Feel It!

As Kate Bush once sang:

oh feel it

Oh oh feel it

feel it my love

(Feel It from 'The Kick

Inside')

Yesterday I fell in love with Piha, again, as ever, as always. The sand felt so silky on my feet, the sky so blue, the water cold but clear.

I took photos, lost myself in the rock pools, drank all the colours into my eyes, let the wind caress me, the sky smile on my pale skin.

On Thursday I'd gone and seen a show with Andrew, a really disappointing attempt at Cabaret.

Painful stuff; I dreaded writing the review. Part

of me wanted to completely crush them; they were charging money for what came across as the losing entrants of a poorly organised talent quest.

There were just way too many sloppy dance routines performed by a majority of terrified and sexless young women. Sure, their suspenders and stockings looked fine, but suspenders and stockings alone does not sexy make. There has to be an attitude and sense of knowing that goes with it, or that can be conjured from inside. I would have told all of them to pleasure themselves before getting onstage if I'd been the director.

Picture: The Crab of Love.

Speaking of pleasure ... let's get back to Piha. It felt like being caressed by something infinite, that the infinite within me was being drawn out.

I particularly enjoyed observing the crabs, well, I enjoy observing almost anything in nature really. The tentacles of an anemone moving in the water, it's as if it's in my own body, all this nature.

Unfolded by peace

salted by the sea

all this nature

moves in me

I don't know how long I spent looking at crabs. I do get lost in time. The tide was low. I stopped and lay down in the sun even though it was getting late and the wind was cool. I read a few pages from 'Honey and Dust' by Piers Moore Ede.

He quotes a bee keeper who wrote some poetry, and one phrase really did it for me:

the vault of heaven

Am I too easily pleased? Well so be it. But that little fragment really sank into me as I lay on the sand, felt the wind, smelt the ocean. I fell into an almost-sleep, that lovely in between place of healing and rest.

Eventually I got up and walked around to the tidal pool, then decided to try and scramble up an untracked part of hill. I imagined that it would have converged with a real track somewhere on the ridge line, but unfortunately my imagination and reality didn't match up.

I ended up scrambling up crumbling dirt, grabbing hold of rotten branches, convincing myself that this was going to be great, like being 12 and having a grand adventure.

It was only once I started trying to force my way through gorse in jandals and a summer dress that I had to admit defeat. I nearly fell over completely on my bum in the gorse and realised I didn't want to spend the rest of the evening removing pricks.

Left: the view from my inspired climb into gorse.

I'd worked up a sweat and so took a dip in the tidal pool. I admired the tiny jellyfish, and kept stepping on crabs, so had to swim with my jandals on. It felt so good though, the water like cool silk, salt on my lips, that same feeling of being with an infinite love.

That was after 7pm, I was exhausted from my impromptu hill climb, and all I could think about was cheese on toast.

Lately I toast my bread and put on onion jam, blue cheese, tomatoe, fresh basil and then a layer of organic yet generic cheese, then grill it. It is SO YUMMY.

So I felt at one with the Universe, horny as hell, happy and whole.

Men: funny creatures!

I got a lovely text from this man I had a date with over a month ago. Let's call him The Lethal Weapon, as he is some kind of marital arts expert who said he is literally registered. Yes, registered as a lethal weapon.

He can't respond aggressively if some dick wants to take him on, because he could actually kill him very easily. What I liked about this guy is that he was very gentle. Very calm.

I assumed he wasn't keen because he didn't ask me out again (I know, the gall, to come to such a conclusion!).

So out of the blue I got this text saying 'well I didn't hear from you, so I guess you're not keen'. Funny bunny. So got that sorted, and he's now on my radar. Today I got a nice text from The Man who is away in Dunedin this week, and tomorrow I have a coffee date with a guy who I haven't yet pigeon holed. Thank god I've gone off FSO, there's enough to be going on with as it is. I'm not even counting the weekly texts from Wylie, I can truly see him as he is now.

Well it's my birthday next week, so I'm going to continue on in this delicious vein ... oh that reminds me ... had a really gory dream last night. Lots of blood. Blood leaking out of big water pipes in a factory, a dead body stuffed up in a wardrobe, people getting pissed off with each other. I wasn't as stressed in the dream as you'd imagine. I didn't even wake up.

Maybe it's all about this life in me, how good I felt being in nature, and that somehow made me think of death, of blood, of life and it's amazing delicacy.

Or maybe I just have really vivid weird dreams sometimes?

After the amazing day at sea, in bush, gorse up my skirt, I went home, made my cheese on toast, poured a glass of cold white wine, ran the bath and put in half a packet of Epsom salts ...

Sat in the bath eating my cheese on toast, the water really bouyant from the salts.

Blissed out.

Wishing you bliss. Meow for now.