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SUMMER 2018

ISSUE 00


A

TEMPORARY INSTALLATION

A C O L L E C T I O N O F I L L U S T R AT I O N S & W R I T I N G S B Y S F U N D O M N G A D I & P A M E L A M V U YA N E


THANK YOU

I don’t know where to begin so I’m just going to say whatever comes to mind. Thank you to everyone who has inspired me during the process of creating this project, the ideas I came across on Pinterest and Behance which are the places I use when I need inspiration on how to execute the ideas I have during moments. I think the most precious gift we have as humans is that we can inspire others with the work that we create, so I highly appreciate everyone who’s work has inspired me one way or the other and I hope I can inspire someone with this personal project of mine which has been more about experimenting and learning more than anything else. I’m not used to telling people about my illustrations because they always feel personal to me and I can’t explain to people what each piece mean. Most of these pieces are based on certain moments in my life whether in that moment I felt sad or happy, conflicted or questioning society’s rules, I hope these writings by Pam will give you an idea about these pieces. She’s always curious enough to ask what each piece means, so I think she also influenced me towards creating this project with her curiosity. Accidentally I called her to do the writings because she’s always curious about each piece that I create plus it’s also an experiment for her to get used to writing beautiful sh*t. If you’re reading this that means I did finish this project and I posted it up online… thank you for being curious enough to go through this.

ENJOY


illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N iv


a flower I often look at the innocence of flowers and fancy them. They face the rays of the sun and go into hiding when it’s not there. I don’t have a choice, I have to be present Present in a world that is violent to my peace Chaos to my mind and destruction to my being. I am a man you see They have indoctrinated me Told me that to be a man I must not cry The world must not hear that I too suffer, that I too fall apart, that I too fancy to pierce my ears So that the sun can find reflections on the edge of my face. I no longer seek to exist in a world where emotion is binary, Emotion is venus and I am Jupiter, large, cold, dominate. I run to sunflower edge when I feel myself being torn apart. I float in the fantasy of being a flower, My cheeks would receive a dozen kisses from a butterfly. The very same butterfly that was once a caterpillar A slave to structure, upon itself it bought change. I am now a boy in this field and guess what I cry. The flower contorts itself chasing the rage of the blaring sun. I am immersed in the freedom of having shackles free. That’s what happens when I look at flowers That’s where the innocence of flowers take me.

By Pamela Mvuyane

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N v


illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N vi


gone under What if I ripped my eyes out cause I could not stand to see myself in such grief anymore? The melancholy formed a bond with my body, its presence stepped in the room before I did, claimed my name as a scrambled to conjure up bits of happiness with the alcohol that hit the back of my tongue. The joy came but it was short-lived, I yearned for younger days, days when joy wasn’t the equivalent of the days I’d have to conform to the slavery of the rat race, days when bills weren’t due, love was unconditional and my smile was real. Carved on my face with an authenticity which was testament to the artistry of God. Now all I do is drown.

By Pamela Mvuyane

“Often I feel overwhelmed by everything technology, social media and the demands of everyday life and in those times I switched off my phone for the whole day and I stay in bed with no intention to face the world or people. Often it feels like I’m drowning and the hardest thing when this happens is trying to be present but somehow I always have hope that tomorrow will feel better”

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N vii


my beloved blackness

I felt overwhelmed the other day when I had a realisation of how being black in this day is a new type of aesthetic. and how brands are capitalizing on that. illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N viii


