Humble Bold Statements in Art and British Bulldogs.
Welcome to the creative world of !!MrB!! and Mayhem Of Eden, where bold art meets world-class British Bulldogs. We showcase unique art and offer a premium British Bulldog stud service. Our dogs boast the finest pedigrees, with frozen semen available worldwide in England, Ireland, South Africa, and Australia. Mayhem Of Eden is owned and operated by MAAD72702 UNCUT LIMITED (ENGLAND) as Trustee for the Mayhem Of Eden Discretionary Trust (Australia).
This is Mayhem Of Eden (Above).
Immerse yourself in the vibrant, textured world of !!MrB!!—a space where colour, depth, and emotion gently come together.
Each artwork is crafted to stir feeling and invite reflection. The textured surfaces create a sense of dimensionality, making every piece uniquely captivating in its own quiet way.
Every flower represents someone who has touched my life—those who are with me, those who have been part of my journey, and those whose memories continue to bloom in my heart. This collection is my personal ‘Garden of Eden’: a celebration of joyful moments and a peaceful release of the ones that were not as bright.
Over the next day or two, I will begin sharing my thoughts and stories—only the happy ones—starting with my mother. She passed away the same year my father retired, in 2001. My mum, lovingly called ‘Ma’, is symbolised by the white flower adorned with gentle lights. The lights shine day and night—not as a shrine, but as a tender reminder of the beautiful memories I hold close. Each day, I will add another piece to this journey, exploring the evolving story of ‘Mayhem of Eden’.
In the past twelve months, I’ve poured myself into creativity following a difficult mental health breakdown. It was a challenging chapter—a wild ride—but it brought me here, to a place of healing and expression, and for that, I am deeply grateful.
This space has been created as a sanctuary of creativity, nature, peace, and admiration for the beloved British Bulldog. I hope you find here a moment of calm, joy, inspiration, or simply a gentle distraction. In my art, even mistakes become happy surprises.
This is a space free from anger and negativity. Kindness and respect guide everything here.
Wishing you peace and safety until tomorrow night.
Kindest :-)
My Mum "Ma".
A Tribute to My Mother.
She was a woman of grace and quiet strength—a devoted wife, a loving mother, and the soft, steady heartbeat of our family. Cancer took her from us on 15 February 2001, just as my father was preparing to retire after more than 40 years with Standard Bank of South Africa. Even in those final days, her love for my father, my brothers, and me never dimmed.
She moved through life with elegance—always beautifully dressed, always manicured, her bright red nails as gentle as her touch. Kind, soft, and tender, yet unshakeable when she believed in something, she was the quiet strength that carried us all. She truly was the fabric that held our world together.
Her passing brought a sadness beyond words and changed the course of life for both my father and me. But her light remains. She is the heart of Mayhem Of Eden, a gentle pulse I still feel within me every single day.
Today, I honour her—my mother, my guide, my everlasting love. Ma, you were and will always be irreplaceable. Your legacy lives in me, and I miss you deeply, every single day.
(27 November 2025).
My Dad "Oupa".
A Loving Tribute to My Father
Daddy, you have always been as solid as a rock—steady, dependable, and built from integrity, dedication, and unwavering loyalty. Born in 1939, and now at 86 years old, you remain as sharp as a razor, carrying wisdom, dignity, and strength that continue to inspire everyone around you.
Your entire professional life was devoted to one place—the Standard Bank of South Africa. One job, one career, one extraordinary legacy. With decades of service, you carried forward the remarkable footsteps of your own father, who served the same bank for over 40 years. This is a bond, a commitment, a lineage of loyalty that is truly unbreakable.
You were not only a great father, but a wonderful grandfather. And that legendary “Joggie Jansen tackle” will forever make us laugh—an unforgettable part of who you are. You worked tirelessly, seven days a week, to build a life for us, while Mum dedicated herself to our home. Together, you were the perfect team.
