an autumn mood




today, i feel like an empty vessel tethered to the shoreline
today, i feel all of my years
today, it’s not you keeping me from restful sleep
today, i’m drifting towards a new way


The Gift

Time wants to show you a different country. It’s the one
that your life conceals, the one waiting outside
when curtains are drawn, the one Grandmother hinted at
in her crochet design, the one almost found
over at the edge of the music, after the sermon….

It’s a balance, the taking and passing along,
the composting of where you’ve been and how people
and weather treated you. It’s a country where
you already are, bringing where you have been.
Time offers this gift in its millions of ways,
turning the world, moving the air, calling,
every morning, “Here, take it, it’s yours.”

– William Stafford

i will find my way back

finding my way back-0 finding my way back-1 finding my way back-2 finding my way back-3 finding my way back-4 finding my way back-5 finding my way back-6 finding my way back-7 finding my way back-8 finding my way back-9 finding my way back-10

1 – 6 // scenes from a moving train, going to visit my parents

7 // looking back down to a loop of the raurimu spiral. an incredible piece of civil engineering that enables the train to climb 139 metres in a very small space using the natural contours of the terrain & an amazing spiral/horseshoe design [here’s a photo of it from the air]

8 – 10 // scenes from a tiny regional plane, homeward bound


i will find my way back
» find my way back by cody fry

these words could mean so many many things for me right now….

today, it’s the one hour flight home that turned into a five-and-a-half hour journey due to fog.

today, it’s the golden light above the clouds before our tiny plane was diverted to another airport.

today, it’s having lunch with my husband in the city before boarding the ferry to come home.

today, it’s the tuis calling and chasing each other through the trees outside the window where i sit.

today, it’s being home.





1 // Medlands beach, great barrier island

2 // sun & shadows on the deck of our beach house. Medlands beach, great barrier island


there’s something beautiful and indescribable about the way the tangible feels – the small shiver of delight each time i’m loading a roll of film into a camera, the anticipation of getting it back when it has been developed.

and i can’t logically explain the great expanse that exists for me between film & digital – i just know that they are incomparable. neither better or worse than the other, just…. different.

film is unpredictable, temperamental, open to quirks and strange anomalies – all things i find incredibly appealing. like drawing a prize from a lucky dip bucket and being excited by the prospect of what’s inside. film feels quieter, and less showy; it demands a slower pace (especially here on the island, where they only turn the machine on when they have enough orders – so it can be a week or two before i get the developed rolls back). and even with all the slowing down and consideration before making each image, there’s mistakes, tragedies, frustrations, framing – or focusing – gone horribly wrong, double-ups and accidents.

and there’s also the unexpected surprises… things that turned out way better than i imagined they would be. like gifts from the past, stored up to be opened one by one as i scan each frame. the trivial becomes treasure, the mundane infused with magic. dust and scratches a part of the topography of each artefact.

it is an inexplicable love affair, an expensive and time-consuming pastime, a map with no directions.