{witness} my dear friend nicola rose

This is my dear friend Nicola Rose. I have known her since I can remember. She once covered me in Betadine and baby powder when I was too small to protest. We always loved to dress up, and apparently, we haven't grown out of that. She has a bulldog called Clancy who barks too much. She tells me things with utter authority (generally nonsense) and I believe her. She once told me that if you sit on a swing, you are bound to get verrucas, only because she wanted to swing. From then on I have always been sceptical of swings. I love my dear friend Nicola Rose.

{see} a lonely black man

I spotted this blind man playing his guitar on the corner of Short Market Street and St. George's Mall in Cape Town City. I was shocked that no one stopped to give him money, he was not begging, but providing a great city life vibe. He sang "I am a lonely black man, I need somebody to love me!" With a coffee from Deluxe Coffee Works (possibly the best coffee in the city), I sat on a step of a building and drew this fascinating man.

{meet} aiden the american in africa

I have seen Aiden a few times in a classics lecture, but I officially met him today over esspresos and cigarettes. He has transfered to study in South Africa, but he misses his partner (the term boyfriend is too frivolous) back in his appartment in New York. (Check out their blog, Transatlantic Romantics, about their time apart.) He is studying to be an archeologist, and everyday he walks twenty minutes to the catch the bus to varsity. Aiden made money to pay the rent for his New York Appartment (yes this is a proper noun) by working as a publicist for the Sundance Film Festival. He is approximately 0,7% Black Foot Native American. He hates ghosts and loves Desperate Housewives.