It's nearly 2012. Shit!

Another oldie ... seems to fit with the vibe though.






Pictures: Mum and Claire at Piha RSA on Boxing day, Claire on her phone thing at Piha, a few pics from White Beach ... and my reunion with Lou and Becks!

I've done a little witchy ritual to let go of any fears and anxieties from 2011, and to invite in what I want for 2012. Lit candles, burnt the list of the unwanted.



The collective unconscious must be gathering speed; I can feel change in my body if I sit still. It feels like a wave in me. The way you feel when you've been on a boat or jumping around in waves all day at the beach, only it's in my blood or that which we might call Soul.

I've asked Jesus and Lady Death, two wonderful representations of divinity I feel I can relate to, to give me a bit of a hand this year. I already notice what's been at work - old and tired energies are leaving. Friendships are shifting too. I actually did a prayer to Lady Death regarding people in my life: show me what I need to let go of and bring in that which is good. That week some pretty amazing shit happened, but I'm not at liberty to describe all of it as I'm still unsure as to what's happening in a friendship.

I've been re-reading some of "Women Who Run With The Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Estes is a Jungian analyst who 'draws on a huge range of myths and stories to teach us how we can reclaim, and rejoice in, our true feminine power'.

Lady Death/Skeleton Woman:

'If it is love we are making, even though we are apprehensive or frightened, we are willing to untangle the bones of the Death nature. We are willing to see how it all goes together. We are willing to touch the not-beautiful in another, and in ourselves. ....
Archetypally, to untangle something is to make a descent, to follow a labyrinth, to descend into the underworld or the place where things are revealed in an entirely new way, to be able to follow a convoluted process ...
Fear is a poor excuse for not doing the work. We are all afraid. It is nothing new. If you are alive, you are fearful." (Pg 147 and 148, WWRWTW.)


I'm trusting that the Divine (higher self whatever you want to call it) knows what it's doing if I'll just listen and let things unfold. Know my boundaries, be clear about my intentions, then watch what happens. Speak my truth without trying to guilt anyone out. Admit when I'm a dick. Walk away if someone else is too much of a dick. Sounds quite simple when I put it like that really.

What I also want is to bring a loving meaning to the world. I don't mean I have to touch a million souls. Just a few is enough for me. I know I've done it before. I want to keep doing it.

Years ago an old flatmate rang me out of the blue. I hadn't seen her for years.
"I just wanted to thank you" she said.
"Oh! For what?"
"Well when I was in that flat it was one of the hardest times of my life, and I don't know if I would have lived if you weren't there."

If ever I'm feeling a bit down, I need to remember that. I made a big difference to someone. She thinks I helped save her life. All I ever did was hug her when she walked in the door, looked into her drug fucked eyes and kept telling her I loved her. That was long ago. She didn't keep in touch, and I knew why. Some experiences from that time had to be left behind, and I was part of that history. It doesn't hurt me because I get it. I love her still, though she's not someone I ever see.

So the theme song now would be 'wave of mutilation'.

Happy new year


Love to you all. Keep with it. xxx

Christmas Day, Boxing Day, Hey Hey Hey.

Christmas day was good in it's way, but tried to cram in a bit too much, you know how it can be. It was really nice having a blended random family breakfast at Mission Bay with Tieneke, her son J, her brother, mother, father and her brother's friend. My Mum came too of course, and the breakfast was really good. I had french toast with bacon and bannana. It probably wasn't a happy pig (raised lovingly, killed quickly), but I swallowed any guilt and enjoyed the meal.

After the breakfast mum and I went back to my place, fell into a dead sort of sleep and then were awoken by Karen texting me asking when we were arriving. Karen is my Uncles' ex wife; we were invited over to have Christmas turkey with her, the kids and Rob, her funny and kind fiancee. One of Rob's sons and his girlfriend were also there, and it was really easy and enjoyable. So lovely to have a few family members who care. Hey man, it's quality, not quantity as they say. Just as well really.





Song of choice today has to be one of my favourites of all time, The Slider.
"I have never ever kissed a car before, it's like you don't." Well done Marc Bolan. He refrained from kissing or driving cars but it didn't prevent him being killed in one.




It's pouring with the kind of warm December rain one comes to expect. I went and had a long lunch with Lou and Becky in Devonport and was once more privy to this amazing easiness of connection; you'd think I might feel rather out of the loop, but I don't. We all have filthy senses of humour which helps immensely. Actually, maybe it more than helps. It's essential.

I'm continuing to date, getting lots of attention on ye olde dating site and have recently had a few hook ups with someone, but we're not comapatible really. He's not very relaxed, and I don't tick a couple of boxes on his wee list either, so that's cool.