my beloved blackness We wanted to reclaim our identity. We had been through the fire, a fire that engulfed us along with our culture, tradition and pride. A fire that ripped apart men who once stood tall, men whose skin glazed in the sunlight, melanin was the coat, a coat that our women wore with pride as afros that told tales of galaxies beyond, told of people of the sky who conquered the roots of the Baobab tree which bore witness to tribes before it. All we saw was a mystical object in the distance, the elders thought it was the fallen star that had been prophesied as the doom that would do away with our people like the lava did to the City of Pompei. The shriek that my sister let out as the pale man groped the divinity found in the midst of her thighs marked the end of Azania and the beginning of a new era, this birth like no other came with death. The ridicule, the roars of Kings as they held onto the last piece of self that they had became the music that taunted our days. We retaliated and died, we sang, we died, we cried, we died, hunger came, we died. Ghosts of our dignity hung around us it’s head hanged in shame as it gagged on the sight of men who once stood tall, once glistened in the African sun become pale as the toxins of the chemicals soaked in their skin. Chemicals that would rip apart any sign of our lineage, chemicals which would allow a seat at a table which was never really meant for us. The moon came and went, the eclipse that swallowed the sun, painting the sky black validating the shades of brown encompassing our bodies. We have risen, we had wanted to reclaim our identity, we didn’t take ourselves back with wars, we didn’t do it with hunger strikes nor did we do it with the same force that the men with boats did. We sought the power of self-affirmation in a world where we were not affirmed, we broke through, the shackles released. Now they take my image, they attempt to ride on the waves we created for ourselves. They curate me and sell me back to me, they pretend to love me like they did before when in fact we’ve been brought back to the human zoos that ruled during the times of the French. We are still held captive to their inquisitive yet destructive eye only this time the jail is digital.

“We soought the power of self-affirmation

By Pamela Mvuyane

in a world where we were not affirmed” A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N ix


VULNUS vulnerable

“ i think the most beautiful thing that you can find in this world is love, but it’s strange how what we refer to as love can also cause destruction in our lives as a way to teach us to not be too attached to others in a way that makes us lose ourselves and turn monsters, just because we fear that we are not in control of how others feel about us. I think soon as there’s a presence of fear in what we call love one kills the other because love and fear cannot co-exist”

illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N x


VULNUS vulnerable

Everything is busy now , why does it have to be so loud? Two, four letter words, We search for the one but find ourselves suffocating in the grasp of the other, in the boisterous depths. Depths of lust, grappling in the air searching for feelings unfound. A Snapchat, does it have me in it? A retweet, is it in reference to our date? How willI know that my lifetime partner has arrived, that my stars have aligned? that I will longer have to be busy with attempts to show the world that I too have been chosen? You’ll find it in silence, you’ll find it in being still, you’ll find it when both of your minds, souls are at ease, allowing you to hear your ancestors rattle their bones and shake their all knowing heads, validating your choice “they are the one” We’re quiet now… but its not the eerie silence which calls places where destruction once ran through home. It’s the silence that God submerged himself in when he knitted together the canvas that gave birth to the world. The same needle brings our hearts together, I no longer feel the need for noise to validate what we have. we’re full now, we’re distant planets at the mercy of gravity, pulling into one. This is how I want remember our time, eons will go by but our forever is eternalised.

By Pamela Mvuyane A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xi


illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xii


AntiI feel the hardest thing to do is to be constant sunshine to your own darkness at times. often I lose hope that I’ll be able to smile tomorrow. often I lose hope in a better world when I see another twitter post that triggers my anxiety... so I’m left with my thoughts, with that voice in my head, highly destructive to my temporary peace. I found love in wildflowers, so they constantly bring Sunshine when darkness closes in...

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xiii


illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xiv


A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xv


illustration by SOL Creative

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xvi


Thank you for reading this for appreciating it for what it is for developing your opinion about this. may you also make art to heal, to deal with pain to express yourself. i make art to heal and deal with my depression and anxiety

A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xvii


Thank you to these images and their rightful owners for inspiration A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xviii


T.... .H... E.....

END A TEMPORARY I N S TA L L AT I O N xix

Profile for sfundo

A Temporary Installation  

A short book of Illustrations By Sfundo Mngadi and poems by Pamela Mvuyane.

A Temporary Installation  

A short book of Illustrations By Sfundo Mngadi and poems by Pamela Mvuyane.

Profile for sfundo
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