This print started in my head. It skipped my sketchbook entirely.

This photo was taken during sunset at our old home in Alberton. We had such a wonderful time in that home, and the sunsets were always spectacular. Unreal almost, with a touch of magical realism. We spent almost five years in that home – easily our five happiest years spent together. We made deep friendships and connected with the vast nature there that we were fortunate enough to be surrounded by.

So, if you had told me that I would uproot my happy little life in Alberton, to move to Pretoria, to be closer to our families, SO THAT WE COULD HAVE A CHILD, I would have thought you mad. Leaving Alberton was not on my to-do list, and having children was not on my life’s plan. I was not the maternal type who felt broody or dreamed of a big family one day. I was content to spend all my days with Mark and our fur-babies. Worse still, the more my mother insisted that, “one day you will feel differently”, the more I insisted I would not.

Friends were falling pregnant left, right and centre. Ensuring the population growth would steadily continue and I had all the reasons in my mind for why not having children was what I wanted. I was content. Mark, however, had always wanted a big family and dreamed of being a dad. He knew going into our relationship that we were not on the same page, and it was settled right from the get-go that we would not have children. We would be non-breeders. When people asked me when we are having kids, I either told them we do not want children, or, the more socially accepted version, “Not yet, we’re not ready”. There was a lot of pressure to have children, but it didn’t change my mind. Having a child was not something to casually happen upon, and until my mind was well and truly changed, I was not falling into the parent-club ‘trap’ unwillingly.

But then.

In the last two years something started to change though. I started becoming broody, but not in the way you would think. I started to see Mark with babies and children from friends and family members and I could tangibly feel his yearning for his own child. Something I couldn’t understand, or relate to, but was so real. My broodiness, on his behalf, grew until it overtook my own stubborn assuredness of not wanting to be a mother.

So when I finally realised that I did want a child, we moved back to Pretoria. Back home.

This piece, “When Pigs Fly” is about that surreal magical realism that happened in my heart slowly over the last few years. In a plot-twist to my own life’s planned narrative, I’m now sitting at home, five weeks left in this pregnancy and I could not be happier or more excited to be venturing into motherhood. With Mark by my side. And the fur-babies.

Turns out, pigs do fly. And they’ll be flying this July (we’re waiting, Fynch! Come on!).

The phrase “when pigs fly” is an adynaton—a figure of speech so hyperbolic that it describes an impossibility. The implication of such a phrase is that the circumstances in question will never occur. The phrase has been used in various forms since the 1600s as a sarcastic remark.

The Process:

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I started with an image in my mind’s eye of the piece I wanted to make. I knew Mark’s Instagram was full of beautiful photos to choose from, so I spent some time nostalgically going through his profile until I settled on this image.

I then used Photoshop to mock-up my concept. Using Mark’s photo and images I found on the internet, I combined these elements to create something visual that could represent what I was imagining the work to look like.

Once happy with the composition, I sketched out the image on a 60x60cm cartridge paper. At this point I simplify the images to fit my screenprinting style, while also adding in specific elements that form the visual vocabulary of my work – like the pink clouds. 

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Now it’s time to make the positives. This part is so meditative, but can also be really tricky – making sure that my registration between layers stays as close to perfect as I can get it. I make my positives with permanent markers on acetate.

The first layer I have created a positive for will actually be the last layer I print! And it will be the purple layer. It is my “key” layer which helps me keep all my other layers in registration.

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These are all the separate positives I have created for “When Pigs Fly”. Below is a GIF to show you how they each layer over each other, in the correct order I will be printing them: Light Pink, Dark Pink, Light Green, Dark Green, Purple, Aqua and yellow.

Now all that is left to do is expose each positive, and print the edition!