As a very Senior Executive, you were the epitome of the old-school banker: firm, fair, disciplined, and respected by the thousands of staff under your guidance. Dark suits and starched white shirts were the rule. Grey shoes and white socks—banned forever! People used to whisper that you must visit the hairdresser every morning, which was only partly true—because it was Mum who made sure your hair was perfect each day.
You retired at 60, as the bank required, but by then your influence had already shaped South Africa across multiple decades. In the 1980s, 1990s, and early 2000s, from your office, you indirectly touched everything—the private hospitals, The Airports Company, global security organisations, and countless businesses that relied on the financial guidance you oversaw. So much of what you handled cannot even be spoken about today.
Last year, when you needed surgery, I spent four months by your side during recovery. It was not my duty—it was my honour. I carried your wallet, and every time someone saw your medical aid card dating all the way back to 1959, they were stunned. Your consistency, loyalty, and reliability are truly extraordinary.
You were the perfect father. You never missed a single rugby game I played. You and Mum built a life that was steady, loving, and strong—a partnership most people only dream of.
Daddy, I love you. Always and forever!
(28 November 2025).
Dad, Mum and the three Son's (Above)
A Tribute to My Parents.
My parents were married on 30 September 1961. Their union, beautifully symbolised by the flowers above, reflects a love that has remained tender, steady, and inseparable. Mum is the white flower with the lights; Dad is the white flower with the green fronds. The green fronds represent the Ackerman “Green” name—strong, protective, and proud. Mum’s smaller fronds intertwined with Dad’s on that special day in 1961, and they have remained lovingly connected ever since.
I was blessed with remarkable parents. Mum was the perfect wife, mother, and grandmother—gentle, devoted, and endlessly loving. Together, Mum and Dad created a home filled with balance, warmth, and harmony. They worked hand in hand in raising their family, and they did so with unity, patience, and unshakeable dedication.
They raised three sons—the three small red flowers below Dad. We grew beneath their love, their values, and their guidance. And when Mum passed, the four of us—Dad and his three sons—were left with a loss deeper than words can capture.
Mum and Dad not only devoted themselves to their children, but they also nurtured dreams of their own. Every year they travelled to Greece, spending a month together enjoying life, love, and the world around them. As children, we took turns joining them, forming memories that remain precious.
As Dad approached retirement, life suddenly changed. Mum was diagnosed with cancer. We fought with everything we had, but in the end, it wasn’t the illness itself that took her—it was the treatment. The cancer spread, leading to brain tumours that were treated aggressively with radiation. One morning she suffered a seizure that caused severe brain injuries, and despite surgery and every effort made, she did not survive. The 15th of February 2001 remains the most painful day of my life.
I was incredibly close to my mother, and I remain incredibly close to my father. The night before she passed, I was meant to have dinner with them, but I cancelled due to work. I carry that regret heavily, and I know I will never forget it.
My parents worked for more than 40 years to enjoy their retirement together. My father’s achievements were never his alone—they were shared achievements, created by two people who lived as a perfect team. Their dreams were big, their love even bigger.
What I know beyond all doubt is this: my mother was my father’s one true love. Their devotion to each other was pure and beautiful, and it lives on in the memories we hold and in the lives they shaped.
Mum and Dad, I love you both deeply. Thank you for every act of love, every sacrifice, and every moment you gave me. Every perfect gift is from God, and I was blessed to have you as my parents.
(29 November 2025).
Grandmother - Mum's Side "Ouma Suze".
Very Special Tribute to My Grandmother “Ouma Suze”.
My beloved grandmother, Ouma Suze, was a woman of gentle grace and quiet magic. She carried a softness that made every moment in her presence feel warm and safe. From the time I was a child, she and I shared a bond woven from creativity, wonder, and unconditional love. Every school holiday, I could hardly wait to pack my bags and head to her home—my happy place—where my imagination was free to bloom.
Ouma was deeply artistic, with a natural love for flowers and animals. At the height of her career, she owned three flourishing florist shops, including one inside the prestigious Carlton Hotel in Johannesburg. In those days, the Carlton Hotel was the shining jewel of the city, and knowing that my grandmother’s artistry graced its halls filled me with pride.
