The haunted painting never burns down, even though everything beside it has been turned to ashes
There is a small sanctuary of paintings, one which I think is a hidden gem, a photographer's paradise, where you can find delicious food, old oddities, and the strangest of paintings with some really upsetting histories...
This makes the coffee, or the drink, taste all the more delicious. Because you have no idea who is staring at you, neither do you know what these cursed paintings are imbuing/drenching you with. Maybe there is a curse over us for drinking underneath the eyes of these haunted figures.
Please join me on this virtual journey as I take you with me through the haunted world of these paintings, and where I show you just how beautiful this haunted place is. In fact, it is not the place as such that is haunted, but merely the paintings...
The Cursed Painting(s)
There is a set of paintings with a creepy backstory. It is one that I never knew about, but I have probably seen the painting many times before. It is said that these twins, a brother and a sister (two photographs below) were one of the earliest prints available for cheap in South Africa. Because of this, various families acquired them, hanging them in dining rooms, and other places.
Something strange then started to happen. Some of the homes in which these paintings hung burned down, with these paintings untouched by the flames. What is even stranger is that some people have seen tears in their eyes. I can imagine the creepy feeling you get when you stare into these paintings, and then seeing a teardrop...
That said, we sat underneath these paintings, drinking our drinks, talking about everything besides this very eery fact. The boy and the girl were separated from each other, hanging on opposite walls in the little sanctuary for old paintings and prints. Maybe this was key to destroying their power, by keeping them separate... Let us hope this is the case.
The Other Paintings (Less Cursed but Also Creepy)
That said, there were many other old paintings without these haunted backstories. But this did not make it less creepy. There are ample paintings and prints hugging the walls, all the eyes looking straight at you.
We were the only ones having something to drink and to eat, so the place was eerily quiet, only the eyes starring at us...
But some of the other paintings were less scary, merely old prints or paintings which pulled at our nostalgic heartstrings, as they were paintings and prints that hung in our great grandfather's and grandfather's homes. We all remember these paintings, not because of the paintings themselves, but because of the memories they awaken in us.
A Photographer's Paradise
That said, the place remains a photographer's paradise. I did not have much time, but I was in my element. I wanted to take photographs of my girlfriend but only thought about this as we walked out of the little sanctuary. But we will return, with her in an appropriate dress to blend into the old furniture.
Besides that, I bent down to take some photographs of all of these old cupboards, frames, and other things. At least, I really liked the place, with the early morning sun falling just right on these beautiful artifacts.
I particularly liked this old frame. I thought about all of the dust collecting in the crevises, all of the stories that it heard, and all of the many paintings that it might have framed before the one it is currently framing...
The (Cursed) Chairs
There were a couple of old chairs that continually pulled me closer. I photographed them without anyone sitting on them. This added to the creepy elements, conjuring up the images of ghosts sitting in them. Alongside this creepiness, the chairs again conjured up the nostalgia, as my grandparents had similar ones (albeit in different colours). But these chairs, alongside the paintings, gave strange feelings. I felt the presence of others having sat on these chairs, their historical presence permeating the present... I wondered what documents have been discussed in the past by big figures, philosophers, politicians, important people...
But now, these chairs are decor, not meant to be sat on but to be contemplated. It becomes strange pieces of art alongside the art hanging in the walls.
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Preserving a Nostalgia (for the Present/Past)
I have been talking so much about the past. It is strange how people always want to maintain the past in the present. We want to keep things in this perfect state between ideal and disarray. We do not want to restore it, but we also do not want it to decay any further. We want to preserve the old in the present as old. Such a strange thing.
It seems like in Pretoria, South Africa, there is a big culture about saving old things, reusing it, to preserve the old, not as something in the past, but something to which we still have access to a lifestyle long lost. Our homes are modern, minimalist, but we return to these sanctuaries to experience something of the past, to try and return to a lifestyle long gone. In this moment, we find solace, that we had a past, that our culture is not gone. But then we return to our homes, forgetting that very past we so crave to hold onto.
We discussed all of these things while drinking our drinks and eating our food. Such a strange feeling of being locked in the present, having access to both the future and the past, but only in our present state. We always "think-back-but-with-my-current-mindset".
Beneath the Flowers
As we walked out, we saw all of these beautiful flower pots. From the inside harbouring all of the old, to the outside holding nature at bay. The flowers spill over their holders, creating the illusion of flowing water, but here they are captured in their momentary stage of growth.
"My Cup Runneth Over", would be the title of the photograph (below). It reminds me of water flowing, but in the moment captured forever the water dried up, and all that remains is the dust that collected over the years with flowers growing their roots in this fertile soil.
Postscriptum, or To be Cursed or Blessed
The eyes of the painting will not forever look at me, and I will forever look at it. In this moment, I captured the curse, I rejuvenate it continually, perpetually, as this painting will never burn down. I eternalised the gaze, and I will gaze eternally.
We drank our drinks, and we left the sanctuary of old paintings not too bothered.
I will return to this little sanctuary, armed with my camera and my pencil, for this place pulled on the heartstring that made me want to write poetry, to photograph my muse in all of her strangeness.
I hope that you enjoyed this virtual and photographic journey with me to this little sanctuary of paintings. I hope that I did justice to the poetic nature of this place and that the eyes of the cursed paintings will not haunt me. Jokes aside, I really hope that you enjoyed this virtual journey with me.
For now, happy travelling and keep well.
All of the musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by stories we shared over a drink. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300.