Lightning in the Dark

"Please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"But Cherie got to do it."

"And she gave it up because she had to get up too early."

"I already get up early."

"The answer is no, Lara. And that's final."

The battle was lost, but the war was far from over. I never did get over the fact that I had been denied the right of all children to learn to ride a horse. What it did mean though was that I started to hold a special place for horses in my heart, a place of awe and reverence. Horses to me were always animals to be respected and, at times, feared. Beautiful creatures that I could look at, but not touch. Until Lightning.

"Can I," I ask Kim without taking my eyes off him. His coat is gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, and all I want to do is reach out and touch it, but not knowing how he will react, I am hesitant.

"Of course!" It is as though I have asked if I can breathe. "They need all the attention they can get," Kim announces as she explains that a number of the horses at Grahamstown's paddocks have owners who are not able to come and ride them nearly as often as they would like. 

"Horses are meant to be ridden," she says matter-of-factly. And I can see it in their legs, the muscles bulging, in the flow of their manes that whispers of a will to be running, to be galloping, to be free. Horses are meant to be ridden, not to be cooped up in pens out of the sunlight.

I reach out a hand slowly towards him, half expecting him to buck or to shake his head as though swatting away a pest. But instead, he continues with his meal of as much grass as he can get, and my hand runs over his velvet coat. It is as soft as it looks, softer in fact, and my fingers tingle under the touch.

The weather is refusing to cooperate with us, the sun hiding behind clouds rather than providing the golden light that I had been hoping for. But the clouds set a peaceful mood which suits our needs as we make our way to one of the paddocks.

"Lightning," Kim warns as she sees him head straight for the grass that lines the fence. She leads him instead to the solitary tree in the middle of the field, and here he stands, awaiting instructions, for all of three seconds before making his way back over to the fence.

"He's still young," Kim offers as an explanation. Like a typical teenager, I think to myself. Learning how the world works and marvelling at its every offering.

"Maybe he will be better in the other field," I offer as a suggestion, and we take him next door where there are no trees and less long grass to offer distraction. Just emptiness, with me on the sidelines trying to capture it. 

"Come on, boy," Kim announces with a clap, trying to get him to run. And run he does, straight towards me. I duck instinctively as he passes, and the camera clicks just a second too late every time, impossible to catch his full frame in a single shot as he races past like his namesake. He reaches one side of the paddock and turns to run in the opposite direction. His eyes are wild with joy and confusion at the freedom.

"He's never been told to run before," Kim explains, as her own eyes fill with concern. "He doesn't know what's happening."

As he reaches the fence, he tries to go further and finds himself blocked in at every corner, the only way out is forward and he tries his best to make his way out, running into the fence before scaring himself.

"It's okay", Kim coos, as I stare wide-eyed, not knowing how to react, not knowing what it is that I have done. Her voice calms him almost instantly, and he stops running and lets himself be comforted by her words, her soft touch.

"Good," she says, resting her head on his chest, running her hand down his back. "Is it okay if we head back now," she asks, and I nod happily, not wanting to frighten him any more than I already have.

As we make our way back to the stables, Lightning returns to his normal self, stopping to eat as much grass as he can manage along the way, his stride slowing as his heart rate lowers. Kim walks him back to his stall, and it is back to the darkness, but suddenly the cool of the stall seems more inviting, the pen offering a soothing familiarity. I take one last shot, and I know that it is not going to be perfect, but I love it anyway. I have captured the Lightning in the dark, and it feels right.

Devious and Delightfully Disco

“Do I have to come in?”

“You don’t HAVE to, but I imagine that you will be pretty bored in the car.”

I can see her weighing up the options, clutching her coat tightly around her, and I can see why. With her fiery red curls and her ‘60s style dress and grey stocking, Debbie is looking far too sexy for a trip into Grahamstown’s Pick ‘n’ Pay, particularly on a Wednesday night with nothing else going on. It would be another story entirely if this were Trivarsity, or a weekend, or even just a Thirsty Thursday. But instead, it is a Wednesday night in the middle of the month and there is nothing happening. She joins me despite her misgivings, the neon colours just poking out underneath her black coat, not enough to raise any eyebrows. With the supplies for dinner procured, it is time to head home and let the fun begin.

Once in the safety of the garage, the coat comes off and the colours come to life. Her shyness dissolves under the studio lights, and the real Debbie, the one that I know and love, comes out. With each click of the camera, I can see her becoming more comfortable and, despite her attempts at keeping it serious, her fun side starts showing through. And so we take ourselves back to the disco era as I let the colours pop, knowing that I wouldn’t dare convert any one of these into black and white. Debs turns into a runway model, swinging her hips as she walks, running her hair through her hands and pouting in between giggles and smiles. Disco Debbie takes over, and she is a good icebreaker to say the least. By the first wardrobe change, Debs is back to being herself, her nerves no longer existent, and it’s time for her next role.

With a swish of colour and a swab of wine red lipstick, it’s time for Devious Debbie to strut her stuff. A figure-hugging black dress with a plummeting neckline shows off her figure, and the mood of the photos shifts accordingly. But, as I said, Debbie is a good actress and takes the change in her stride. The outfit highlights another side of Debbie's personality, but it is not one that she is entirely unfamiliar with. Before my eyes, I see her change into the sultry seductress that lurks belong her bubbly exterior. But even with the sexy librarian taking the leading role, I can still see my Debbie with shining through as we laugh and chat and I shoot away. 

And with one final outfit pulled out of the bag, it is Delightful Debbie's turn. A short sleeved Oriental shirt to match her bright hair, a pair of worn jeans and sneakers mean that it's time for Debbie's most natural role, the outfit and the personality that she will wear for the rest of the evening. This time it's all laughter, and Grant comes and pokes his head in the door to see what is going on, not used to me being so loud when I am working. Puddims takes the opportunity to push his way into the spotlight, and Debbie far from objects, taking the chance for a new kind of pose. 

"And," I ask as the night draws to a close, as I turn off the lights and plunge the studio into darkness, hardly reminiscent of the room that we have spent the last hour and a half in.

The smile on Debbie's face says it all.