She and my grandfather also ran a farm, where flowers were grown especially for the shops. While my grandfather tended the land, Ouma brought beauty to life with her hands. Her elegance and creativity flowed effortlessly, and it was clear that this gift passed down to my Mum as well.
During my holidays with her, our days were full and joyful. We arranged flowers together, painted, explored colours, and cared for her delightful menagerie of animals—parrots, dogs, two large aviaries, and even a shimmering fishpond. I would dive into every task with excitement, feeling as though I had stepped into a little world lovingly built just for me.
Trips to Lopus Pets in Johannesburg CBD were our special adventures. We never left empty‑handed, and every visit felt like entering a treasure chest of possibility. Those days truly felt like stepping into my own small heaven.
Later in life, Ouma faced Alzheimer’s, and watching such a vibrant, capable woman be touched by that illness was heartbreaking. Yet even as memories faded, her essence—her softness, her dignity, her love—remained imprinted in my heart.
I have so many memories of her that I could fill a book. She was, in every sense, one of a kind.
Every day, I think of her. I keep two peace lilies in my bedroom—one for Mum and one for Ouma. I talk to them often, finding comfort in their gentle presence.
If I had to describe her as a single flower, I couldn’t—because she was the loving flower of all flowers.
I miss you deeply, Ouma. I often imagine what we would be doing tomorrow…
(30 November 2025).
Grandfather - Mum's Side "Oupa Jack".
A Loving Tribute to My Grandfather.
Oupa Jack, where do I begin? You were the truest gentleman in every sense of the word. My heart overflows with gratitude as I think back on the countless memories and the gentle lessons you gifted me throughout my life.
During every school holiday spent with you and Ouma, I felt a sense of belonging and wonder. While Ouma and I were often busy with our own creative adventures, it was with you that I discovered the quiet joy of fishing, the satisfaction of woodwork, and the beauty of nurturing plants and flowers. Making deck chairs, learning about the earth, and watching life grow around us—those were moments where I felt truly in my element.
Your farm, just a 40‑minute drive from home, became one of my happiest places. You, Jafta, and Franse ran it with a calm confidence that I admired even as a child. The flowers you grew—your famous ranonkels (Ranunculus)—were nothing short of breathtaking. Their colours, their delicacy, their magic… I loved them then, and I love them now. They became part of who I am, woven into my childhood, especially with Mum having green fingers too.
Your farm, just a 40‑minute drive from home, became one of my happiest places.
You, Jafta, and Franse ran it with a calm confidence that I admired even as a child. The flowers you grew—your famous ranonkels (Ranunculus)—were nothing short of breathtaking. Their colours, their delicacy, their magic… I loved them then, and I love them now. They became part of who I am, woven into my childhood, especially with Mum having green fingers too.
I can still see you so clearly—always dressed in a suit, regardless of the occasion. Even a trip to the farm didn’t change that. You carried yourself with grace, quietly spoken, endlessly patient, and kind in a way that settled the world around you.
And, of course, there was Charlie—the Amazon Green parrot with the fiery personality. The only soul you never quite managed to charm. Charlie would kick up a fuss every time you passed, and you’d answer with a raised fist, which only made Charlie even more dramatic. Ouma always knew exactly what was going on. The two of you, silently battling a parrot—those are the memories that still make me smile.
Life has a way of reminding us of the things we’ve forgotten. Recently, something made me look deeper within myself, and there I found you again—your values, your gentleness, your strength, and the love you poured into our family. You shaped me in ways I never truly understood until now.
Oupa, I am forever grateful. You have a special place beside Ouma in my bedroom, and every day we have our little chat. I miss you more than words can ever say, but your presence lives on in everything I do, everything I’ve learned, and everything I cherish.
Thank you for the memories… for the lessons… for the love.
Grandmother - Dad's Side "Ouma Ackie".
A Special Tribute to My Grandmother.
