Distance travelled divided by the time of travel.
v = d/t
v is the speed f the object
d is the distance from the objects starting position to the position of the object after t has ellapsed
t is time
Distance travelled divided by the time of travel.
v = d/t
v is the speed f the object
d is the distance from the objects starting position to the position of the object after t has ellapsed
t is time
Acceleration is the change in speed divided by the time it akes to make that change
a = V1 -V0
V0 represents the starting speed
V1 represents the speed when t has elapsed
t is time
Decelleration is when V0 > V1
If t is measured in seconds and speed is also measured in seconds and meters,
the unit of measurement for acceleration can be determined as m/(s*s)
That is meters per second squared
I packed the past seven years of my life into my car and left Muizenburg on a Wednesday. It was overcast and the day had a sombre atmosphere about it. I’d actually planned to leave Cape Town several days before but Gidon and I were having so much fun at his place in Muizenburg hanging out on the beach with the three dogs Ling, Millie, and Josh that I didn’t really feel too much of a rush to leave. But at the same time I really felt like I couldn’t stay any longer. Not because I was not welcomed, or because neither Gidon or I had any money to pay the three months back log of rent and subsequently were being evicted but simply because it was “overs ke-dovers” as I sometimes tend to some up certain situations. I felt change in my life and I didn’t want to resist it, I was interested to see where I would land up if I just threw caution to the wind.
I’d been on a few holidays around the Western Cape from the age of about 6, but since I’d moved to Cape Town I had no reason to be hindered by geographical distance, lack of finances (not that I had any, but that was exactly the point) or anything else that should stop a rational person from taking regular holidays throughout the Western Cape. Some of my previous trips had taken me to the tip of Africa, where I came across a ship wreck and met a talented young artist that had a knack for getting in trouble (or causing it). I’d driven on countless dirt roads that went to nowhere towns like Malgas which had seen their heydays centuries before my arrival. I’d even experienced a pontoon crossing in my Toyota Tazz, across the Breda river, an experience that came to me as a total surprise when luckily I had the sense to not simply drive into the river as is often a city boy’s first instinct (I mean how deep can it be?). But this trip was different it didn’t feel like a normal holiday, it felt medicinal. Like something that was hard to swallow, but good for you at the same time.
I left early in the morning and by the time it was midday, and I was far from Cape Town (well not that far cause I like to cruise, take’n it slow and easy) the clouds had cleared up and so too had the sombre atmosphere of the morning which had been replaced with a sense of excitement and anticipation. I had no particular route planned just a general idea of the direction I was heading, subsequently my journey took me from Cape town to Stellenbosch, Worcester, then Robertson and finally to Montagu for that day. Along the way I took the time to stop off at various wine estates and make several purchases.
I remember an instance when I saw an interesting looking dirt road that went to a particular wine estate somewhere between Stellenbosch and Robertson. Driving slow is great because I would never have seen this road had I been driving fast and it also gives me the liberty to safely turn off the main road onto dirt roads when ever the moment takes me. Which is exactly what I did. I turned down the dirt road and drove a small distance. At which point I decided to stop my car and get out, perhaps to stretch my legs, enjoy the scenery or water the shrubbery I can’t remember why I stopped at that particular spot. I noticed that there was something out of place amongst the rocks on the side of the dirt road, something that stood out. The closer I went to investigate the more certain I became that I was staring at the empty shell of a tortoise. The tortoise that had been living in that shell had long since been dead, but as such the shell was alive with ants and other inspects. I don’t always collect every beautiful item I come across in nature (in fact it’s not often that I remove anything unnecessarily from nature) but I had a feeling that this tortoise meant something to me. So I wrapped it in a plastic bag after dusting it off and eventually brought it home with me…
Clearly the drastic changes I’d enlisted over the past few weeks had not been satisfactory, because I didn’t stop at simply moving out of my room in the Gardens suburb what followed were a spate of continuous upheavals that went on for several months. It wasn’t all bad though, as I did manage to make some really good friends during this period like Justin, Gidon and Bongo.
