This charcoal collection is rooted in the lived and inherited experiences of Black South Africans—an echo of struggle, resilience, and the unbroken spirit that has shaped our identity. Although it draws from the painful realities of apartheid, the work is not anchored in suffering. Instead, it honours what our people have built in spite of oppression: culture, dignity, community, and an unyielding capacity for hope.

Each piece becomes a bridge between the past and the present, carrying the voices of our ancestors through gesture, shadow, prayer, and song. The charcoal, raw, earthy, and elemental, embodies both memory and renewal. These artworks invite the viewer to feel the weight of history while being lifted by the resilience that defines us.

Ultimately, this body of work is a quiet offering: a reminder that our stories are sacred, that our survival is creative, and that our journey continues to move forward with strength, grace and hope.

This series emerged from a moment of personal frustration and constraint. Without access to canvas or traditional materials, I had to confront the question of whether I would allow circumstance to delay my creative process. Cardboard — found, discarded and overlooked — became my surface, and in that choice the work began to take shape. What started as necessity quickly became a transformative practice.
Boxes arrive in the world as containers of anticipation. Someone waits for them, opens them and experiences an emotional charge as the contents are revealed. Once emptied, I take the very same package, break it open and allow it to fall into a free-form shape. In doing so, I release the object from its original purpose and recharge it by creating art on it. In some way, I give it more potential and continue the conversation between myself, the material and the environment.

Each piece operates like a journal entry, drawn from conversations and reflections on the city, religion, belief, society and the human condition. The use of found cardboard and scrap paper, together with whatever mark-making tools were available, is not only an aesthetic decision but also a clear reflection of my economic reality at the time. It is equally a response to environmental concerns and the ongoing conversation around climate change, waste and material survival.
The colours and shapes are inspired by the Ndebele art introduced to me in childhood through my late grandmother, Bakhambile Hlophe, and by the colourful garden she tended with care. These memories surface in the work as both inheritance and grounding, shaping the rhythm and energy of the compositions. In some way, this work is my own search for freedom.
This process brought me back to childhood, to memories of constructing toys from wire, tins and whatever we could find. In many ways, this series continues that lineage of resourcefulness and imagination. It is a call and response between material and memory, between limitation and possibility. The work looks and feels different because it is grounded in experimentation, self-discovery and the continual questioning of what art can be made from, and why.

This collection marks a pivotal shift in my practice — one that has continued to evolve into my current body of work.