i took a trip to wellington today and am staying with a good friend.
and it reminds me of all the reasons why I should move here. Dilapidated, dated, Lived In old city villa's. Hundreds of them. and I can live in them :)
Im not keen on the weather here. I'd have to stock up on Jumbo jackets, however. its a good vibe here.
I took loads of photo's.
when I have the time, I will be able to upload them to here.
though, I am missing my friends in auckland.
learning to fly
Thursday, November 27
Tuesday, November 11
about my cat. 2003
(from my journal) ... I'm trying to begin this entry - in the shadow of my beloved cat who insists on pushing his face in mine.
I love you so much. I'd be very cold without you.
Currently I don't love anything more than I do you.
But, I still dread the day when you must leave me - when I have to stop buying you biscuits, kiss you benevolently on your patterned forehead, hear you purr and see your lazy eyes. You love me, I know that much.
You are a little strange and hard to understand,
I don't want to understand you - own you, trap you.
I should have left you in your home.
I guess i got greedy - i couldn't live without you, or bear to think about what would be happening to you.
I love your scent. You've definitely lost most of your smell since being here. Garden spray, fertilizer, wild, green, sweat, hunt, warmth. And sun.
RIP 2005. Come back to me one day...
I love you so much. I'd be very cold without you.
Currently I don't love anything more than I do you.
But, I still dread the day when you must leave me - when I have to stop buying you biscuits, kiss you benevolently on your patterned forehead, hear you purr and see your lazy eyes. You love me, I know that much.
You are a little strange and hard to understand,
I don't want to understand you - own you, trap you.
I should have left you in your home.
I guess i got greedy - i couldn't live without you, or bear to think about what would be happening to you.
I love your scent. You've definitely lost most of your smell since being here. Garden spray, fertilizer, wild, green, sweat, hunt, warmth. And sun.
RIP 2005. Come back to me one day...
high moon, circa 2003
the moon has shifted a long distance since,
its light directly on her face now and in her eyes.
clock kept on ticking. a windy night pushed the
clouds along, passing the moon and temporarily
dimming the light.
clouds in the distance moved slowly, huddled beneath
the moon and stars hung above. Wind sights through
trees.
the blue night sky is so solid, its almost palpable.
its like the smooth painted inside of a
cosmotic bowl.
Her focus shifts to the window, and the dirt and finger
marks on it; between her and the moon.
light shining in her eyes, she squints to lengthen
and shorten the beams.
The breeze slipping through the window stirs the
chimes; they ring quietly into the night.
Kana lay in bed, a little uncomfortable.
Her neck hurt from craning over the computer so much.
sleep was hard to find, thoughts and dreams
not helping in the pursuit.
Her tabby cat slept on the blankets at her side,
the clock still ticked.
"How come you can sleep so easily, huh puss?"
its light directly on her face now and in her eyes.
clock kept on ticking. a windy night pushed the
clouds along, passing the moon and temporarily
dimming the light.
clouds in the distance moved slowly, huddled beneath
the moon and stars hung above. Wind sights through
trees.
the blue night sky is so solid, its almost palpable.
its like the smooth painted inside of a
cosmotic bowl.
Her focus shifts to the window, and the dirt and finger
marks on it; between her and the moon.
light shining in her eyes, she squints to lengthen
and shorten the beams.
The breeze slipping through the window stirs the
chimes; they ring quietly into the night.
Kana lay in bed, a little uncomfortable.
Her neck hurt from craning over the computer so much.
sleep was hard to find, thoughts and dreams
not helping in the pursuit.
Her tabby cat slept on the blankets at her side,
the clock still ticked.
"How come you can sleep so easily, huh puss?"
untitled circa 2003
We lay in bed,
We lay very close.
And listened to the narcissus grow.
We hard the silver moon rise,
I heard his eye lids blinking,
He heard my hair rustling.
We saw fantastic visions,
We dreamed our wolds together,
No-longer separated but linked by our finger tips only,
linked by eyes.
