solstice // first light. it’s raining. again. a thunderous drumming on the roof above me. it’s not the getting wet that prevents me rising from my warm bed to meet others for a morning swim. it’s knowing that the tide is in, and the stream that meets the sea where they’ll be taking a dip […]
the pink house, gisborne, august 2019. polaroid sx-70, expired impossible film. +++ i tread the line between wanting to express my thoughts and desperately wanting to remain silent – both in this virtual space and out in the world. by the end of each day, i am easily aggravated and in need of disconnection; with […]
stuffing into damp shoes so they hold their shape whilst they’re drying cleaning the windows wrapping hot fish & chips, seasoned with salt, lemon quarters tucked alongside making a paper plane creating blackout poetry playing pass-the-parcel lighting the fire papier-mâché a barrier between a wet seat and dry pants wrapping bacon to pack in a […]
+++ you are here. breathing. part of a grand and intelligent universe. your being here, now, is no accident. your stories give oxygen to the things that matter. some days its just about preparing a simple meal, sitting outside, and being happy exactly where you are.
yesterday morning i was in redmond, washington. last night i saw the sunset in san francisco. i woke to a sunrise out the window of my flight into auckland, and tonight as the light fades i am sitting in a little shack perched above a white sand beach that stretches farther than the eye can […]