Tuesday, July 29, 2014

High on a Hill

November 17, 2008 by  
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Listening to the tributes about my great grandmother Moewaka Jane Rapana (or Nama as she was affectionately called) it wasn’t hard to imagine her walking between us all standing there. It seemed fitting that she would rest on the high hill overlooking her beloved

Human Documents

October 30, 2008 by  
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In the beginning, driving between Napier and Taupo (on State Highway 5) is sort of like playing snakes and ladders. It requires alot of concentration due to the serpentine nature of the hills around Te Haroto particularly since

Tripping

October 29, 2008 by  
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Travelling up north again after all these years of being away my eyes feel fresh, eager to see and vociferously guzzle in the sights. I feel like I’ve been in a desert these past few years, the backside of it! I’m going to Haranui, to the marae of my great great grandmother Moewaka Jane, I’d […]

Pie in the Eye

September 24, 2008 by  
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I love that the cold air is unapologetic about the way it thwacks you across the face no matter how undeserving we think we might be of such treatment. Have you ever wished you could do that to someone you feel has a complete knack for

Listening to Quiet

September 3, 2008 by  
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I love to listen to Quiet. I have a sense at times that he’s listening right back as intently as I am to him. We’re respectful toward each other, more so now, than in the beginning when we were both young and had no

Like a Moth in the Headlights

August 14, 2008 by  
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This morning I was watching blossom drift down from the heights. When that happens, they have the same effect on me as snowflakes, there’s something completely disarming and enchanting about their dizzying flutter.

Safety in Numbers

July 19, 2008 by  
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Trust can seem so fragile. How fragile? As fragile as a single cobweb strung between the branches of two trees, or a hairline crack in glass that hasn’t shattered completely? Nothing malevolent about that I guess! Maybe,

Little Red Mon-star

June 2, 2008 by  
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What is it about a three and a half year old monster that brings out the best in us? Oh did I mention he was red? Apologies, small oversight on my part. Actually that’s human years. Three and a half, human years. In monster years that makes him

Taking the Time

May 27, 2008 by  
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It’s an interesting habit we have, this one, of stowing old loves (their letters and or their pictures usually or both) between the pages of some much-loved book or somewhere equally safe. Why is that do you think? To keep the memory of them warm or

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