Category: Uncategorized

Ngā Hau Ngākau

Waraki (Dawn Chorus)

The images in this exhibition (the title translates as ‘Breath of Mine’) take you from the physical to the spiritual world. The more you look the more you see. The patterning and carving elements remind me of this:

There was once a carver who spent a lifetime with wood, seeking out and exposing the figures that were hidden there.

Patricia Grace. Prologue to Potiki. Penguin Books (NZ) Ltd. (1986)

The exhibition space shadows the shape of a whare whakairo (carved meeting house). It’s about manu (birds) “treasured in Māori mythology as messengers that connect the physical and the spiritual realms” says the introduction, and honours the work of musician Hirini Melbourne whose bird waiata I enjoy. He researched early Māori instruments, which often echoed bird sounds, and revived their use as you can hear in the soundscape accompanying the exhibition.

This tiny flute reproduces the sound of the riroriro (grey warbler)
There are intricate details on these tiny carvings

I particularly like the painting of toroa (albatross) having seen them in flight recently at Taiaroa Head, and also the detail of sea life. If you look closely, you can see nets and boats, so exploitative human interaction is there but, mostly, there’s the power of nature such as water and wind and the special character of each bird and animal. The triptich panels echo the kōwhaiwhai panels used for storytelling and oral history in the whare whakairo.

Toroa
Third panel of Ngā Hau e Wha
Bird shape in cascading water and wind

The exhibition is a travelling one, in Christchurch at the pop up Canterbury Museum space at CoCA until the end of April. The link will take you to better photos than mine. You can also hear the music here.

The paintings are by Robin Slow and the carvings are by Brian Flintoff. The musicians are Bob Bickerton, Ariana Tikau, Holly Tikau-Weir and Solomon Rahui.

Design dilemmas: tiles

A friend recently said she likes to ask her sister’s opinion when she has a decision to make. “Give me an opinion so I can ignore it,” she says. I don’t have to ignore my sister-in-law’s opinions as she helps me to choose what to do with my bathroom.

A builder is waiting for decisions to be made. I’m waiting for a bathroom designer to come up with plans. In the meantime, I have to choose tiles, shower, toilet, basin and cabinet. Aaarrgghh! I asked for help.

My sister-in-law suggested an app which helps you put together ideas. This led to hours of searching and looking at endless designs. Helpful, and fun, but to a point: the point at which you see bathrooms in your dreams!

I love my wee bathroom (178×222) which was last altered in 1993, but an ominous crack in the tiles, which travels from the end of the bath to the wall opposite, shows that all is not well underneath. Then Mum broke her hip, so it made sense to not only repair the underfloor, but to put in a walk-in shower.

I love the original features
Shower over bath

The bathroom has original features such as wooden (precious rimu) dado panelling and a corner wall-mounted cabinet. We considered painting the panelling, but wouldn’t you have to paint the door and the window frame too? I can’t picture it fitting with the rest of the house. I also remember the months it took to scrape away layers of paint after I bought the house in the mid 1980s. When the kitchen was renovated in 2015 I left the wooden dado panelling there, and two walls of original built-in cabinetry and other original features. The bathroom is a cheerful room which fills with sunshine in the morning. Admittedly, the cabinet added in 1993 is too big for the space and the terracotta tiles are a bit too orange…

It’s not easy finding tiles which fit a 1930s house with humble expectations. Yesterday, we went from tile outlet to tile outlet till we were cross-eyed. Having samples to look at at home (my sister-in-law’s idea) made a huge difference to the selection process. The tile we thought was ‘the one’ turned out to have phallus shapes all over it when you saw it in situ. Imagine walking over that every day. Once you’d seen it, you’d never not see it. However, that was the tile which turned our thinking from blue to soft green. We found another with a more subtle flower and diamond pattern and, thankfully, it is available locally.

Too ‘busy’ – makes your eyes go funny. The black and white is too harsh.
Nice! Sage green is preferred to blue.

We’re thinking the tiles will cover the floor, including the base of the walk-in tiled shower, with white or off-white subway tiles on the walls. The shower and toilet (currently behind the door) will switch places. A new, smaller cabinet will be chosen, possibly ‘floating’ to make the space seem larger, and I’m thinking a vessel basin (the jargon I’m learning!) will add a tiny bit of wow.