My friend Jason had left the country to go to Sydney for a month long holiday. During this period I moved into Jason’s apartment in Gardens (basically about three or four blocks up the hill from my old place). Justin lived next door to Jason, and we became friends pretty much instantly. He was the only other person I’d met in Cape Town that had musical tastes similar to my own, beside my friend Gidon. Both of them were just about to rediscover just how small a place the world can sometimes be. Gidon and I used to jam together regularly he plays Cello and I play the electric guitar. We made sound installations we called “aural landscapes”. Funnily enough we actually managed to gather a bit of momentum out of our project we simply started for kicks and eventually landed a gig at an intellectual book evening at the National Library. I use the word intellectual as it was easy enough to identify that the crowd was not something Gidon and I would normally collectively associate with. But we had a good time and our cacophony of sound walls with over-intensified distortion and soothing Cello legato’s was actually received quite well by members of the younger crowd who invited our collective which we were now calling GLIJ to play at various other events such as private parties and art events.
Gidon and I playing at the National Gallery, in Cape Town
Here’s a pic I drew when I was staying at Gidon’s house in Muizenburg
The first time Gidon came around to Jason’s flat to visit me, I introduced him to Justin and we all got along really well talking about obscure contemporary Japanese music like The Boredoms, Melt Banana and Merzbow. When Gidon left Justin said to me,
“I’m sure I know that guy he seems really familiar…”
Gidon was born in South Africa but moved to the States when he was quite young. He returned to South Africa several times in his adult life and eventually started a free acupuncture clinic in town. Later we discovered that the reason Gidon seemed so familiar to Justin was because in an entirely unrelated incident they briefly lived in the same house, many years prior to us meeting at Jason’s flat and eventually forming GLIJ.
So how did Sinead land up with the skull? Well I had to fly back to Cape Town shortly after that trip to the berg and Nik and Carmen headed back to the UK, so Sinead was given the skull to look after. I was planning on coming back to Durban soon enough at which point retrieving the skull was high on my agenda. When I eventually returned to Cape Town in March of 2010 after a 3 month holiday in KZN, I was undeniably feeling a little unsettled having to end my holiday and return to the Cape. My holidays stay aways from Cape Town had been getting increasingly longer as they initially started off just being a casual weekend away, then gradually over a period of seven years began to stretch out over several months strung together and sometimes up to four holidays a year! It was eventually becoming more evident that not being in Cape Town was preferable to being there. This preference manifested the curious unsettling feeling that only materialized after a few days of being in Cape Town when I eventually returned to my familiar outhouse room and routine existence (not that I have ever followed much of a routine existence). It probably was not really anything to do with Cape Town itself that made me feel so unsettled as I was pretty used to Cape Town by now and it had become very familiar to me in a gregorios sort of way. The problem was however exactly that, the familiarity and certainty that I was settling into within Cape Town. The reality of the situation was however quite different as I was not really tied down to anything and had no real reason to feel trapped or a victimized by circumstances. Nonetheless within about two weeks of arriving back at my familiar outhouse room in Gardens that I’d been living in for the past five years I left without the slightest hesitancy…
I left Kokstad that morning after finishing my Wimpy breakfast to head down to Durban, feeling very alive and like I’d been given a second lease on life. I know (and I’ve been told many times) that I’m such a “lucky boy”, but the drive from Kokstad to Durban gave me time to reflect on the previous days drive from Hogsback to Kokstad and reflecting helped clarify any uncertainties I might have had on popular perception regarding my recurring interactions with “luck”.
My previous day’s driving experience and harrowing escape from an unforeseeable disaster which would have certainly ended with catastrophic consequences, had it not been for some healthy portion of luck to help me evade a serious car accident, certainly played a significant contribution to the way I felt this current morning. Nothing could have brought me down that day.
But just to be clear on what I was experiencing that morning, I hear people attest to how ironic it is having an experience that brought them close to death would be followed with an insurgence of energy and a profound love of life. This is exactly what I was not feeling.