Ouma Ackie was a gentle, steady light in our family—an extraordinary woman whose grace and quiet strength shaped generations. She was, in every sense, the compassionate matriarch of the Ackerman family. With a loving heart and unwavering resilience, she tended to a home filled with warmth, even while supporting my grandfather through his own mental health challenges.
As a child, I was blessed to grow up only a few doors away. Our days were woven together with simple joys and shared moments. Her kitchen was a place of magic—where comfort simmered on the stove and love baked in the oven. Her meals were unforgettable, and her baked goods belonged in their own realm of perfection. Each year, she created the cherished Christmas Cake, rich with memories and tradition. I savoured every slice. Mum would hide coins in the cake, and on Christmas Day, we children gathered with excitement to enjoy Ouma’s masterpiece and hope for a lucky treasure.
As a qualified chef today, I know exactly where my passion and skill for food came from. She also made the most divine brawn—a traditional German delicacy—that graced our table all year round. Every flavour she crafted held care, heritage, and pride.
Ouma was also the gentle peacekeeper among the grandchildren, balancing the spirited mischief often encouraged by my grandfather. Some of my fondest memories are of walking beside her after the rain, foraging for mushrooms. She knew each one by heart, guided by instinct, wisdom, and the deep connection she held with the earth.
Her image, to me, is the embodiment of the Christmas Cake and the brawn she lovingly made—nurturing, grounded, and strong. And in honouring her, I also pay my respects to the Traditional Custodians of the land on which we live here in Australia. Their rich culture, spirit of care, and profound connection to Country are reflected beautifully in the “dots”—a reminder of the stories, ancestors, and wisdom that continue to guide us.
Ouma, I miss you deeply. A special flower dedicated to you sits in my room, tended with love every day. Not a single day passes without thoughts of you and the cherished memories I hold close to my heart.
(4 December 2025).
Grandfather Dad's Side - "Oupa Ackie".
A Special Tribute to My Grandfather.
Oupa Ackie was a man carved from strength, intelligence, and unshakable character. He was a tough nut by nature—firm, direct, and never one to tolerate nonsense—but beneath that exterior lived a sharp and deeply educated mind. His brilliance was undeniable. After becoming Head Boy of Queens College in South Africa and captaining the first soccer team, he earned his place in Medical School by winning bursaries every year (Oupa also received the Nelson Shield ((the highest reward)), he also held the record for decades for the 100 and 200 yard sprints. He was named the DUX Scholar in his final year of school.Though financial hardship forced him to step away from his studies, he walked a new path with dignity and purpose, building a distinguished career of more than 40 years with the Standard Bank of South Africa. My father followed him, and in time, so did I.
He carried a spirit of determination into every corner of his life. He grew Catawba grapes and made his own wine—a craft he enjoyed wholeheartedly. I was only five or six years old, stumbling up and down the hallway after sneaking a taste or two. He was full of mischief and often the mastermind behind the playful chaos among the grandchildren. It didn’t take much to spark my temper, and he knew it well—there was always mayhem when he was around.
Despite his tough exterior, he taught me lessons I still hold today, including how to handle a pistol at a young age. His mental agility was remarkable, and much of the way I think—even now—comes from observing him. He was straightforward, unfiltered, and unwavering. He stood firm in who he was.
Before he and Ouma moved to Johannesburg, they lived in Cape Town, where he regularly climbed Table Mountain—in his rugby boots, no less. That image alone captures the essence of who he was: determined, capable, and built for challenge.
One of my favourite memories is of his El Camino station wagon. Max, his loyal Boxer dog, was always by his side. Every day Oupa would drive Max four kilometres from home, let him out, and the race would begin. Max sprinting home, Oupa steering the El Camino with a grin—it was a daily ritual filled with joy and companionship.
Oupa, I wish you were still here. There is so much more I could have learnt from you—your insight, your discipline, your humour, your fire. In my heart, you are forever painted in green: the colour representing the “Farmer” or “Ploughman” in the meaning of Ackerman, and the colour of the earth you valued so deeply.
You are truly missed. One day, we will sit together again—and we will talk.
(3 December 2025).
My Ex-Wife.
Coming Soon!
