Category: Bold

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Frequently Wrong, Never in Doubt: Plans for the Future

  Helene and Andrew, who I worked for as a chef at Il Forno, offered their daughter’s spare mattress for my sleeping purposes for the time between the end of my au pair contract, on the 21st of December, and when my parents would rock into the Auckland airport on January 3rd. Thus I spent my Christmas in a kiwi fashion, with barbecued pizzas, … Read More Frequently Wrong, Never in Doubt: Plans for the Future

Gazing at the Ocean

  The vastness gets me, sometimes; to see all this space I cannot measure, cannot obtain—and then to see my human kin, just as vast, measureless, objective in such a state, a condition as this. All of them new to the act of human being, and yet vastly more prepared than I.

How I Get My News

  I never regret not reading the news. The front page headlines written by an aware individual who keeps delight on the simmer at having found the story of the missing child-rape case first. The television stations, projecting visions of chaos injecting emotion to hype it all up get you going, get the fires lit, get the smoke signals out honey, we’re not going … Read More How I Get My News

Warm Summer Nights

  It’s moonlight time and I decide I’m insane– with Seneca and someone else’s dog for company, I consider life beneath Davis jazz and note I’m nothing like them.

Adding What I Find

  When I signed up for this, I was told it was my soul on the line; that to do nothing was as good as having nothing to do: and that was unfathomable.

The Vagabond Muse

  This is what I talk about when I talk about the wandering vagabond muse: truly truly the difference between “getting” and going that of “seeming” and being that between “rare” and raw. The wanderer, alit with the muse of equitable bliss rarely gets anywhere. Instead opts for the slow methodical languid locomotion of going. Going where? Going here. Perchance there. Going anywhere, and … Read More The Vagabond Muse

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Staple Tales

  The inefficient stapler, what with its effeminate undertones, emasculates the opposition into petty submission to do its bidding til the end of time. Inefficient? It asks itself as it gazes with lust into the hallway mirror. Hardly. Subtle swagger lights up steel hips and the stapler sways back to its black hole.

The Sands Tell Tales

  The sands tell tales of arduous tracks of long, lumbering earthy strides; there are those before me who have pressed the sand with leaden burdens and dragging hearts, the prints of souls unsatisfied. Then there are

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A Week of No Trash

The mission: go a full week, from Saturday morning until the following Saturday, without placing any item into a bin, either a rubbish bin or a recycling bin. Alter the lifestyle for the week to be one where throwing away something isn’t necessary. This looks like: Eating the entire apple, sans the stem, so I wouldn’t have to throw away the core. Saving the … Read More A Week of No Trash

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A Case for Willfulness

The sea— at the lip of which I sink, slow silly my toes in sucking black sand perch the heavy surf swell tunneling past my ankles –still hasn’t made up its mind.

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The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

“Okay, we’ll stop here.” I let the fins of my kayak paddles rest against the smooth ocean, just as my right shoulder was reaching its throbbing limit. I was relieved I wouldn’t have to ask for a break; when I told David I had kayaked before, I had failed to say that “before” meant five or six years ago. I wondered what effect the … Read More The Great Bellowing Taranaki Wave

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This Seat is Warm

  This seat cushion is warm. Like my skin after I take off my sweater. That someone has left their heat for me is not as gross as I used to think. I find that I am comforted. As if it were human to leave behind impressions of warmth.