Welcome to this stream of consciousness. Natty is WordPress’s word of the day and the obvious association I make has to do with clothes. More specifically, the wearer of clothes as in, “He is a natty dresser.”
I’ve just finished a syndicate assignment for Social Entrepreneurship where the enterprise we used was a fashion incubator so I am making another connection with natty. Let’s see where all these strands are going.
I’ve noticed a trend with regards to consultancies providing services to social enterprises in South Africa – there are those that are incubators and others that are accelerators. I don’t think it’s a linear process because not every new start-up needs help incubating – the business experience of the founders has a lot to do with this. Acceleration on the other hand provides advice on taking an existing organisation and helping it to achieve more. I am on board with the idea of incubation. I am a bit more sceptical about the whole idea of acceleration.
Acceleration reminds me of the zippy rental I drove for a week and a bit while my car was being fixed. Now that have my car back, it didn’t feel as zippy as the little one. But it did feel solid, hugging the corners as I accelerated out them.
My head is swimming with gross profit margins, ROI and net working capital ratios. You got it – it’s assignment time again – another one. Due tomorrow night. Numbers is not my forte – but those ratios are rather natty aren’t they? Especially if a natty social entrepreneur uses them to make an impact of society.
Featured image created with Canva.
I like Instagram for the simplicity of being able to post photos and tell a story in the process. Where I don’t always manage to blog, I probably have posted to Instagram. Here is my week in Instagram photos.
We’re busy with replacing the floors in the living area, and after a visit to the flooring people we needed a coffee and pastel de nata to make some decisions. We are still undecided though, about the flooring options…
I remembered with nostalgia the time I spent at MAAT in April. I did a photo essay, here.
Waiting for Che to pick me up after a day at a client. I saw the bridge over the road and imagined it being a tree-bridge, like a tree-house…
I also had a feedback session for my Action Learning Project this year.
I hope you have a wonderful week!
PS: I know I have been distant of late. I have written about it but not posted the post yet. Maybe next week. Who knew that pressing the “publish” button could be so not easy.
It is amazing that living things found on land resemble those living under the sea. And lest I forget, the mushrooms in the pic below, which resemble the blue bottles of the sea, also have a close resemblance to a non-organic human accessory, the umbrella – used on land – by people.
The tops of the mushrooms appear too heavy for their thin stems, looking ready to topple over at any time. Their milky whiteness invite a bold hand to touch them just to make sure that they are real. Their texture, soft and pliable to the eye may just belie hidden deception.
Nature is resilient and has had millennia of experience in protecting itself. It is not by chance then that uncanny resemblances that radiate across species has evolved over time ensuring the survival of even the most simple organisms.
Random image writing exercise prompt found here.
The image is free to download for my personal use.
Thanks to Heritage Snapper and Imageafter.com for the image.
Also entered in WordPress’s daily prompt – Radiate.
I spent the last two days on a training course, this time as a delegate. For the introductions we had to interview another person and write key attributes on separate stickie notes. As I look on how the other person interpreted what I said, I saw something unexpected, surprising and pleasant reflected back at me…a gradual and gentle shift awakening to a new version of me infused with excitement. Take a look at the photo below.
A forest of anchors the iron hot to the touch, sit like silent sentinels against incursions from the sea. Half buried in the soft white sand of the dunes they are a stark reminder of long ago battles, the thin shadows offering no reprieve from the baking sun.
Wreck shore, they called it, the wood long ago rotted away, the row of anchors the only reminder of battering storms, of life boats hurriedly lowered and of prayers uttered aloud to an unseen god, asking for a reprieve.
The harsh sun beat down upon the thin strip of beach, its sand white against the starkness of the yellow desert beyond. Sand against sand, separated by a black line of anchors. A broken sign lies half buried in the sand, the bits of paint barely holding on to the wood showing a picture of the skull to those who cared to look – the sign offering no reprieve to those who had made it that far.
Image downloaded with permission from Writing Exercises.