Category: New Zealand

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Composting

When my body wakes me. It’s still dark. I open the window above my bed. The whispering dawn snuggles down. Down into my hair. Down into the space between me and my sleeping bag. Which I sleep in despite the closet full of sheets. The whispering dawn lifts me out. Out into my running shorts. Into my cheetah print bandana. Into my bright blue … Read More Composting

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Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Half a year has gone by since I left Kansas. I’m still learning various currency exchange rates and the metric system, so still going strong (relative phrase). Relativity is a fickle friend. If I think on some of the travelers I have met—Liz and Hadyn in Assisi, who have been backpacking the world since summer 2016, Sara in Mostar, who traveled alone for three … Read More Half a Year Away, Away (and Happy 300!)

Warmth in a Morning

  I wake up the long way this morning: my fire reflects last night’s hearth the ashes cold the glass remembers. Cold cuts grow like cast iron Sundays & I find it so easy to blink slow.

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The Feeling of a Next Step

It happens, sometimes, when I am planning what’s next. I’ll be running from that feeling of restless boredom with the present, chasing a desire to be free and unlimited again. I’ll head to the library. Start pulling any “Best Tramps of New Zealand”, “Hidden Places of the Pacific Islands”, “1000 Things to See in the North Island” sort of books I can find. I’ll … Read More The Feeling of a Next Step

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South by Southwest

I looked at the map. Pointed at Cornwallis Beach. For the sake of direction, not destination. The day was Monday and free as butterfly, and I chucked Dune, my notebook, a Tupperware container of rice, an extra sweater, and my colored pencils in my backpack and cycled to the train station. My launching port would be the Glen Eden train station. Thus equipped, I … Read More South by Southwest

I am an Alphabet

  I contemplate the alphabet— and return to kindergarten days of green felt marker streaks on my peanut butter paws. The alphabet. Raw goods carried my way on a train puffing along, make way to unload make way to manufacture, make way to export!

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Aestheticism

  I take the espresso outside and tuck myself in the corner on a wide metal seat at a small wooden table. The air about me is forest fresh, and brings hints of the rain which thumps the streets beyond this awning.

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Theatre of Nostalgia

Yesterday I had it in mind for an evening of theatre. I imagined rocking up in my fancy shoes (of the three pairs of shoes I have, one pair is fancy), my hair freshly washed and voluminous–to keep all my secrets and spare change—and politely inquire after one ticket please, adult–obviously. I imagined swirling a glass of red wine at intermission, sipping gently, letting … Read More Theatre of Nostalgia

Creature

  I am a creature of freedom— a creature of freedom. Freedom is tricky. Some days like— mind beats, judgement calls, unsound spectacles unsheathing my soul in sub rosa places only I can see (but boy do I feel). Some days, more like— crawling away hand over hand grubby knees scoot across dust. All the esoteric giggles become covert, stealthy, tainted by criminality.

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Spirals in the Sand

I am becoming less and less attached to the young female finds herself genre; the rows and rows of book covers featuring strong tanned white females gazing into the sunsets with sloppy grins, mangy hair, and fluorescent teeth. The promise of “life-changing”, “truly inspirational”, “will make you want to pack a bag and go save the orphans”. But when I picked up Ffyona Campbell’s … Read More Spirals in the Sand

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Cheer Setting

Tim Ferriss attributes much of his success to the practice of “fear setting“: he takes a sheet of paper, divides it into three columns and labels them “Define”, “Prevent,” and “Repair.” Under the first column, write 10-20 things that could go wrong if you answer your question in the affirmative. Under the second column, answer: “what could I do to prevent each of these … Read More Cheer Setting

Sunlight Spotlight

  Seagulls sound like happy goats and naked babies tickle toes in the water; the first day of spring in the bones is a good day indeed for a picnic with my bare knees. The duck, with feathers slicked from quick dips looks smooth and skilled like a snake, in the water. I perch on my rock ledge wearing my wild hair listening to … Read More Sunlight Spotlight