The intertidal zone

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Illustration of a bird flying.
  • Drinks I can handle

    … and every other day,    

    June 8, 2011
  • Yes, today you may lick my plate

    Polly’s 14 today. That makes her a Gemini: a nosy parker passing comment on every passerby; curious, optimistic, in perpetual motion. To her three pups was a capable, diligent mother, but melancholy. The hour the last one left home, she sprang back into her favoured role as my convivial, companionable dogsbody. Today she frolicked up […]

    June 6, 2011
  • The pen finds its way

    Drawing is calming … the chafe of nib on paper … the silent object appearing in its untroubled imperfection. I hope you’ll try it. A fine-nibbed pen helps – giving the picture an air of simplicity and confidence that may or may not originate in the drawer. I use water-colour pencils: colour in, then add […]

    June 5, 2011
  • Ha! More fun than writing.

    June 2, 2011
  • Too many words

     

    June 1, 2011
  • One knife, two dogs, and the end of the world

    I had fun in town yesterday. I trotted from shop to shop with a list, buying beautiful things for a friend, with her money. Too easy. I needed only a couple of items myself, chief of which was The Knife. The old Knife had snapped (cutting cheese, the culprit insisted). I was tempted by colourful […]

    May 19, 2011
  • 825 (825? This post made up its own title. So be it.)

    I’m still a little in awe of this sunfish Dad and I found washed up on a North Canterbury beach last week. I’d spent a warm month north of Auckland and was making my way home, visiting parents en route. We enjoyed the usual lingering meals, cuppas, walks on the beach and a game of […]

    May 13, 2011
  • Chimera

    Poking around up at the local village today I had one of those shopping-glamour fits. You know the one, when just for a few seconds you feel you might be entitled to a gorgeous dress, long smooth legs, a beauty clinic face, shoes to die for, a crystal-and-candles restaurant dinner with a mysterious Someone, after […]

    April 19, 2011
  • Northern foliage

    In the first few days up here I couldn’t keep my hands off the greenery — had to test out the strange varieties of leaf form, seed pod, fruit and flower. But the grass left my hands red and itching; the pod I broke open released a dozen glass-like hairs into fingers, wrists, even through […]

    April 13, 2011
  • Deliberations

    I’m not writing much these days, although I’m always at the keyboard. I edge hesitantly and rarely along fiction’s overgrown pathways. The novel I’m two-thirds through seems to have lost it relevance, and nothing else is clamouring for attention. However my own past assertion keeps me questioning the silence: the assertion that when I spin […]

    March 29, 2011
  • A morning

    Steep, dusty, fur-wrapped stairs; a Burmese girl roaring about on a motorbike; jack-hammering wood-milling machines — the stuff of dreams. Yes, Freud, I know. Half an hour back and forth in the pool down the road, and five minutes blissed out against the second best jet in the spa pool. Porridge with raisins and dates, […]

    March 23, 2011
  • Dawn breaks

    Venus hangs fat and gold. The old ring-barked sycamore gleams white under a pale blue sky. Leaves fidget in the first breeze. I sit on a cushion and light a candle in the window where a fine-limbed spider makes delicate purchase, trying to climb the glass. The tree, the spider and the star are reassuring, […]

    March 16, 2011
  • Shifting ground

    We were hoeing into a lovely mess of eggs and tomato on toast just before one o’clock last Tuesday, when the tin shed we’d been holidaying in suddenly leaped east, west, east again, and made a long shuddering, swinging sigh. Perched on a stool beside the fire, I set my plate on the table and […]

    February 27, 2011
  • We are made of water

    Touched by Vespersparrow’s reflection on lacrimae rerum (the tears at the heart of things), the posting itself a wondrous lachrymal urn, I thought of a passage from Island where a few more are shed. “Soon afterwards Mrs Pearson announced that there would be no more deaths from diphtheria – and there were not. In the […]

    February 5, 2011
  • Considering lilies

    As I transfer this image from the camera onto  iPhoto, from iPhoto to the desktop, from the desktop to this blog, I wonder what I might have to say that could possibly gild the lily. It puts me in mind of the effort I’ve expended this year on the enterprise called Rosa Mira Books. And […]

    January 28, 2011
  • Poem for the new year

    I’m weary and short of words, but praise be for Muriel Rukeyser. . . THIS PLACE IN THE WAYS Having come to this place I set out once again on the dark and marvelous way from where I began: belief in the love of the world, woman, spirit, and man. Having failed in all things […]

    January 3, 2011
  • Burning off the old year

    (Make it Friday, okay? That’s the day before Saturday.) ‘Please come on Monday The day after Sunday And mind that you start with Something to part with; A fire shall be ready Glowing and steady To receive it and burn it And never return it. Books that are silly, Clothes outworn and chilly, Hats, umbrellas […]

    December 30, 2010
  • Slipping out of 2010

    Most people I know have had a turbulent year. And then Christmas was suddenly upon us. Plenty have decided to flag it altogether: no cards, no gifts, no relatives, no fuss. I let it slide to a certain point and then suddenly I want: carols and oratorios, the scent of pine needles, tinselly evenings full […]

    December 19, 2010
  • Head for the hills

    Getting away is always worth it. I don’t know how I forget to, caught month after month in the loop of routine. Mt Peel was waiting just a few hours up the road and a friend joined me for the day walk, no, tramp, for which we were glad we’d chosen boots over gymshoes — […]

    December 7, 2010
  • I sighed all evening

    Perhaps I’ve spent too long on the same project, too many hours in my own head, had too many weeks of routine. I didn’t know how susceptible I was. Last night at the Dudley Benson concert I almost drowned. Inundated by wonder. After the opening performance by Cat Ruka with a metronome, a chair, heavy […]

    November 25, 2010
  • The stuff of life

    There were a lot of sticking plasters in the pool this morning. My new togs aren’t as comfy as the old ones but it was a good swim. I came home and read a woman’s story of how she tried as a child to kill herself.  The cat curled up in the dog’s basket. I […]

    November 21, 2010
  • Tangible

    Aaah, there’s nothing like a lovely object. I’ve spent so much of this year tinkering with words and ideas on screen, in order to create a book that I’ll never hold in  my hands* — and I accept that this is how it is for now. Anyway, it was delicious to go and buy 12 […]

    November 4, 2010
  • October

    Zac, 10 months, takes the world by mouth. Visiting the other day, he was unfazed by brass on the tongue as he alternately licked and tinkled, one bell in each hand. The lilac’s just coming out, reminding me of the poem I wrote some years ago. Canterbury On this day of gifts my mother’s familiar […]

    October 16, 2010
  • 7 a.m.

    Daughter closing up her bags. Five-year visa. Heart-squeeze. Life is painful and wonderful.

    October 1, 2010
  • A year ago

    Calafate, Patagonia. You might not be able to discern the pink bird in left midfield. A flamingo: I was stalking it across the wastes. Elena followed loyally until she stepped in up to her ankle. She mightn’t want to come to NZ, she said, if this was the kind of thing we did there. Nevertheless […]

    September 22, 2010
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The intertidal zone

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