It was still nice to enjoy a bit of affection and attention. It's funny with the 'list' thing. My list goes something like "tall, funny, relaxed, a bit odd in some way, hopefully a biggish nose, kind, silly, good taste in music, likes art ... loves swimming in the ocean with me". Carolyn Cranshaw did challenge it when I went and saw her for hypnotherapy. She had said "what if you met someone and he was perfect, but he wasn't so into swimming in the sea". I said "absolutely no deal." Funnily enough, one of my outings with the Painter was at Piha, and he didn't come into the sea with me. He sat on the beach smoking. And I didn't mind. So the list thing can be a little bit bullshit really, though it can be handy to know what you really will not tolerate. I've decided that someone being too much of a dick is off-putting. A little bit of a dick, that's fine!




Anyway, all this focus on boys, it's nutbar city. Time to calm the fuck down. Becky reckons I might need to go to Loveaholics Anonymous (ok, it's not called that, but you get the gist).

I have such gorgeous and loving friends, and on Boxing day went on what turned out to be a bit of a wine picnic with Claire, Mum and Peter. It was so lovely and relaxed. Peter had bought wine, strawberries and blueberries and we all just sat on the beach, drank and picked at the red and blue fruit. God knows what we were all talking about. We then went on to the RSA, and I was already a bit intoxicated by this time. I'd forgotten to eat enough during the day which is not like me at all.

The fish n chips at the RSA was AMAZING. GOD. Fuck. Yum.
Hey, that'd be a good name for a band "Godfuckyum". Anyhoo, the snapper was so tender and the chips utterly perfect.

The day after boxing day Peter and I went over to White Beach. He was Mr Speedy Arse and basically run over, but I always take that journey easy. I like going slowly, feeling the energy of the land and trees seeping into me as I slow down the usual chatter in my head. I wasn't offended that he went ahead though, it was fine. Went for a bracing swim and then took photos when the tide was low. We both went off into our own little worlds taking pictures.

White Beach

Holy
heavy honey bones
fleshed on land
rockpool eyes
soft inner thighs

the sea
in me
in me
in me

feel the spaces
unfathomable

a chorus of clouds overhead

CNL





As usual, I felt something shift after walking over to White Beach and back. It seems like there's something really powerful about that area. Went to the RSA again for din dins (this time a lamb buger!).

I went to Bikram Yoga yesterday (first time in four days) and it was really intense. The girl next to me fainted. I was sweating so much it looked like I'd just immersed myself in a pool. I watched my reflection. I stared into my own slightly bloodshot eyes and thought "so what are you going to do with this determination?".
Create meaning. What else is there?

Create meaning.

Christmoo Eve! I'm content! Yes, really!!!

Christmoo Eve:

Well my little reindeer pies, it's been a right whirlwind of delights lately, and no, I'm not being sarcastic.

Last Wednesday, thanks to Tamasin's kind persistence, I ended up joining her and associated posse to see Andrew Keoghan playing at the Q bar. I found his music incredibly healing and transformative. His voice is really pure; something holy in me unfolded in the hushed light. I particularly like gigs where it's quite small, still personal somehow.

On Thursday I went to Bikram Yoga and took ages to recover at the end of the class. I lay there breathing through my nose like a woman in labour (well, the ones I've seen on TV anyway). I then had burgerfuel (mmm) and onto Golden Dawn to meet up with Lou and Becky. Now folks, these are girls I went to high school with, and in all honesty, I never imagined I'd feel the need to truly re-connect with anyone from high school again. Fortunately facebum made me see the error of my ways and these two fine women are now back in my life in a very real way.





It was amazing to sit and look at people who are at once completely familiar and yet you do not know what's been going on for them for 15 to 20 years. You only know via a social network, and it's a social network in which it's possible to manipulate your image for better or worse. Even if depressed you'd be able to paste on a smile and put it on Facebum to prove you're actually ok. Or maybe you're trying to show the world you're moody, mysterious and not about to let the facebum founders get any free marketing info, so you pretend you're a man if you're a woman and put up one of those Walmart shopper pictures for your profile.

Heart Magical, not Mental Magical:

Er, yes, getting back on track. Becky now lives in New York and is here on holiday, Lou is in Devonport with her husband and yet we were talking as though we'd only seen each other the previous week. Actually, it was better. It was far better than I could have imagined, because now it's like we're the technicolour version of our childish selves. We're coloured in. We have lines. We have stories. We have an awareness of the story itself and how we choose to tell it. It was magical, and I don't mean mental magical, I mean heart magical. That feeling, that 'being seen-ness', and also the privilege of seeing. The wisdom of these two, the tenderness of heart, it was that feeling of 'home' in another soul.

Afterwards I called in to say hello to Alice as she was supporting her man playing in a band up the road. Music was not exactly my cup of tea, but it was good to see sweet Alice.

Another reunion: Handsome Rob!