Eyes of midnight bright,
Eyes of perceptual might.
.dreams never end when you believe
We lay very close.
And listened to the narcissus grow.
We hard the silver moon rise,
I heard his eye lids blinking,
He heard my hair rustling.
We saw fantastic visions,
We dreamed our wolds together,
No-longer separated but linked by our finger tips only,
linked by eyes.
Eyes of midnight bright,
Eyes of perceptual might.
.dreams never end when you believe
shuhei's rainbow. written 2002
i saw the rainbow shuhei saw. it was beautiful.
it was as vivid as the photo he is a part of
forever shuhei, young. and the rainbow -
it was as vivid as the photo he is a part of
forever shuhei, young. and the rainbow -
unfinished, untitled. circa 2000-2002
kana walked down the road with a bottle of vodka to ease her disappointment. was like a great vault sky of cloud and blue evening. the moon directly above like white marble. the unseen sun dyed the cloud fringes orange and pink. a swirling mass tethered to spill into the blue like the great wall of a slow moving wave.
a sight to make many watchers sigh.
kana didn't care.
nor did she car she still walked on stony ground in high heels, bound to break an ankle at some time.
far too distant to hear the plaintive voices calling her to stay,come back, ignoring....
a sight to make many watchers sigh.
kana didn't care.
nor did she car she still walked on stony ground in high heels, bound to break an ankle at some time.
far too distant to hear the plaintive voices calling her to stay,come back, ignoring....
free writing. circa 1999-2001
out into the street i flow
im not sure, ive nowhere to go
i see people fly by yet i am so slow
its a color expozay - a blurry show
we wont walk, wont laugh, wont play
we just want to get out - shot today
in my head a part is dead
what im fed its not being read
so i pull down the stars
white pin points pricking the crowd
crowd of colour garish
melt them al into single units
its just more organised that way
im not sure, ive nowhere to go
i see people fly by yet i am so slow
its a color expozay - a blurry show
we wont walk, wont laugh, wont play
we just want to get out - shot today
in my head a part is dead
what im fed its not being read
so i pull down the stars
white pin points pricking the crowd
crowd of colour garish
melt them al into single units
its just more organised that way
Monday, November 10
eighteen september twothousand and eight, sugar sweet blue eyes
continuing down
think i lost a friend
hair is, every where!
waiting out this holiday. keen to be here, keen to get back into uncertain life. which?
want to be alone here. no bothers. eat out.
drinking peach tea by the litre...
wanting to be perfected and shag with no inhibitions.
skin, is, purple?
toes healing. i do have my fathers feet.
not keen on dragging her around.
laid on the grass one day. staring at the grass. blue sky. hot knees.
feeding black geese, strange honking and hissing.
more beautiful than geese.
actually, i am wrong. they are black swans.
think i lost a friend
hair is, every where!
waiting out this holiday. keen to be here, keen to get back into uncertain life. which?
want to be alone here. no bothers. eat out.
drinking peach tea by the litre...
wanting to be perfected and shag with no inhibitions.
skin, is, purple?
toes healing. i do have my fathers feet.
not keen on dragging her around.
laid on the grass one day. staring at the grass. blue sky. hot knees.
feeding black geese, strange honking and hissing.
more beautiful than geese.
actually, i am wrong. they are black swans.
