Oor tapisseriewerk

My meisiekind karring aan my om my hare ‘interessant’ te kleur. Sy dink ek sal mooi lyk met ligblou of turkoois. Ek dink die halwe grys in my hare wat nou oraloor plek uitsteek sal eers moet oorneem totdat my hare heel wit is, miskien sal ek dit dan kleur.


Dit laat my onthou toe ek tien geword het. Ek het ‘n tapisserie lap gekry as verjaarsdag present by my ouers. Die geverfde gesig van ‘n jong meisie met bloedrooi hare, pienk lippe en ‘n helder groen bloes was uitgemeet en ingekleur oor die lap, blokkie-gaatjie, blokkie-gaatjie. Ek moes stukkies wol een vir een deur die gekleurde gaatjies van die lap ryg met ‘n stomp borduurnaald, dan knoop aan die agterkant, terugryg en uiteindelik afknip aan die voorkant. Totdat al die stukkies wol saam ‘n sagte tosselagtige afbeelding van die meisie se gesig kon vorm. Ek was ongeduldig om uit te kom by die rooi hare wat onseremonieel in ‘n los bolla op haar kop met ‘n dun pienk lint
vasgebind was. Die tapisserie het lank gevat om klaar te maak.


Hierdie jaar het ook lank gevat om klaar te maak. Maar dit was nie ‘n slegte lank nie. Dit was ‘n intensionele tydsame jaar, waarin ek alles wat ek aanpak met aandag kon bekyk. Is wat ek doen nodig? Is hoe ek dit doen sinvol? Is dit lekker? Wat se invloed het dit op ander? Laat dit my rus terwyl ek werk? Voed dit my siel? Hoe inspireer dit ander? Inspireer dit my? Hoe help dit ander? Help dit my? Ek het meer dinge gedoen, maar ook meer tyd gehad om te besef dat ek bereid is om met minder klaar te kom, as dit waaraan ek tyd spandeer vir my ‘n mooier tapisserie gee.


Ek het nou tyd om twee koppies koffie te drink voor werk en om eers by die venster uit te kyk na die son en die geel vinke se handewerk. Om navorsingsartikels met aandag deur te lees en verbaas te wees dat al my idees alreeds wetenskaplik bewys is. Om in die middel van die week saam met my meisiekind wyn te proe. Om te skryf, te lees, te sing en tee te drink in die tuin saam met kat. Ek het tyd om ander se stories te hoor, oor my eie te dink en dankbaar te wees vir ‘n jaar wat lank vat.


Ek wonder nou net wat van my tapisserie geword het? En oor my hare. Ek dink ek moet dit in die nuwe jaar bloedrooi kleur, en met ‘n pienk lint vasdraai in ‘n hoë bolla.


Oor jou: Hoe lyk die stukkies wol in jou tapisserie? Wat wil jy anders borduur? Geniet
jou nuwe jaar, tydsaam.


Kyk ook op Instagram by:
lili_cronje (Afrikaans)
lilibeth_cronje (Engels)

About snow

I always thought snow was white. But then a friend who has been to Antarctica told me that the snow there is mostly blue and pink, just like candyfloss, with blue sky on the horizon and above it pink. That must be beautiful, I thought.


The colour of the snow started me thinking about the lens through which I view life. A while ago there was no noticeable colour, everything was almost transparent, like nothing. Strange that I also didn’t feel anything, except when there was a touch of grey. Then I was heartsore about everything that was difficult and my body was weary. Slow. Sometimes life looked blue, a melancholy blue, and the snow was colourless.


Until I decided to buy pink glasses. On sale for just R20! They had a rosepink frame and soft-pink lenses and sat lightly on my nose. When I looked through them, everything was rosecoloured and I could feel love and care and tolerance. I could see plans that would work and new ideas and I felt happiness and hope once again. Even the snow on the peaks looked pink and the sky blue and purple and orange against it.


Wearing my pink glasses I can see the colour of the life lenses of the people around me. The waiter from up in Africa wears light-green glasses. He says his name is Talent and he has the talent to take care of us. He refills our empty glasses with water and shakes out our white napkins. He cares and his body says he is patient. I see the yellow glasses of the friend who carries sunshine inside her. She is always laughing and sings along with life’s song, even though she is sometimes tired and heartsore. I see the peaceful blue of my husband’s glasses, a man who is never rushed and always thinks things through. He keeps a healthy balance between sitting still and being active. And I see the transparent grey lenses of those around me who need a new start, but are too afraid to choose it.


And there are also those who wear pink glasses. Like the woman at the flower market who bought a protea for me because I didn’t have enough cash in my purse. And the man with the wide smile at the supermarket who is sure I will give him R10 so he can buy bread, and the packer at the vegetable shop who started work early this morning and who wants to know how my day is going.


I came to the conclusion that the colour of life depends on the colour of the glasses that we put on and I am grateful that I now have rosetinted glasses through which to look. Because through the pink I can see that grey and white and yellow and blue and green and even black all have a touch of pink in them. And that snow really does have colour. The colour that I want to see.


About you:
What colour are your life lenses?