So on Friday, I got to see Rob! Now I don't know if you'd remember that I did a foundation year of art and design in 1992. That's the one where my friendship with Chris continued, and I used to sit at this table with the boys. I recall this girl Sally who was in our class. That's the Sally who had the misfortune to marry Mathew Ridge. She was quiet and stuck with the only other girl in the class who'd gone to 'Dio'. The boys all used to get instant hard-ons around Sally.

I had the gall to ask her what it was like to 'look the way you do' on one occasion, and she got really pissed off and said "I'm just like anyone else". I said "well yeah, except you look like a model, so surely you must have to deal with a different set of reactions" (As I sat with the boys I knew they were in awe of her long limbed, blonde be-blazered glory). There was a girl in the class who started wearing a blazer to copy Sally. We all knew it. I don't remember her name. Sally couldn't deal with my direct questioning about the beauty myth (ha ha, that hadn't come out yet) but seemed insulted. She might have pondered it since, but then, maybe not. A nice enough girl though. Wore blazers very well.

Ah, got distracted there didn't I? Well, back to Handsome Rob. Rob was one of the most brilliant artists in the class. He and Chris had that incredible technical proficiency coupled with imagination. I had imagination. Rob did things far beyond all expectation, he was a fucking genius.

We remained friends for a number of years beyond art school, and much of our connection involved way too much drinking, talking and thinking. It's now a bit of a mystery as to how the friendship tapered off. Perhaps it was because I spent so much time with Sarah and now spent every weekend binge drinking with her? I can't quite remember to be honest. There were overlaps. There were (eek) casks of red wine. There were more embarrassing stories than you took shake a dirty old stick at.

What I remember of Rob was his intelligence, gentleness, excess drinking and amazing level of talent. Seeing him this week was incredible. He's the most amazing man. He's married a woman he is clearly deeply in love with, and he's as kind, insightful and gentle now as he was 20 years ago. Now it's mellowed. It's fucking gold! Alchemy in people is the most beautiful thing to ever behold. I am so looking forward to meeting his wife at some point.

Dinner with Simon

So last night I had dinner with Simon. A very nice dinner at a posh set up on the waterfront. No, I'm not back in love with him, but it was good to see him, and sure, there is an amazing physical chemistry. That's ok. I have it in perspective.

Afterwards I called in to the Thirsty Dog because Fliss was playing keyboards in a metal covers band. It was already late, and I lost her. I drank a lemon lime and bitters and observed the crowd. The first band up were this throwback to the eighties, M.O.M. Was it ironic? I don't know. I grew weary and left. I couldn't cope with the leather trousers.

I fell into bed when I got home. Yes. Content. No anxiety wheels turning. Free and floating into dreams.

Yes, more Internet Dating, but I'm gonna be tough(ish)

Something better change. It's an old song for the new year.

Thing is, things have changed so fast and so often, I feel like I can barely keep my head on at times. Fret not, it is affixed fairly well, and I am truly appreciative of those who have contributed to this state!

Had a lovely avo with da mamma yesterday. She made me nice sandwitches (witches?) and we had some really funny conversations that cheered me up immensely. Ah, one was a play on words. I was being horrible about some old trout (can't even think of who I was slandering now) and pondering if she'd had a hysterectomy. Mum thought I'd said a 'mysterectomy'. So we decided that was a good word anyway. Mum made up the definition to follow:

Mysterectomy: something has been removed, but you're not sure what it is.

Been busy with social engagements as one does tend to be at this time of year. Had a nice drinks date last night with a blue-eyed Canadian. He was very handsome, nice, possibly a little highly strung. Yes yes, I know, what the fuck ... I'm back on Internet Dating! Ha ha!

Geeze, you'd think The Painter would have put me off until the new year wouldn't you? But I think I'm going to just be a bit tougher about it this time. I think it's not really what was done, but how it was done. I need to remember that he wasn't actually trying to hurt me. People are funny and confused, especially if they have a history of addiction and mental illness, I should know that by now. It's all a learnin' that's for sure. Still learning and always will be.

Here is a weeeeeee poem for your pleasure:

The Undoing

Between Jesus and Lady Death
I lay down
and innocence undid me

we are naked
unashamed
reaching for the tears
that wash away this fear
of being seen

I saw you
I sipped upon your sorrow
I did not turn away.



Merry Christmas to those who see, who stay, who do not turn away. And merry Christmas to those figuring out how to do it. ;)

727 / Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight) * THE RAMONES

Another classic Christmas song.

The first time I heard this was when my friend Chris Skelton made me a mixed tape that included The Cramps classic 'bikini girls with machine guns' and this really dirty sounding version of 'No Particular Place to Go'. I've still never found out who sang that version, but I liked how the agressive and frustrated sounding singer makes it pretty clear that the stuck seat belt is getting in the way of sexy times.

