Tuti Island
Two decades ago, or thereabouts, I was in the Sudan. Last year, after returning my revised manuscript to the publishers, I thought about a snippet from life in North Africa, and a place called Tuti Island. The snippet begins with a walk along the river Nile, where I spotted some boys tormenting a small turtle they had fished. Feeling sorry for the turtle, and possibly unwisely, I handed over a few Sudanese pounds in exchange for the turtle. I headed off down the river, intending to release it, but everywhere I went, the curious boys followed. Unable to find a quiet spot, I took the turtle home, filled the sink with water and stones, and fed it flakes of fish. It wasn’t ideal, but then I heard about Tuti Island, a nearby place which friends were sure would offer a quiet spot for releasing the turtle. So one day I put the turtle in my basket, caught a bus, then a boat, arriving at the small island situated where the White Nile and Blue Nile meet. I found a deserted strip of sand, placed my turtle in the water, and watched it swim to freedom.
I never forgot that island, or the colours and designs the Sudan inspired. And so my recent painting is titled ‘Tuti Island’.
Christmas and New Year have been a series of quiet reflections. Following a year of ill health and loss, it’s a comfort to slow things down, to take deliberate note of the small details, and breathe the fresh air. With its dark evenings, crisp air and sodden ground, winter feels like the perfect time to just take the time, to take stock, to gain a wider perspective, to remember that the moment is now to create what we choose.
As a writer who also indulges in painting, I am no stranger to the blank page, and the blank canvas. And yet perhaps it’s never really blank to start with. We create, and we recreate, capturing moments, thoughts and lives we’ve known and returning them to us in fresh new forms.
The last decade saw my first novel published, the new decade promises more. So much of Return of the Mantra was inspired by life in Africa: people, places, situations I had known, recreating the real into an almost unrecognisable fantasy. The Warder picks up the story ten years on, and by this time it really does have its own life and momentum. I was particularly encouraged to see a recent comment on Twitter from a reader, saying how much they loved the character, Wanda. He was inspired by orphaned children I had known, out of a desire to create an unlikely hero, a gifted young boy. In book 2, aged 18, Wanda takes a more prominent role. Together with his female counterparts they are exposed to a land beyond their shores, and so continues their journey in understanding that the world is not a dichotomy of black and white, good and evil. Rather, it is shades of grey, cause and effect, where personal growth and self-discovery are essential in realising the effect each character has. Not too unlike the real world.
And on that note I wish you a Happy New Year and a peaceful new decade.
