Sizwe winced, almost as if the woman’s words had struck him. In some ways, they had. But, instead of causing him physical pain, they opened wounds he had been trying hard to stitch…
Apropos of writing an essay on the experience of plodding through a difficult time in my life, I have been thinking about what suffering means for the artist. The process of writing that essay, as one would expect, was a dark affair layered with distress and pain. I wrote in spurts, never steadily, as both …