Update: I think it was The Meteors, but if you look on Youtube you can't find the version I heard which was live and incredibly raw.

I was a confused 21 year old. I was still a Christian, but horny, musically curious and longing for Chris Skelton to figure out he was actually in love with me. He wore a leather jacket, his dyed black hair sprayed into a fifties quiff, his love of Elvis equal only to his love of executing precise art. While he never fell in love with me, hanging out with him and his lapsed Catholic friends was a pretty good second. I was sort of like a sister. None of them wanted to fuck me, and most of them were deeply in love with drugs. The Chilli Peppers sang about Catholic school girls and how they ruled, and I felt Catholic boys might have merited a song of their own.

I made two friends on that Pre-Graphic Design TOPS course (these were courses for those languishing on the dole), one was Chris, and the other Jacinda Klouens. I was still brimful of preachin's n teachin's, but that wasn't going to stop me borrowing Jacinda's records and falling in love with The Pixies. Until that point my music tastes consisted mainly of Janis Joplin, T-Rex, Kate Bush and The Who. I used to feel like Marc Bolan was singing for me, and this was when many of my peers were listening to Duran Duran or Wham . I had joined the A-ha bandwagon when I was 14 though. I liked the key-board player. He didn't look as delicate as Morten Harkett, a man prettier than I could ever hope to be.

The TOPS course was pretty amazing, we got given decent materials and good tutors, and we had a really excellent group. There was Adam, a handsome boy, the one I should have had a crush on. He came to Auckland one weekend and stayed at my house once the course had finished, but I blew it by talking about Chris. I had this sort of delayed realisation that Adam was actually pretty hot, but he wouldn't communicate with me after that weekend. It was disappointing; by the time I realised I wanted to kiss him he wouldn't even reply to a letter. Ah life, it's a funny little thing!

There was also Pomare, a beautiful man who did drag shows. Jacinda and I went and saw him lip syncing to a Diana Ross song at Staircase (remember Staircase?) one night, he was truly gorgeous.

Jacinda herself was the very definition of edgy, I loved going to see her band "Fatal Jelly Space" perform. They even put out a record called "Death Fuck Pop".

Chris, Jacinda and I all got the opportunity to get free training in animation, but I was terrified, I wanted to be a 'real artist' and make people, you know, think. I was scared of drawing mickey mouses and plutos over and over again. Jacinda wasn't, and she ended up probably being the wisest of us three. Chris and I applied for Foundation Studies in Art and Design at A.U.T. I scraped in. I wasn't overly talented at art, but I wanted to be.

Music always brings up memories of people and places. That Foundation year was fantastic, this hot guy called Rhys introduced me to The Hard Ons (not his own sadly) and I continued to preach to anyone with the patience to bear it. The Hard Ons seem amazingly dated when you listen to them now. I bought shoes with steel caps in them so that when I went to gigs I could mosh and not get crushed feet. I learned how to jump high enough with my elbows turned out. Weren't many girls moshing, usually much taller boys. I can't even remember what I went to see. Who was I moshing to? I know it was sometimes with Chris, and other times Jacinda, and then when I had that lovely boyfriend Charlie Loughman we went and saw the 3D's. He was gorgeous, that Charlie Loughman. I totally sabotaged that relationship with my Christian anxiety. I asked him to come to Church with me (just to see!) and he wouldn't. He didn't realise I was asking him because I wanted to leave, and I had hoped that in seeing what I was trying to leave he'd help me to do it. I felt like I couldn't say it though. I felt like to admit this outright was a betryal of everything I swore I believed. How could I explain that I was actually feeling trapped in a manipulative cult and that I feared for my mental health? Instead we cried in each other's arms and within weeks he had a new girlfriend who'd been molested as a child.

I should have lost my virginity to him really, he was so incredibly nice and had impeccable taste in music. Also, he was from Christchurch, and as we all know, people from the South Island ooze loveliness in the same way that many Aucklanders ooze cynicism.

This is the kind of thing I think when I listen to a song. It's entwined with all these people and memories. I'm feeling happy and nostalgic. I've always had amazing friends and some of them are no longer in my life, but they are still in me.
What happened to Bruce Ferguson? He was such a good friend, but I think he went and got too cool (and too drugged?) and bumping into him in the street years later, it was as if our weird adventures together had never happened. He seemed embarrassed to look me in the eye, yet when I looked at him I could still see the funny, loping and lanquid 22 year old. Where had he gone? Why was he pretending to be so aloof? Odd.

So many friendships, so many adventures. I have loved well, and been loved so well in my life, and I'm not even half way done living.

Merry Christmas.

A short Blog because I want to post a song!