The Love of My Life!
"For one brief shining moment there was a spot, that spot was known as Camelot"
She is the love of my life — straight, no questions asked. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. In my heart, I know she was the woman I should have married. She carried a kindness that was rare, a refinement that came so naturally to her, and a soft, beautiful smile that could quiet any storm. Her heart was warm, gentle, and sincere. Even her mother was a treasure — they were cut from the same gracious cloth.
But life, as it often does, took a turn. My mum, in her protective way, was unsettled by the two years she had on me. Without telling me, she called her to speak privately. As a mother, I understand the instinct to protect your child — but that conversation created waves neither of them ever intended. My mum voiced fears about responsibility, about the possibility of an unwanted pregnancy. And while I know her intentions were rooted in love, the result was pain — friction that needs no retelling. Love is something we all understand, but being in love... that is a completely different world. And with “Inky,” I wasn’t just in love — I was enchanted.
She was magic. Pure magic. To this day, whenever I listen to Coldplay’s “Magic,” she lives in every lyric. She holds that space in my heart alongside someone else who knows he is special. But her place — her magic — remains entirely her own.
Two days before we were set to leave — me, my ex-wife, two little ones, and another on the way — my sister-in-law phoned. Inky had asked her to reach me. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I called immediately.
We met in Fourways, near the offramp. And the moment she hugged me… I can still feel it. Warm, gentle, indescribable. It felt like coming home. We had lunch, and it was as if not a single day had passed between us. She wanted to tell me one thing — that she should have married me. And without even thinking, I told her the truth: I felt exactly the same.
I walked away with a heavy heart, yet full of the kind of love I had always wanted — the love I knew, deep inside, was ours. A connection beyond explanation, beyond circumstance, beyond time.
I never stopped loving her. Not then. Not now. Not ever.
We never exchanged a harsh word. Losing her broke me in ways I never spoke about. My mum saw it — and she didn’t interfere in my next relationship, which was clearly a rebound. That situation was far more complex, far more tangled than anything with Inky had ever been. Perhaps my mum should have spoken up then — but silence is sometimes louder than words.
But this — this is not about anyone else. This is about Inky.
Inky, I am still in love with you. I always will be. What we had — what we are — is something I could never recreate. I could never love again in that same way, no matter how life unfolds.
Warmest love,
Marius
(5 December 2025).
My Son's.
Coming Soon!
Someone I deeply care about.
Coming Soon!
Standard Bank Of South Africa (Blue and White Rose).
A Tribute to Standard Bank — and Our Family’s Legacy.
The story of Standard Bank is one of vision, resilience, and long-term growth — a story that began in 1862, when a group of entrepreneurs led by John Paterson founded what was then called Standard Bank of British South Africa. Operations commenced in 1863 in Port Elizabeth, and over time the bank expanded across South Africa. Wikipedia+2standardbank.com+2
As the nation changed and new opportunities arose, Standard Bank was not far behind. In 1886, it became the first bank to open a branch on the famed Witwatersrand gold fields — at the heart of what would become Johannesburg — signaling its readiness to play a foundational role in South Africa’s economic development. South African History Online+2Wikipedia+2
Through the decades, Standard Bank’s roots grew deep and wide. In 1962, the South African operations were formally established under the name Standard Bank of South Africa. standardbank.com+1 A holding company, now known as Standard Bank Group, was created in 1969 to oversee the bank’s operations. standardbank.com+1 Over time — through periods of transformation, economic highs and lows, and waves of change — Standard Bank has remained a pillar in South Africa’s banking landscape. South African History Online+2Banktrack+2
It is against this backdrop of enduring legacy and institutional stability that your family’s multi-generation story with Standard Bank takes on powerful meaning.
My grandfather, with more than 40 years of service, helped build — and sustain — the bank during pivotal times in its history. My father, too, followed in those footsteps, carving out a distinguished career spanning decades. Me, as the third generation, and my brothers, also being part of the bank, are living embodiments of continuity, loyalty, and trust in an institution that has itself stood the test of time.