I magine the city. written 1999
I would like to live in a city. a city with bright lights. trees. green hills. people: simple, complex, cyberpunks, thrift shop kids, snot nosed fashion junkies, uniforms, suits, colours, ugly, pretty, Fake... and in this city is me. in a small 2 roomed kitchen + bathroom unit apartment high up staring at thousands of other apartments and city buildings winking at me. Ive made contact with some of the other people in those apartments. we wave. hold up big pictures. ive even been able to email one of them. Behind me is one of the rooms, my room. 3x4m. a shoji screen door, aluminum slide windows (nice to sit in when i want to remind myself what suicidal feels like) a small bed under it, along one wall a stack of DIY shelves ive cramped with books and collected trinkets. my bed bed sits on another stack of shelves full of books and drawers of clothes. 2 PC monitors , minispeakers sit on my desk connected to 2 networked PC's underneath. Desk is littered with papers. water and energy bottles, special K boxes ( i really have to clean this shit out some day.) books, pens, trinkets, CD's, a keyboard, 2 mouse. shit cluttered room. strung a sting along the ceiling to hang my clothes and shoes from. I can just sit in my room cluttered with shit. My flatmate, shes a graphic designer. usually out at Uni or locked in her room. like me, has 2 computers. at least once a week we make it a habit to clean out the apartment, go shop together, and frequent at the local cafe/internet cafe/2nd hand book store. sometimes I go visit friends I haven't visited in months. Lucky bastards. they just do a bit of work every day or just bumm around. I lock myself in my room, do animation or Im at college doing more animations and planning storyboards. updating my site or do comics or, I just zone out.
leave the apartment, and walk. stare at the world. Im going to go to a yoga class someday. I leave my 7th floor apartment through the internal staring of my apartment building. it is late. the outsides of some have staircases leading down the sides. Dirty white washed walls. cold and some glowing windows, pipes veining the sides and small boxes and lights jutting out of the walls. the spaces between the buildings secret a walkway for all. the roads on the other side of the way. the whole way is webbed with a jumble of black telephone and power lines linking from apartment to apartment. at least the air is clean down here.
(Edited Nov 10 2008. I wrote this before I even lived on Hobson street. guess my imagination was pretty accurate...)
leave the apartment, and walk. stare at the world. Im going to go to a yoga class someday. I leave my 7th floor apartment through the internal staring of my apartment building. it is late. the outsides of some have staircases leading down the sides. Dirty white washed walls. cold and some glowing windows, pipes veining the sides and small boxes and lights jutting out of the walls. the spaces between the buildings secret a walkway for all. the roads on the other side of the way. the whole way is webbed with a jumble of black telephone and power lines linking from apartment to apartment. at least the air is clean down here.
(Edited Nov 10 2008. I wrote this before I even lived on Hobson street. guess my imagination was pretty accurate...)
night flying. written 2000
late night cafe music. enough caffine to make the sane mad and those denizens of the coffee sane.. reasonably. red light floods the scene, horizon of yellow light on the bar; dark silhouettes of couples sit around tables lit with candles and low lights.
Samarah looks up to and notices the time on an old Hawaiian clock. 10.00pm.
time to go. see the night out. But, decides to go after one more song. to calm the nerves.
sweet slow drum beats, the string sections elevating, almost like she's flying again.
the nights calling Samarah. And it was true, looking out the window she could see the moon through the withered plane trees. the first full moon of the month. and through the trees, they looked like a medical graph of the nerves in the brain. the branches forking out into nerve ends, the trunk the spinal root.
"good night for flying" she mused staring at the deep night sky.
laying her bill down on her table, she rose and left the small late night cafe. its warm and frendly atmoshpere lingering as she stepped out. the winter bite in the air, nipping away at her bared skin, reminding her to pull on her coat.
Samarah looks up to and notices the time on an old Hawaiian clock. 10.00pm.
time to go. see the night out. But, decides to go after one more song. to calm the nerves.
sweet slow drum beats, the string sections elevating, almost like she's flying again.
the nights calling Samarah. And it was true, looking out the window she could see the moon through the withered plane trees. the first full moon of the month. and through the trees, they looked like a medical graph of the nerves in the brain. the branches forking out into nerve ends, the trunk the spinal root.
"good night for flying" she mused staring at the deep night sky.
laying her bill down on her table, she rose and left the small late night cafe. its warm and frendly atmoshpere lingering as she stepped out. the winter bite in the air, nipping away at her bared skin, reminding her to pull on her coat.