Lord love my ducklings and bless my bum, this song, old though it is, is somehow new to me. I don't know why, but it fits me like the proverbial. Yes, the proverbial leather glove in all it's kid glory. Cream antique leather gloves that reach the elbow.

It's humid and today I've been to Bikram Yoga and also went and saw Suzanne's performance after she'd done two intensive weeks of dance training.

Bikram Yoga was, as usual, a sort of wonderful torture. I truly admired the big girl next to me, she was going for it and a hell of a lot more flexible than me. Why, I can't even get my face flat down on my knees, that's how much of a slacker I am.

The Bikram teacher was a little bit of a bitch today, but I forgave her because peace came to me as I looked at the patterns in the wood grain on the ceiling. Heaps of genital shapes.

I'm obsessed with sex (but in the nicest way), reading, music, friends, coffee and the sea.

Suzanne's performance was a 13 minute intensive exploration of the struggle inherent in leaving the past behind. The way the able-bodied and disabled moved together was fucking amazing; Suzanne was lifted upside down and throwing herself around with the force of a little tornado. Beautiful and inspiring. I nearly cried; it was so cool to see a physical performance work it's way into my heart like a well-crafted poem, painting or story. Something shifts. It's alchemy.

And so 2011 draws to a close ...

So, December 15th and today's music choice is a fine memory of a song by Mercury Rev. I feel simultaneously raised up and melancholy when I hear it, and it reminds me of going to see them live and knowing that I was put under some kind of spell. Willingly spellbound.

I feel like I've got all this peace that I didn't have two months ago. I've worked for it mind you. I tackled my fear head on and have let pain rush through me like a massive wave. It's incredible that I forgot what it was like to be depressed, that it was this far off story for me until this last couple of months. I now realise why I've been so obsessed with focusing on 'good things', why I'm careful of what I watch or listen to ... I'm just a little too sensitive and can't seem to filter things as well as many people do.

I've started on my book (the lost book!) again, I'm getting stronger physically and mentally, and I know I never run from the truth (or a lie should it confront me).

Dec 16th

Today was the graduation for my learners out at the factory in Takanini. A couple of them got up and spoke spontaneously, saying how much they all learned, how they could see a big difference in confidence and communication. I got a bit teary. I hope I get to go back next year and do more literacy coaching, it was really rewarding in the way I have always dreamed of in terms of job satisfaction. I've had so many shit or low paying jobs in the past, so this has been a massive breakthrough for me.

I wonder what will happen next? This year has been so fucking intense. Came back from Korea, had nowhere to live ... relied on the kindness of friends to crash (a big thanks to Andrew, Tam, Claire, Donna, Suzanne, and of course Nanna, who died in April).

I do think Nanna has got in on the act lately in terms of spiritual assistance! Mum asked her to tell God to help me, which I think is really cute (and I think even God might listen to my Nanna, she was one strict school teacher of a woman).

In addition to Nanna dying was the realisation that Andrew and I weren't cut out for a long term relationship (something we'd be realising off and on for six years). I got back into Internet Dating with puppy like enthusiasm, leaping in as if it were a swimming pool. It was a little more like a West Coast beach, or a storm draining leading into the sea.

You'll recall some of my crazier dates (I think the Englishman and The Wanker have to rate as the top two) and of course my disapointments! You might be relieved for me that I am no longer in love with Simon, though I could give him a new nick name as he texts me every Friday with hope in his pants and distinct lack of charm. Good chemistry with awful men never ceases to amaze me. He could now be called Mr Friday, he's getting that reliable. Haven't taken the bait, but then I've only gone without sex for one week now, so it's all good. Andrew is in France with his family and I hope he's enjoying it immensely.I seriously want some cool French Catholic iconography! Bring the Jesus, invite the Mary, I love that stuff. Wasn't allowed it when I was a Christian girlie half a life time ago.

So I've moved across the world, started my life over again, did the CELTA course while staying with Nanna, re-started a relationship, ended that relationship, Nanna died, went on a million dates, thought I'd met someone special and had them do a pooh on me (not literally, I'm not that kinky darlings), and through it all was the enduring love of friends!

So here's to the enduring love of friends as we contemplate the year that's been.

Jesus
yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of bullshit
I shall fear no wankers or dickheads!

Let love in.

xxx

Merry Christmas ... healing, why roll your owns don't offend me as much as tailor mades ...

A favourite Christmas carol for you all!

And so Christmoo approaches.

I also have some photos that Peter took when we were out West last week. Look at those colours, muted pinks and flesh tones, I love it. You can feel the cool smooth sand just by looking at it.

My camera died before I could get any pics, so I'll have to make sure I charge up the old batteries today. There is of course, Piha, and then the one in the dark shows the little 'alien lights' of the glow worms when we went for our night excursion.

