died”
“I met a girl who sang the blues, and I asked her for some happy news, But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before, But the man there said the music wouldn't play”
“And in the streets, the children screamed, The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed, But not a word was spoken, The church bells all were broken”
“And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died”

A paracosm is a detailed imaginary world thought generally to originate in childhood. The creator of a paracosm has a complex and deeply felt relationship with this subjective universe, which may incorporate real-world or imaginary characters and conventions.
Commonly having its own geography, history, and language, it is an experience that is often developed during childhood and continues over a long period of time, months or even years, as a sophisticated reality that can last into adulthood.