Standard Bank did more than provide employment. Through its stability, growth, and reach, it helped nurture the financial well-being of our family. It offered a foundation for livelihoods, opportunities, and a shared heritage that now binds several generations together. In that way, Standard Bank is more than a financial institution — it is a legacy-keeper, a long-term partner, and a family tradition.
In honouring Standard Bank today, I recognise not only its institutional achievements, but also the personal connections, sacrifices and commitments of generations. Our family’s story reflects the very spirit that built Standard Bank — faith in the long view, dedication across generations, and a belief in stability, integrity and shared prosperity.
May this tribute stand as a small gesture of gratitude — for our family, for the bank, and for the enduring values that link us together.
(11 December 2025).
My Godmother "Dad's Sister" - Tannie Ingrid.
A Special Tribute to My Godmother.
Tannie Ingrid is Dad’s sister, and I am grateful beyond words to have a godmother who reminds me every day where my faith stands and how it shapes my life.
She is much more than a godmother; she is a guiding light, a source of unwavering faith, and a living example of Christian love. Every day I receive messages from her—small heartbeats of encouragement that brighten my mornings and steady my heart. Her life is a testament to devotion, and her faith is a beacon I strive to emulate.
Tannie Ingrid embodies discipline, compassion, and tireless care. She has poured herself into her family, often working hard to provide for them while maintaining grace and kindness in all she does. Her story includes a memorable chapter in which a small, practical treasure—her “boot of gold”—held the sweet memories of treats and laughter. I still smile at the image of that moment, the joy of Bubble Yum and shared family times.
She cared for my grandmother in her twilight years with the deepest love and patience, embracing every moment with tenderness. She carried forward grandmother’s cooking and baking talents, crafting cakes and the famous Sunday “Koek en Tee” that tasted like home and happiness—experiences I now hold close in my heart.
Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t spend more time with her when I was younger, for I have missed out on many wonderful qualities and insights. Yet I am grateful for every moment we share now.
Tannie Ingrid, thank you for your unwavering love, support, and guidance. You are one of the three people who always make my Saturday list—your presence is a blessing, and I hold you in the highest regard. I send you all my love and hope to see you soon, with the warmth of a thousand hugs and the grace of a heart that knows its worth in Christ.
With all my love and gratitude!
(6 December 2025)
The Big Uncle.
Coming Soon!
Greece!
A Special Tribute to a Beautiful Place Called Greece
Greece has always held a gentle, sacred place in our hearts. The olive branches and the olives themselves stand as symbols of our family’s deep connection to that land—its people, its islands, its spirit. They remind us of the love and warmth that Mum and Dad carried with them each time they travelled there, year after year, spending a precious month together beneath the Greek sun.
For decades, Mum and Dad shared a dream. They nurtured it quietly, tenderly, like an olive tree growing slowly with time. Their dream was simple yet profound: that when Dad finally retired, they would spend every summer in Greece—our winter—breathing in the sea air, feeling the warmth, and living out the joy they had imagined for so long. But life, with all its fragility, changed that path. Mum passed just as Dad was entering that new chapter, and the dream they had built with such love went unrealised. This truth will always carry a sadness, yet it also holds a reminder of how precious time truly is.
The olive branches carry another meaning too—a deeply personal and heartfelt message for my sons. Though I have been painfully alienated from them, the branches reach out with love, not sorrow. They are a symbol of peace, of family, of unbroken bonds. They say, softly but clearly: No matter what has happened, we are blood. We share roots, history, and a future that can still be filled with warmth and understanding.
The past is behind us—unchangeable, but not defining. What truly matters is what we choose to do next. There is still time to build, to heal, to create new memories that are meaningful, loving, and lasting.
Just like the olive tree, love can endure. It can grow again. It can flourish in its own season.
(11 December 2025)
Our Gallery.
Discover our collection of creative work and visual projects.
Each piece has a story. We have only loaded up a fraction of his Art.
Every day he will loan up a piece of art and discuss it in detail.
Not that anyone would want to, but his art is not for sale.