Forgot to mention I went to a nice bbq at Tam and Sean's last Saturday, had some good catch ups with the likes of Callum and Nik, also a good rave with Jennifer. Some truly lovely and talented beasts in this world. Callum has been thinking of doing a Smiths themed night for awhile and I think he should DO IT. I'll even bring carnations. Well that might be taking it too far, I don't actually like carnations.

What I do like is the healing session I had with Brennan Practitioner Karen Reid. I saw her yesterday at 11am, and boy, it's all a bit too personal (yes, even for me) to go into but it was exactly what I needed.

Karen does a sort of hands on/energy healing and I find it more effective than Reiki. I also don't expect it to be the only thing to help me, but it definitely assists in a healing process. Better than going on anti-depressants in my case. I totally back this woman, so if you are open to angels and all the kind of carry on I enjoy, definitely check her out. www.thehealingcompany.co.nz

Mum also told me something yesterday that I didn't even remember about myself. Isn't that amazing, that someone can tell you a small detail about you from child-hood, and suddenly you look at your Now Self in a whole different light?

She asked if I remembered that I would sometimes roll my father's smokes for him. In my mind I now recall the yellow packet, the smell, but I can't clearly remember rolling one. It feels like the edge of a dream, one you are trying to recall the following morning.

I'd stay at his place in the weekends, this was when I was about five and six, and if he was on a job I'd go out to the building site with him. I learned to keep myself amused for hours with pieces of wood and a keen imagination.

I remember his worn jeans, brown hair, strong hands. He made lumpy porridge, and then that was the only way I'd eat it. He adored me, and I adored him. Mum said that it was just thought of as cute to see a little girl roll her father's smoke for him. She said

"it's not like you rolled a lot of them at once, just one, and then it was 'here daddy'"

So this small piece of information is on my mind. Mum says he eventually got one of those tins that made them easier to make, and that I then learned how to use that. I was always in pigtails back then, pigtails and sundresses.

I wondered why I hadn't really minded The Painter smoking, and how I felt somehow comforted by it. That I've always thought of rollies as being a little cleaner, and that the smell doesn't give me a headache. I didn't know why I thought this. Now I do.

It's almost Christmas time and it's going to be a good one. I can feel it!

Music, friends, Night Walking in Bush, Bikram Yoga ...

The above date says Thursday, but that's just when I uploaded the video of D.O.E. Today is in fact Monday the 12th of December. Welcome.

Photo to left: A breakfast I Enjoyed ... all grilled with too much olive oil ... mmm!

Mushrooms with blue cheese, tomatoes with cumin and salt mined from Himalayan mountains and therefore ruining the environment (thanks Peter, I love guilt, it tastes delicious), avocado with lemon, eggplant, pineapple (tinned) and of course, pepper.

Christmas approaches ... my current obsession with 'Department of Eagles' continues. Mum said they sounded 'Beatalistic', a sentiment also shared by Peter and Cornelius.

Andrew is in France with his family on a month's holiday, I am so happy for him. It makes my heart go all ocean-like to think of him enjoying this adventure. There was a pot-luck dinner at his flat last Tuesday with his really lovely flatmates, friends and a good feed. I took tomatoes cut in half, grilled with olive oil, cumin, sexy salt and blue cheese, as well as some roughly mixed avocado (couldn't really pass as a smooth guacamole).

We've finally finished being lovers I think, and though the form changes, the love itself is deep, sincere and able to withstand this shift. It's friendship on a whole different level really. Is that what unconditional love is?

Night Walking:

On Friday Peter suggested going to the beach and then for a night time walk in the bush, one he's taken Claire on before. Walking in fading light out in the Waitakeres was really beautiful, and as the darkness intensified we were able to see the alien light of glow worms. We stopped to have a few drinks near a picnic and bbq area and I turned my head in time to see a little owl, a Morepork, alight on a fence to observe us for a second. We talked about all sorts of good shit, and it felt good to have an excellent platonic male friend again. Haven't had that for ages. Back in my 20's I always had good male friends, but as they paired up and reproduced, things changed. Obviously. They're not going to climb up the fire escape of your flat at 3am and ask if you want to go to Mt Eden to get stoned. They now have 2.5 children and a mortgage to pay, or have descended into an excess of drugs and alcohol from which they may never return.

The walk was far longer than I expected it to be, but the smudgy darkness also throws off perceptions of time. We ended up at the bottom of the dam, the sheer wall rising before us, Peter cheerfully indicating the stairs. He bounded up them and I followed behind at a gentler pace. The moon came out to say hello. I dragged my feet on the way back and realised I might accidentally get fit if I continue to do missions with Peter.

Brunch with Corn

On Saturday I took Cornelius out for brunch. We saw a really cool dog on Ponsonby Rd. It had a barrel-like body from which rather spindly, long legs trotted along. It was white, and it's cartoony dog-face was smiling, looking around as if to say "me, me, I'm so glad to be me!".