I generally feel energetic and passionate about living and I don’t need a harrowing experience with death to remind me how much I love living, as a result the feeling I was experiencing was actually more to do with the “NEW” understanding I had come into and the feeling of satisfaction that it was something that simply come to me. The near fatal car accident that I’d managed to escape was only part of the experience that brought me to this understanding and not a true representation of the whole picture (which is in fact my life), I’m no adrenaline junkie.
Having a clear mind this morning and a well deserved rest the previous night, gave me a means of clearly distinguishing and isolating what I felt in contrast to the previous day. I sincerely appreciate this kind of distinctive clarification, as the lines of experience and how I feel from one day to the next can sometimes get a little blurry. I knew I was going to see my old friends today Marcel, Micheal and Sinead and (as good friends are) they were going to listen to me, pay attention to my unexplainable experiences and also take into consideration that they “knew” me in every moment we spent together and that also made me feel good.
I arrived in Durban and went straight to Sinead’s house. Marcel was already on his way over there and Micheal (not having a car) would join us when he got there. We talked about a lot of different things but I particularly remember the conversation about my collection of animal skulls I’d collected over the years from various hikes in different areas of South Africa. Many people know about my collection of animal skulls, I guess it’s something quite strange for a vegan/vegetarian who loves animals to casually acquire.
I recall a skull that Sinead had which a friend of mine and her’s had asked her to keep. The means by which that particular skull had been acquired for me were inordinately coincidental as the story went… I’d arranged too stay at a cottage in Cobham at the Drakensberg with a researcher friend of mine, making arrangements for my Durban friends to get there had proved to be more difficult than I’d anticipated and subsequently I had to leave Maritzburg for the Drakensberg with only having made tentative arrangements with my Durban friends regarding how they were getting to the researchers cottage we were staying at, Sinead was one of the friends. So I left for the Drakendberg not knowing whether I was going to see my Durban friends join me up there or not, but hoping that it would be the former because I knew we would have had a fantastic time up there together. Nonetheless, on the day that my Durban friends were tentatively scheduled to arrive at Cobham my friend Vicky (the researcher) and I got back to the Cobham camp site from a short walk up to a Bushmen rock art site in the area. We were crossing a stream when I noticed a young person who from the back looked just like my friend Sinead I was expecting. Her hair was long, a similar color (given that hair color changes considerably fast between myself and my friends) and slightly wavy just like Sineads the clothes she was also wearing were also very much like that of the clothes I’ve know Sinead to wear in the past. So naturally I called out to her,
I was obviously really happy to see her and the girl turned around to reveal an attractive but unfamiliar face.
“Oh, sorry I thought you were someone …”
And before I could finish the sentence, the person she was with suddenly blurted out my name with a distinctive exclamation indicating surprise in it’s purist sincerity. Startled by the unexpected identification, my attention suddenly turned to the tall, lean, male figure with the unfamiliar mystery girl.
“Bevis, what a happy surprise!”
I blurted out, once I became aware of the situation and strange coincidence. It turned out that some very old friends of mine who I had not seen in years had just happened to be at the exact camp site I happen to be at, at the exact time I was there too. If it had not been for that exact moment in time we could have been at the same place and never known it, because I probably would not have gone down to the camp site as we were staying at the researchers hut which was separate from the camp site. But the surprises did not stop there, it turns out that the attractive, mystery girl with my friend Bevis is very good friends with my friend Sinead. In fact I also met Bevis many years prior through Sinead, and we have always since remained friendly with each other and enjoy each other’s company. Bevis and Talitha (the mystery girl) also revealed that they were there camping with very old friends of mine, Nikhil and Carmen (two people who’s company I thoroughly enjoy). It turns out that their being there had nothing to do with Sinead informing them and was just a strange and very welcomed coincidence. Needless to say the six of us spent the next few days having an absolutely magical time at the berg, the weather was warm and fantastic for swimming in the icy cold berg rivers, we made fires in the cool nights and delicious suppers with ample social time to catch up.