They are all deeply personal and part of a very important life journey.
All Burnt Out!
On 17 July 2024, I walked out of my best friend’s home carrying a weight I could no longer hide. My mental health had unravelled, but pride held my voice silent — and in that silence, the fall came. It is a powerful reminder that untreated mental health challenges can take us to very dark and isolating places.
I had just returned from a gruelling four‑month trip to South Africa, where my father grew critically ill. What was meant to be a routine operation on a Wednesday became a life‑or‑death battle by Friday night, when doctors prepared us for the possibility that he might not survive.
Living with PTSD, Depression, and Anxiety has shaped my world in profound ways, leaving me with a psychosocial disability. One of its strongest expressions is extreme hypervigilance — a burden at times, but in this moment, it became a gift. And my father will tell you, without hesitation, that it saved his life. I observed everything with meticulous attention, watching every detail, every shift, every sign that something was wrong.
During those months, I cared for him in every sense — changing stomas, cooking his meals, monitoring his daily observations, and offering the quiet, unwavering presence only a loved one can give.
But ten days after returning home, the crash came. I hit a wall so hard it brought me to the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital, to the Mental Health Ward. And I am not ashamed. I am proud — proud of the work I have done, proud of how far I have come, and deeply grateful for the support of my family, my closest friend, and my dedicated medical team.
“All Burt Out” was the first painting I created in more than 40 years — born in November 2024 and reflected upon on 3 December 2025. It marks not just creativity, but rebirth, healing, and the courage to keep moving forward.
(Painted November 2024).
"Living In The Dark
or
The Light".
Not long after All Burt Out was in deep thought (Early December 2024).
I didn't have a canvas, and I was in the moment, but I had a spare curtain with sun Blocking on the back. I had bought some metallic paints weeks before at Bunnings.
I used to live my life in black and white which exacerbates my hypervigilance. One extreme to another!
If you look deep into the black side, you will see shadows of plants pointing up, but if it's all dark you wilt. If you are in the middle, you are confused. If you are in the light, you are bright and full of colour. It's an ongoing journey but I have learnt to say NO IT CAN WAIT!
I stuck it to the Wall with clear varnish it's a constant reminder!
Painted December 2024)
The Power Struggle.
We live on this place called earth. The only thing that is consistent is the inconsistency. Different countries different rules and law. Nobody stands equal before anyone.
The country you live in WHO decided and WHO gave WHO authority to create it and come up with all the rules. I believe on a rules-based society but not in discrimination and or equality.
The moon so peaceful, much smaller than earth but controls this place we live on. It's consistent in how it controls earth.
All the squares represent my very structured black and white thinking. Let's be honest the world is a mess, and we all stand and watch.
Lie on your back when it's full moon and admire the beauty of the moon "SO PEACEFUL" let's just hope humans don't go up there again and make a mess of it.
(Painted December 2024).
Solitude.
A reflection on solitude, happiness, and inner color.
Solitude can be a safe harbor—a place where I can be myself without masking or performance. I am comfortable in my own company, and I value the quiet space where thoughts settle, feelings quiet, and clarity arrives. This inner calm does not mean I reject connection; it means I choose balance, knowing that true well-being often grows from both inner resources and meaningful relationships.
Psychology teaches that solitude and social connection serve different but complementary roles. Solitude can boost creativity, self-understanding, and resilience. It can also help me recharge, set boundaries, and cultivate a sense of purpose. At the same time, human beings are social beings, and connection—whether with family, friends, or communities—often brings joy, support, and shared meaning.
If solitude feels fulfilling and not isolating, it can be a strength. The key is awareness: noticing when solitude nourishes me and when I might benefit from extending my circle, even in small ways. Happiness, then, is not a single destination but a harmony—a concert of inner peace, personal growth, and compassionate connection with others.
A gentle reminder to myself: I am allowed to seek both quiet and company. My worth is not measured by how much I surround myself with others, but by how honestly, I live with my own truth and how generously I relate to the world around me.
(6 December 2025 - Painted December 2024).