The owner saw me and Corn looking at pointing at the dog and he smiled proudly.

"That's not the next dog you expected to see" said Corn thoughtfully.

I laughed in excess, for some reason that really did it for me. Because what is the next dog you expected to see? A Labrador?

It was cool to hang out with Corn. We have known each other since I was 21, and flatted together for more than three years from when I was 22. It isn't one of those close, intense friendships, but it's one that feels very comfortable when you're with that person. It seems as if there's not a skerrick (a word he'd like) of artifice. You know who you are, they know, and you both know that you know. It's comforting. We can sit and not talk while having coffee, or we can sit and say something inane, and it's fine either way.

The Man ...

On Sunday morning I had breakfast with The Man. The Man was one of my internet dates from ages ago, but we've both been busy and making time to catch up has proven challenging. He's a lovely man. Very masculine, but intelligent. Oh, I make it sound as if masculinity immediately cancels out intellect, ha ha! I don't mean that, but I guess what I do mean is that he isn't an "Intellectual". Perhaps being intellectual is a bit over-rated anyway. What's the point of brains without balls? Mind you, all balls and no brains isn't exactly a turn on either (thinking of Simon, aka Wylie!). God, can you believe I was so in love with him? He was intelligent in that Structural Engineering way, but not in a way that took art or interesting books into account.

Bikram Yoga

So yesterday T and I watched 'In Time' which was a nice bit of entertainment (and soooo symbolic, ha ha!). The outfits were also good, though I do wish people would stop wearing long leather trench coats in movies. Come on, it's over, the Matrix got there first.

We then went to Ponsonby for Bikram Yoga. Fuck. It was really hard yesterday. All this emotion rose up for me, and I felt quite sick. I had to ly down and keep breathing through my nose ... in, out, in, out. I was overwhelmed by a deep, nameless sorrow.

Fortunately I decided this was a fleeting emotion, that it was passing, and then I thought about how loved I am by friends. I thought of Andrew looking at me and saying "I will love you forever", and I calmed down. Peace came. I kept moving, stretching, sweating.

Here's something I like by Byron Katie:

I define “sanity” as a mind that is completely at peace, and “mental illness” as a mind that is suffering from any kind of stress. Stress is optional. Suffering is optional. This is the most amazing piece of good news that ever came my way, and it found me when I was in the depths of despair. I discovered that when I believed my stressful thoughts about myself, about others, and about life, I suffered, I was truly insane. And when I questioned my stressful thoughts, I didn’t suffer. And I have come to see that this is true for every human being. That doesn’t make it true for you; it just makes it true in my experience. Byron Katie

This is the time of year when people get stressed about money, family gatherings, expectations. Do whatever you can to stay sane this season. Find peace.

That's my present to you darlings: a little bit of sanity. Find a place to breathe, allowing what you do have to come to mind. I've spent way too much time lamenting what I don't have lately. That's just fucking crazy. So I'm smiling now. I'm thinking of my beloved friends and feeling good in my skin. Life is incredible. It's good to be.

Oh yeah, I feel good ...

Wednesday ... is it December 7th already? Oh, and here I am with a duck face. A sort of serious duck.

Well just for the Christmas season, here's a gift: drink this song by Department of Eagles!. Also listen to Mathew Dentith on 95BFM tomorrow morning for Conspiracy Corner. Not because I'm a skeptic, but because his voice is fucking gold!

Read some great stuff by Shakti Gawain which reminded me what I thought I already knew (see previous blog).

Don't get attached to the form. Look at the energy Any honour what is. 'Failed' relationships or perceived rejections are not about losing. Form is always changing and evolving. Sometimes you find people you can play with, learn with and love in a particular form for a time, then it changes. Sometimes you've learnt all there is to with that person, or maybe you've reached a point where you don't need that kind of energy around you anymore.

What I like about Gawain is the comment she makes about honouring the change in form, that it doesn't have to be a big boo hoo hoo whenever something shifts away from what it originally was. Guess that takes a more enlightened view than I've had recently. Getting there though.

I went to Bikram Yoga yesterday, sweated it out (the fun weekend had taken it's toll) and calmed down my mind. Went for a swim at Pt Chevalier afterwards. Yes I know, no sane person swims in that particular bit of sea after rainfall, but I figure my immunity is quite good at the moment. I joyfully dived into the choppy brine, and possibly churned up shit, but felt fantastic afterwards so I figure it was worth the risk.

Also have another favourite writer's quote for your perusual! Augusten Burroughs ...