It was Nikhil and Carmen that found the skull. It seemed like it might be the skull of a waterbuck or some other large buck. On the day we were leaving they went for a walk and wondered off the trail for a while. When they reappeared they had the skull with them, and Carmen said looking at me with her beautiful dreamy green eyes,
“This is for you”
It’s not often that I’ve been able to accurately pin-point events culminating to a climatic change in my system of thought. But this particular morning was definitely different, it brought with it a sense of profound change in understanding. Not to harp on the whole issue of money too much but one of the great things about money is that it is easily quantifiable to so many different groups of individuals on a global level. For example we can all collectively agree on the physical value of $100 (at a given point in time) but trying to quantify an idea or understanding is allot more complicated. So it made sense to me that my understanding of the embodiment of “energy” represented itself to me in the context of something easily quantifiable that being money.
Basically, what I’m getting at here is that for the past seven years (and possibly more). I’d really been antagonistic towards the acquisition of money. I’d somehow managed to work out a system of living in a city (Cape Town) without needing very much or any money at all. I’d developed a network of supportive friends over the years, for who I am truly grateful for, who had come to understand my ideology regarding living “freely”. Which basically meant not having a job, not working for any cause that I truly did not believe in (which meant turning down many high paying advertising jobs on a regular basis) and simply taking each moment as it comes.
Fundamentally, my “NEW” understanding has not changed these ideals very much, but what has changed is that I no longer feel the need to devote my energy and time to resisting the acquisition of money. To simplify things it can be likened to the difference between playing a game simulating these ideals in which there is always the exciting possibility of winning or the driving determination not to lose, this can be contrasted to my current state of mind which is more akin to simply living my life which does not play out like a game or a simulation and as a result I do not have the insight to look far ahead enough to know whether I am winning or losing or to know how idealistic I am being or not.
This “NEW” understanding, I’m referring to is very simple and actually quite old fashioned (especially when you think of it in terms of trade)…
money is simply another manifestation of energy.
And like all forms of energy that humans require or desire how we choose to direct that energy is up to us.
This occurred to me while having a breakfast at the Wimpy in Kokstad.
I woke up this morning feeling like a million bucks! Which was a little strange for me because my state of mind, no matter how elated I feel is usually not quantifiable in terms of money. But this particular morning was different. It was different not because I’d stumbled upon a means of making copious amounts of cash in my sleep, or anything really to do directly with money. It was just simply a new found feeling of respect and appreciation for money as what I’ve come to recognise as an embodiment of “energy”. This understanding started in a simple dream i had the previous night. I dreamt my friend Gidon and I were at a party and a waiter approached us to take a drinks order. I ordered a Black Label and Gidon was uninterested in the waiter so I ordered him a Peroni.
I’m sure this can be interpreted on many different levels but at the time, I feel that, it was most significant to a value system that I unconsciously attached to myself. For example, in my dream I could have ordered any drink I wanted because it was a dream money was not an issue. I did not particularly want the drink that I ordered for myself but chose it purely on the grounds of affordability. This was particularly relevant because the previous day’s adventurous expedition had lead me to wake up that morning in a rather pricey hotel in Kokstad and I thought before I went to sleep that night I was going to wake up in the morning hating myself for having spent so much on accommodation for that night. But, my sentiments turned out to be the opposite of that.
It was strange that the first thoughts that I reflected on that morning were about money when money had not been something I’d given much thought to for the past few weeks travelling up-country on an extended journey from Cape Town to Pietermaritzburg. I had been getting quite used to waking up in a hut at the top of a mountain overlooking the Hogsback Mountain Range in the Eastern Cape, over the past few days. Kokstad is hardly a city but it felt like I was adapting to modern
civilization, that morning.
The transition was actually surprisingly quite smooth and Kokstad was definitely a choice place for my mindset’s adaptation to the “new”.
I was born in Pietermaritzburg, attended three schools there then moved to Durban to study Fine Arts at what was then known as Natal Technikon (and currently known as Durban Institute of Technology). I then moved to Jo’burg to continue studying 3D animation. Back to Durban to start working in web design, then back to Jo’burg to continue my carrier in 3D animation. For the past seven years I’ve been living in Cape Town, and moved back to Maritzburg about a year ago. This is the story of how I left Cape Town to return to maritzburg.