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PARTING SHOT: Namibia, the desert and the moon

PARTING SHOT: Namibia, the desert and the moon

The garden needs Bounce Back, so I bounce it. This is all so greenie-goodie-goodie organic that it makes me wilt. I rub my face and smell my hands. They stink. My wife walks past with a basket of washing and tells me that I stink. She’s a washaholic. I escape to my secret hideout cellar in my studio. I am not going to say where it is because you might arrive here and tell me I smell.

Yesterday, some amateur photographers arrived at my front gate and asked if I could tell them some more time-exposure-moon-stories. I wished secretly that I still stank. Many years ago, when I didn’t stink, I was young and gigolo good-looking. Back then, I found myself surrounded by young women – just like now – in a German bar in Swakopmund.

I spoke fluent German to them wearing my Che Guevara beret. Slowly overcome by beer, pretzels and other sensations, I dashed outside and drove into the desert (I have found that it’s as good as a cold shower). Well, actually, I found myself heading east along the C28 gravel road. At the bend of Welwitschia Drive I stopped and hyperventilated. You know, relax, focus, and orientate. However, I was still plagued by double-beer vision.

I stuck a large piece of duct tape over my left eye to stop the dancing double images from flickering. Then Art gripped me, cuddling me in her inspirational grip. Filled me with passion and creative arousal, just like that, there in the middle of the Namib. There was a full moon rising in the east, up along the end of the road, so I secured my Canon camera onto the dashboard with Prestik, started a time exposure, locked it in place with a cable release, and continued driving into the moonrise, guided into the one-eyed darkness by extraterrestrial forces.

This was a first for me, driving my time exposure into the moonrise. Soon I sensed that my headlights were picking up small reflector poles on either side of the road. Inside me, there was an otherworldly scream. Being my reckless self, I started swerving my bakkie repeatedly across the road, like a drunkarrrr…

That’s when my wife shook me awake, told me I was screaming in my sleep, and still smelled like the day before yesterday.
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