Nana. Written 2002
We sit in church, an unremarkable grey sky beyond the window.
child of innocence runs her fingers down my legs.
sends sensations to my head and body that I have to brush her hands away
such a clean face. unmarked and unblemished.
we give her a piece of chocolate and make eating faces as if we were enjoying a piece of chocolate ourselves.
she runs it over her face and hold in her smal, fleshy toddler hands before taking a small bite. the chocolate is still 1&1/2 blocks left, broken and crumbling where she broke it off. it sits in her mouth and she eats it with her mouth open, like she had to breathe in between each bite.
her mouth is full of brown saliva and chocolate stained teeth. im not sure if she is enjoying it - or if she wants me to enjoy her eating it. which i am.
clear brown eyes she enjoys it when i run my fingernails up and down her face.
shutting her eyes and leaving her mouth open with an almost animal purity.
i run my nails and tickle her nose.
eyebrows, cheeks, and then her ears, which she scrunches her face up in toothy smile and holds her hands to her ears, where i return to her nose. Jan then starts tickling her chin to get her attention, offers it, and jan runs her fingers up and down her fore arms. she stops moving and watches and feels her fingers with that same animal interest, as if the sensation is new and pleasurable in some way. im curious why jan would do that to her in the first place, but she likes it. then she pushes up jan's sleeves with not much success and scratches jan's forearms, thinking maby she'd enjoy it too or its what shes supposed to do. jan flinches a little because of her tiny finger-nails.
finishing both of jan's arms she turns to me and tries to push up one of my sleeves making it only halfway up my arm. i have to help her pull it as far up. then she runs her fingers up and down my arms with a slight pressure. i can feel her small nails scratching. pulls that sleeve down and continues with pushing the other sleeve up and scratching that arm.
if she was mine then i would hold her always. i would hold her with my two strong arms and never tire. we would both stare and look at things. trying to come up with the same thoughts. i would love that child. i would bleed my heart out for her. no harm, ever. i would tear her oppressors apart.
November 10, 2008. I am still childless.
child of innocence runs her fingers down my legs.
sends sensations to my head and body that I have to brush her hands away
such a clean face. unmarked and unblemished.
we give her a piece of chocolate and make eating faces as if we were enjoying a piece of chocolate ourselves.
she runs it over her face and hold in her smal, fleshy toddler hands before taking a small bite. the chocolate is still 1&1/2 blocks left, broken and crumbling where she broke it off. it sits in her mouth and she eats it with her mouth open, like she had to breathe in between each bite.
her mouth is full of brown saliva and chocolate stained teeth. im not sure if she is enjoying it - or if she wants me to enjoy her eating it. which i am.
clear brown eyes she enjoys it when i run my fingernails up and down her face.
shutting her eyes and leaving her mouth open with an almost animal purity.
i run my nails and tickle her nose.
eyebrows, cheeks, and then her ears, which she scrunches her face up in toothy smile and holds her hands to her ears, where i return to her nose. Jan then starts tickling her chin to get her attention, offers it, and jan runs her fingers up and down her fore arms. she stops moving and watches and feels her fingers with that same animal interest, as if the sensation is new and pleasurable in some way. im curious why jan would do that to her in the first place, but she likes it. then she pushes up jan's sleeves with not much success and scratches jan's forearms, thinking maby she'd enjoy it too or its what shes supposed to do. jan flinches a little because of her tiny finger-nails.
finishing both of jan's arms she turns to me and tries to push up one of my sleeves making it only halfway up my arm. i have to help her pull it as far up. then she runs her fingers up and down my arms with a slight pressure. i can feel her small nails scratching. pulls that sleeve down and continues with pushing the other sleeve up and scratching that arm.
if she was mine then i would hold her always. i would hold her with my two strong arms and never tire. we would both stare and look at things. trying to come up with the same thoughts. i would love that child. i would bleed my heart out for her. no harm, ever. i would tear her oppressors apart.
November 10, 2008. I am still childless.
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