I am pleased to share the cover of my latest children’s story!

The book is not yet available, but it will be in the very near future!

Here is a description of the book:

Mulungu and Rock Rabbit is a warm, witty celebration of friendship, identity, and the wonder of being a one-off.

Set against the vast red sands and star-spangled skies of the Kalahari, this beautifully illustrated tale follows 10-year-old Mulungu and his curious companion, Rock Rabbit.

Hopscotch tournaments, shadow games and races to the Acacia tree islands are all part of their playful day.

Rock Rabbit asks a very big question: why is he the only rabbit in the Kalahari Desert?

Mulungu explains what it means to be truly unique……. this unfolds into a joyful adventure with laughter, San people traditions and the magic of a landscape alive with meerkats, lions and sunsets.

With playful dialogue, gentle wisdom, and detailed scenes, this story invites young readers to see themselves as one-offs to…..special, unrepeatable and important just as they are.

A closing section offers a child-friendly glimpse into San people’s culture and the Kalahari, sparking curiosity well beyond the final page.”

I will keep you informed as to the whereabouts of this book.

Now back to the adult’s perspective of being a one-off!

Our uniqueness and our awareness as to that full potential within us, can get lost through life’s journey.

We can easily recognise the artists style, uniqueness, energy, but let’s not forget that real connection is within all of us.

Here are the thoughts of Dwayne Walker on the uniqueness of an artist.

“Every artist believes they’re unique.

Their voice is different.

Their pain is different.

Their vision is different.

Their fear is different.

And in a way, that’s true…

Our style is ours.

Our lens is ours.

Nobody else can make the exact thing we’re here to make.

But underneath all our differences, most artists carry the same quiet hunger.

We want to be understood. We want to make something that matters. We want to stop feeling invisible. We want proof that our work isn’t pointless. We want to be witnessed without being rejected.

And the moment we realize that…

Other artists stop looking like rivals.

And they start becoming reflections.

In the mirrors of our humanity.

And I think this at the root of almost every real connection between two people.

Because most disconnection comes from the illusion that we are experiencing life alone.

I think my fear is only mine.

You think your pain is only yours.

So I protect my story.

You protect yours.

And so we end up as two people standing right in front of each other, both wanting to be understood. Both afraid of being rejected. Both hoping the other person makes the first move toward vulnerability.

And all it takes is just one honest move. And suddenly, the distance between us collapses.

Revealing that we share the same humanity…

So for creators to connect, we have to stop confusing difference with distance.

We have to stop compare whose work is better.

Instead, we should recognize that the fear underneath our work is often the same.

One artist is afraid they’ll never be seen. Another is afraid they’ll be seen and still not be enough. Another is afraid they already missed their moment. Another is afraid their best work is behind them.

Different rivers. Same water.

And I think this is where real creative community begins.

Not when we all pretend to be the same.

But when we stop using our uniqueness as walls.

We build walls around our voice, our pain, our process, our opportunities, our knowledge. We think we’re protecting what makes us special. But eventually, the thing we built to preserve our identity becomes the thing that keeps us disconnected.

The irony is, when we finally admit what we have in common, we don’t become less ourself.

We become more free.

Free to collaborate on goals that one person can’t champion alone. Free to be vulnerable without feeling weak. Free to share knowledge without feeling replaceable. Free to celebrate someone else’s gift without questioning our own.

That’s why I make my videos. That’s why I write these emails. Everyday I wake up trying to put language to the things we feel but rarely say out loud.

Because every time we reveal that we are not as separate as we think, we become stronger.

Individually.

And together.

We are all rivers convinced we are separate streams.

But every river is made of the same water.

The goal may not have been to protect ourselves from merging.

Maybe the goal was to realise that when we finally do…

We don’t disappear.

We become the ocean”.

 

 

Enjoy whatever you are creating this week.

Pauline