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The Devil Loves When We Loathe Ourselves | 02.08 - 29.08.2018


 
 

View the catalogue here:

 

 

ARTISTS EXHIBITING:

1. Rory Emmett

2. Kim Makin

3. Bulumko Mbete

4. Thandiwe Msebenzi

5. Brett Seiler

6. Joshua Williams

7. Shana- Lee Ziervogel

8. Farai Engelbrecht

9. FossilSoul

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The Devil Loves When We Loathe Ourselves is a group exhibition exploring the politics of identity in an African and largely South African landscape. In the exhibition the poet FossilSoul states: “ I shall not want for an identityNeither be defined by a politic”.

 

“The Devil Loves When We Loathe Ourselves”
FossilSoul ©

 

Through the dark of the valley

of the shadow of death

I shall not want for an identity

Neither be defined by a politic

 

The Cynical Voices of Our Education

The heart of an empath  

castrated as a fickle view of life 

Susceptibility -- the cast upon us

So, the Devil pawns Us

 

 
 

They are hardened to vulnerability

Their demons never allow your intuition to find you

Constantly persuaded of your solo energy

Righteously chanting ‘no man is an island’

Only to the Prophets of their demise

 

Living at their polar opposites

Black and white is just always easier

Jaded to the greys 

Of the fiending dimness

Because You choose Yourself

 

Only of their eyes do You observe truth

Even Thomas of the bible 

could never show them up

 on their kind of prude

 

Through the dark of the valley

of the shadow of death

I shall not want for an identity

Neither be defined by a politic

 

Of the ones ushered into churning life

Just a duet of scoffs and scorn 

pertinent to their contexts

How dare anything exist in the positive

outside of your own disparaging decisions

 

You are never experiencing the yolk 

of the light-hearted kind like you

Who breaths from the light

Never permitting the darkness to pry

Allow Yourself

 

Kissing volatility 

With each cell of your every waking breath

There will be no storms to show them Your strength 

Once you collapse from their demonic presence

Don’t become the sacrifice

 

Let the disheartened 

Sit at the palm of your existence

So that they too can know

That the seed needs to break out of its shell

In order to experience its purpose

 

We shall not want for an identity

Neither be defined by a politic

 

The gloom will never uncast your anguish

Yet you shall always sit unscathed 

Because your veils are omniscient like sage 

For Us, it is just another one of those days

 

With 10 000 hours of mastery

You shall always be branded with mimicry

Little do they ever see the extents of your intensity 

Ever, do they seek the archives of your propensity 

You are the essence of creation

Fallen on deaf ears

 

Through the dark of the valley

of the shadow of death

I shall not want for an identity

Neither be defined by a politic

 

 

Earlier Event: July 5
Colijn Strydom | 05.07 - 28.07.2018
Later Event: September 6
Emma C. Aspeling | 05 - 22 Sep 2018