Perhaps my supernatural abilities come from my solid spiritual beliefs. I believe in the baby Jesus. And I believe he is handsome and lives in the sky with his pet cow. I believe that it is essential the cow like you. And if you pet the cow with your mind, it will lick your hand and give you cash. But if you make the cow angry, it will turn away from you, forget you exist, and your life will fall into a shambles. I believe that as long as the cow likes you, you can get what you want.

In order to keep in the cow’s favour, you need to “let go and let God,” meaning, you can’t obsess about controlling every little thing. You have to let things unfold naturally and not try to change things you cannot change. On the other hand, I believe that if you’ve made the cow happy by living this way, you’re allowed to ask for favors. I tell people my theory, and they think I am either kidding or insane. But think this as they may, I have cow saliva on my hands, and many of them do not.

Augusten Burroughs, Magical Thinking, 2004

So I'm gonna do that. Pet the cow. Swim in salt, let people be exactly what they are, but also be honest about your own thoughts and feelings. Let things unfold. Stretch, relax, let my dark side out now and then. Smile. Touch yourself, or just reach out in general. Yeah.

Following Energy

So I've been re-reading Shakti Gawain, "Living in the Light".

"We don't trust that the Universe knows what it's doing, or else we don't trust ourselves to be able to accurately follow our inner guidance ... in the area of relationships, we have so many old patterns and addictions that it is sometimes hard to accurately hear our true inner voice. I don't think there is an easy way to resolve our fears about trusting our energy. You either avoid the issue, or move through it by being willing to follow your energy as best you can, learn from your "mistakes" and, in the process, heal your fears and build a clearer channel" Pg 108

I also think "follow peace" is some good advice I was once given.

Ever Surprising Life

Holy shit, I'm completely stuffed. What an amazing weekend. Needed it too. Though I am through the worst of the depression attack, it's sort of like recovering from a crappy flu or something ... you still have patches that don't feel good and need to make sure you're really looking after yourself.

Don't revisit old wounds with a rusty knife (but if you must, forgive yourself immediately), connect with those who are able to truly be kind to you. Sit and just look at how the light is falling. Think about how a word feels in your mouth. Or a strawberry dipped in yoghurt.

Be romantic with yourself and your friends. I 'romanced' Tieneke today with a few little gifts because I adore her and want her to know she is greatly loved just as she is, and we never know how long we've got on this funny little planet. That's why I'm over the top, too sensitive, full - on and balls out. Because I know. This life is limited time only. I do take risks and get hurt. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live more like 'Wylie' or The Painter; finding ways to shut down or hide. I guess it's a way to be safe. I get it. I want to be safe too, but not at the expense of authenticity. Ah, who am I to judge? One man's safe is another man's lie. One woman's boredom is another's dream come true.

Went dancing on Friday with T and a few of her friends, invited Peter (aka Bob) and we all had a really good night. T looked hot yet sophisticated in her red silky dress and beautiful glossy hair, whereas I managed the sort of cute end of the spectrum in a short white summer skirt, green racer back singlet and flat black boots.

Indulged in a few splashes of tequila which was very pleasant indeed (suits me I think), and yet made sure I was in good condition to drive home by almost 4am.

When we got we home, we finished some wine I had in the ole fridge and danced in the kitchen for at least another half hour ( it was hip hop, and yes, I kind of liked it.Wonders shall never cease). I think it was about 5am by this time. Goodness me, late for a Nanna such as myself.

The next day was also great, ended up having a swim at this beach I hadn't been to for more than ten years. Didn't stay for too long as I didn't take warm enough clothing for after the swim, but it felt good to have salt water on the skin, fine company, easy conversation, a feeling of general well-being.

I think I've gone and pulled something in my shoulder (again, argh!) and so I'm back into Bikram Yoga over the next month as it's brilliant for sorting out pain. T is into it, so we can be Birkram Bitches together. Looking forward to sweating it out (not much choice in that ).

I was also telling her about how Peter goes running through the bush and we're quite inspired by that. Beats pounding a pavement (which I've tried, but it's not really me). My fitness levels wouldn't be up to scratch, but T's probably are. She could be a forest gazelle.

I think a lot of people have had a hard time of late, but here's my prediction: most of it is untangling over the next few weeks. I'm feeling so good about the friends I've got, and new friendships that are forming. T went out again last night with her brother, and she ended up making a new friend. Yay!

Today I caught up with Andrew as he's off to France on Thursday! We had coffee in Ponsonby, and he's having a pot luck at his place on Tuesday.

Peter and I have talked about doing some cool missions over summer, and looking forward to welcoming Claire Bear back home very soon!

Oh, and be proud of me darlings ... I decided not to 'catch up' with Wylie on Saturday. Life is incredibly precious and if someone isn't able to respect you, then it's time to feel a little sorry for 'em and move on.

If the people in your life are a mirror of your subconscious beliefs, then I daresay, I'm starting to look pretty good. ;)