Writing Pieces
For me, writing has been a form of expression, reflection and healing. As I put pen to paper, I feel I can make sense of things; I can delve into my mind and speak to my thoughts. Yes, that's what writing feels like - a conversation. A conversation between mind, body and world. This year, I have explored journalistic writing, particularly during strict lockdown when social interaction was prohibited. I also turned to my journal to orientate myself within this global pandemic.
And In my explorations, I have worked with photography and design as accompanying mediums to my written articles; it has been rewarding to see the combination of these mediums in the creation of meaningful stories.
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A Click Away
a data-driven story on media usage during the pandemic
A page turns, a mouse clicks, and a finger taps. A television hums in the background — it’s volume low enough not to impose on family conversation, but loud enough to be noticed. It spits out figures: the number of active Covid-19 cases, the number of Covid-19 related deaths, the number of Covid-19 recoveries. On the coffee table, a slip of paper lies underneath a mobile phone. Moments ago, the youngest daughter catalogued all the films her family intended to watch during the next two weeks — two films per person, she noted. The mobile phone lights up and a wave of notifications fall on watchful eyes. Very little has changed within her four walls, but every time she reaches for her phone, she is reminded of how deceptive her routine has become.
Nolda van Geuns, Photograph by Ella van Geuns
A Century of Wisdom
It was quarter-to-seven in the morning and as always Nolda van Geuns sat in her armchair, looking through the window. Her room stared out at Three Anchor Bay which invited Nolda to watch the cold front’s debut. Over the past few months, she had seen a shift in the number of people and cars passing beneath her — a shift precipitated by the global Covid-19 pandemic. Nolda sat in her armchair a few moments longer and then walked to her bedroom, taking her time. Her arthritis made its presence felt and she leant on the table to steady herself. In just two months, she would celebrate her 100th birthday and she anticipated this milestone with spirit. Nolda van Geuns is my grandmother and I felt inspired to document her experience of lockdown.
Tsitsi Pasaya. Photograph by Ella van Geuns
A Project on Hout Bay Residents
I have lived in Hout Bay, Cape Town all my life and during lockdown, I returned from university to stay with my family in this coastal suburb. Hout Bay is home to diverse communities and sits in a valley overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Over the years, I have grown to observe some of its residents — their regular walks on the beach, their weekly grocery shops and even, their over-zealous dogs. I have witnessed the overlap of people’s lives and the enthused coffee shop conversations that reach across the street. Much of these observations, however, remained from a distance — often through the viewfinder of my camera.
Saskia van Geuns, my sister, meditating. Photograph by Ella van Geuns
Meditation during Lockdown
Maintaining inner peace during a global malaise
One morning his mind felt troubled. Mukesh Vassen had been reading the news surrounding the rising numbers of infected people, and started to feel uneasy. He has breathing problems and naturally began to worry about his fate, should he contract Covid-19. Nonetheless, Vassen, who has been an advanced teacher within the humanitarian organisation, The Art of Living Foundation, for over twenty years, turned to his regular practice of meditation to ease his stress. “Afterwards I had this strange experience; this realisation arose” he said, “you’ve died so many times, why are you so worried about how you are going to die this time.” During my conversation with Vassen, he revealed the power meditation holds in helping a person feel more comfortable with their mortality and more enthused about their present day life.
Illustration by Nonkosi Matrose.
Unlocking our Dreams
Nadia found herself in the digs she lived in last year. Her digsmate had cooked lasagna, while adding soil and a placard of black spider eggs to its ingredients. Soon after the lasagna had cooked, the mother spider made itself apparent — its size truly surprising them. However, the spider and its placard of eggs were no longer at her digs, but rather living at her old house in her hometown. Then, transported back to her digs, she observed her digsmate, who had not realised what he had cooked, and some of her friends devouring the egg-infected, soil-laced lasagna. Nadia’s dream ended. “It felt weird eating breakfast this morning,” she said.
