The Pomegranate Story

I grew up on a farm during my first years. Except for some vivid memories of certain smells, colours, noises and the way of living, I recall the evenings in particular.We gathered at the back door and my dad explained the creation of the universe, the galaxies and “satellites”. The radio wasn’t always reliable, no electricity and certainly long before TV. Therefore, we had to create our own entertainment.

My mum and dad would dance and sing for us. This is where I started my “first world tour”. Under the umbrella of a big “Bloekomboom” (Blue gum tree), sitting on a white garden chair, I was traveling to an unknown world. Sometimes it was by train and other times it was by motorcar. The big wooden table next to the chair was my boat. This traveling by boat was very extraordinary.

Why? Because the farm had only one bore hole, so water was scarce and I had no idea what a lot of water would look like. With the chair on the table, I was traveling by “satellite” – very fast! And so my passion for travel was born. It was quite a few decades later that these memories of smells, noises, colours, and my very early traveling experiences would find their way on my canvases.

The artwork “Pomegranates for my Brother” is one of the first works exhibited during an Art Festival in Bloemfontein. It reminded me of our short time on the farm. Painting the pomegranates for my brother who prefers still lives to any other forms of artwork, I could smell Ouma’s Laventelbos (Lavender Bush), I could see the sunset, and remember the taste of this fruit.

As soon as I put “Pomegranates for my Brother””on the exhibition easel, an elderly man walked into the room, fell in love with the painting and buy it. But the snag was, that his loving wife was to have a knee operation the next day. They were married nearly fifty years and he wanted to give her something special, because they already had everything they needed.

And flowers would wither. While she was in hospital, he hanged the artwork for her in their bedroom.