Howzit from Hell

A greeting sent from a burning place. Scorched reds and oranges churn beneath a field of black, while sweeping silver gestures cut through the smoke like signals, casual, almost friendly, entirely at odds with the ground they rise from.

The title is the confession: the everyday South African hello, delivered from inside the fire. It is the small talk people make while everything burns, the howzit that stands guard in front of help.

Newspaper fragments smoulder in the underlayers, the daily record folded into the heat. What is imposed gets absorbed, distorted, and reclaimed.

Symbolic language

• Scorched reds and oranges, the fire lived in, not visited.
• Silver-white gestures, signals and small talk rising through smoke.
• The black field, the weight that frames the brightness.
• Newspaper beneath the heat, the noise that keeps burning.

The politest word in the language, sent from the least polite place. How are you? Howzit. From hell.