I moved into my new flat on Friday evening: it has been the most stunning whirlwind and I am so pumped up for the year ahead. My right calf is very tender from too much scootering, and I should probably slouch on my bedroom carpet less – but I still don’t have the furnishings required… Continue reading Proud to be Flat Mum
Art humanises and grounds absolutely any political issue or conflict ever. People are moved by music, tears, poetry, photographs, paintings, novels and by sculpture. People are not emotionally affected by spreadsheets, statistics or mathematical equations (okay except maybe this guy*). When you marry the hard facts with the stuff that effects a person's kare-ā-roto, their… Continue reading Why We Need Art
On behalf of all white people, of all New Zealand Europeans who are called Sally or Paul or Abby, who didn't care enough to learn your name properly or your story, I apologise. You deserve better. A person's name is intrinsic and tied to their identity. It is part of who they are, and oftentimes… Continue reading To Anyone with an Ethnic or Indigenous Name
Suicide. Many people that I know, myself included, have contemplated it at difficult periods of our lives. My grandfather died by it – so I never got to meet him – and so did a fellow high school chorister. Those deaths will never ever escape my mind; both for different reasons. People need to come… Continue reading Suicide and the Value of Te Whare Tapa Whā
There are three things I choose to believe: At their core, people are good.* Everybody has shit to deal with. Hurt people hurt people. Most of the time we hide our mess and our problems and the things which we'd rather not have people see...things we're ashamed of, things that are too tender, things that… Continue reading Deep and Meaningfuls in the Kitchen
Isn’t it just borderline extraordinary to consider that everyone who has ever lived and who will ever be born has a unique narrative. Nobody knows the exact same combination of people, nobody has done the same thing in the same place at the same time while thinking the same thoughts as another, nobody has had… Continue reading Tripping on Words
I'm whiling away the last wee days of my teens, and it's odd. I know 20 is just a number, but it sounds confronting and like real adulthood, when really I know nothing will have changed - friends around me have already sashayed into their twenties without a hitch. I'll still be silly and strange… Continue reading Guise of Adulthood
