My colleague and Mentor Elmarie Hugo (Meant, or, Mentor the mysterious teacher of Odysseus (in actuality the goddess Athena) who appears in different guises, appearing as an unexpected friendly acquaintance. Where in the world, can you sundance with Eland at school, while learning what’s two plus zero plus two…
…A wizardress christian Express, almost not serious…Elmarie, the artist a priori of Yzerfontein Academy. You have created iets besonders uniek.
Here’s the full poem on pdf:
https://thezenolympiad.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/catapults-me-sondeysze.pdf
Then, we have: ”The Sirenes of Language”
Here is the pdf:
https://thezenolympiad.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/the-sirenes-of-language.pdf
Gazing at a rendition of The Flying Bushmen, one perceives that the eye, being ever in motion, like a bird a’ flutter, is causing the figures in the found landscape before you, to move. Then you see through.
During a melodic astringent ”wine affair” in Windedal, I mean Citrusdal, Antoinette saved our bacon with supra real ochre patches, which balanced with spectral essays forth from the colour wheels of squared stone. The following week Saturday, Grade 2-5 learners from Yzerfontein Academy compassed the communal spacetime Bushmanland with intrigues from the realm of Believe, Bardo of the Second-born.
The firstborn are elves, they await over the wine-rich sea, and under feet and nose.
During her tenure in Groot ”Macondo” Marico, Jeannine Davidoff accomplished appetizing feats, one of which was happy feet in the form of Happy Toes, which she managed by stimulating the farm through a voluntourism model program wherein people from across the world could commune around a campfire, drumbeats criss-crossing.
It was on that pasture that Jeannine multiplied her predilection for gardening, the wandering Gypsey sprit eagerly awaiting broth soup fashioned from vegetables in the garden. When the big rains of 2020 swept away the carpet from under society’s fabric feet, Jeanine made to move on, but not before harvesting a harvest moon abundance of produce and veldkos.
Here is Jeanine at her level best, with a precious gift: The South African planting and companion planting guide:
To get in touch with Jeannine, please email her at jeanninedavidoff@gmail.com
Newton discovered mass as gravity; Einstein discovered Energy as mass and light;
This one finds, I find (Heurisko!):
Where C represents consciousness moving or pervading beyond form
while m is mass/matter and e is energy, Me; divided by f, frequency and w, wavelength (approaches to light, C)
^$%&^*O((
This jesterly gentle-joust, I append to “We are the world: inner and outer space in Science”, with a pinch of salt!
Thus Magnificent Zorro, the blunderer Elf, suggests:
C = E x M x Z ‘/. F x W (Cp) x Z where:
Consciousness is eqivalent to form and formlessness divided by spacetime, that is
Creation, divided into uncountable morphing life, unified by multiplication, the inverse, and expressed as:
The totality of forms and their respective energies (M x E) and the respective void spaces (gaps, Z), divided by the totality of vibrations (Frequencies F and their respective wavelengths W = Consciousness/ Light potential), and the Void, Z.
Ironically, we quantify the Void in our multiplication, because it nevertheless contributes to the totality. Even if we make Void 0, we are still left with a whole number concept when we divide totality by individual form, neutral Zero, the Invisible One.
This can be potentially applied to Individual Forms (vibrational clusters) in a state of elctrodynamical morphing, as
Cform = m e z ‘/. f w z
The teachings of the Zen Olympiad have landed at a new school! Terra Incognito, Yzerfontein, betwixt an Eland and a soft place…
Learn the first lesson, on inner and outer space in Science, here:
Click to access we-are-the-world-inner-and-outer-space.pdf
From 31 July to 16 September 2026, the Old Village Art Gallery in Citrusdal is running the following exhibition:
The following artworks by Etienne van Bart will be included in the exhibition:
The holographic enigma of rock art (2025); acrylic paint on paper; 42.2×30.1cm
The Dorpshuys (2026); engraving – oil pastel and acrylic on paper; 26x34cm
[The above two artworks will join two watercolour paintings already on exhibition]:
Preamble – by Frederik van Bart
”Of human baggage we don’t ask release,
but to dance and sing in the
resonances of the seasons; stops and starts in the mind.
Flow with the wind and await its
stillness which is always there somewhere and
hear the empty spaces of nescience (not knowing).”
– Frederik van Bart
Download The Dorpshuys by Etienne van Bart here:
Click to access the-dorpshuys-2026.pdf
How does one name a baby? What is the first thought? Does the designation emerge out of an emulsion? Do the letters pull towards each other across the water tension of an alphabet soup? Perhaps a vision quest, but someplace regular, like beside a pool where you sit on the shade of the bleached body-corporate umbrella and think about your life, the lineage of worms and bacteria that brought you here to this unworkshoppable premise.
The nameless child. No name is brave enough, the heritage is made-up, exaggerated. There is no shelter of a grandparent’s name. The permafrost melts and tragically there are no ancient diseases, no long-toothed mammals, just ice-blue melt, mocking the being that up until now has been a loose cellular construction, unrestrained by walls, just sensation. Without the pigskin to hold it, there is just a massed crowd, silent, watching, expectant. They wait for the name.
The child is older now and has no pronouns. This person has realised that by nodding, and asking enough observant questions, one can be unnamed for years. Often confused with others, but not with affront or protest. Without a silhouette to break it, the horizon runs on, uninterrupted. Then, one warm evening on a hotel rooftop in southern Johannesburg, something divine turns this being over like a stone in the surf. The name arrives in a light that brings with it a logic as inescapable as gravity. “I’m Him” are the only words that make it into the Notes app.
His head is spinning and he has to sit down. Words are plastic, a tangible melange.
“I am Jesus Christ.”
The Zen Olympiad 