It’s great to have the first decisions made. Thank you, sister-in-law!

Hands-on and hands-off gardening

The inspiring Richmond Community Garden got me thinking about how best to garden. Formal gardens are all very well in a public place, but this community garden is more realistic – and based on environmental principles.

This? (Victoria Square)
Or this? (Richmond Community Garden)

The hands-on garden (Victoria Square) is colour-coordinated and surrounded by concrete. The hands-off garden (Richmond Community Garden) lets plants grow and do their thing as companion plants. Organic material is used for paths, and the upside-down letterboxes have been repurposed as planters. There’s humour in a hands-off garden! There are also chooks, including a vocal rooster. Of course, a lot of work is evident in the hands-off garden too, and the activities at this community garden are inspiring.

After visiting this garden, I thought about my own style of gardening. It’s a mix of hands-on and hands-off. I take advantage of a space to pop in some broad beans for example – there’s little separation between flower and vegetable spaces – and I’m delighted when things appear without my interference, such as the forest of sweet peas which flourished this year, and the self-sown bay tree which I topiaried (well, rounded off) by the letter box. Then, when the sweet peas died back I thought I should pull out the dried vines, but the shasta daisies popped up through them which meant I didn’t have to tie the daisies back. There’s a lot to be said for hands-off!

Broad beans amongst the flowers
A forest of sweet peas – and poppies
The bay tree makes a roof over the letterbox
Shasta daisies supported by sweet pea vines

Back on form

There were a couple of ‘blah’ days this week. I guess I was worn out from the long drive south, all that emotional energy spent, the socialising, swimming in the salt-water pools, watching albatross soaring so easily after flying hundreds of kilometres, relaxing with sea views…

However, I hit the ground running yesterday. Two loads of washing, vacuuming, and supermarket shopping filled the morning. My mojo’s back! Even this morning I’m getting ready to wash the floors – and there’s more washing on the line.

In the afternoon I searched the internet for a copy of A Book of Noises by Caspar Henderson and found that it was available at the University Book Shop. I’d read a review of it in the Listener. The review mentioned that there’s hardly any sound in space, although the author wittily wrote, “Except, perhaps, for the occasional billionaire shouting ‘Whee!'”

I drove to the University and squeezed into a tight angle park. My front wheel was a bit over the line into the neighbouring space, but I didn’t bother straightening up, thinking I’d only be a minute, and my energy levels were dictating that I keep moving.

Of course, I was in there for more like 30 minutes. There’s so much to see, and I came out with six books, not one.

There was a piece of paper under my windscreen wiper. A flier about some student activity, I thought. But, no. This made me laugh out loud:

Felix is also back on form – much more laid back than I am – and with the habit of occupying my chair if I happen to leave it for a moment. He’s an expert at looking instantly relaxed (although his tail puffed up to four times its normal size yesterday morning when, having followed me to the gate, he was surprised by the near silent approach of a passing jogger).

Now, where’s that mop and bucket?

Becoming bolder

Our trip to Dunedin has helped Mum to be more independent – and brave. She showered herself there and has continued to do so at home. This morning I hurriedly cancelled the showering help when Mum shot into the shower early (she can move fast). She even managed to wash her hair without help.

She is beginning to eat breakfast at the table again. Soon she will be getting it for herself.

Managing to take a few steps without the walker when fetching something a few steps away is giving her a sense of accomplishment: “Look at me!”

This afternoon I came home to find her doing the dishes.

Another “Look at me!” moment

This morning her eight-month course of daily calcium injections began. Let’s hope this will help her avoid any more bone disasters.

Here she is in Dunedin on Sunday with her second great-grandson who turns one this month.

Happy memories

St Clair was buzzing from early this morning. At 6.30am the lights were still on along the Esplanade, and people were jogging, walking dogs, and venturing into the sea to swim and surf.

We packed, ready to depart, feeling a little sad about leaving. Dunedin seems a lively place, down-to-earth, down-at-heel in places, quirky and interesting, and surrounded by astounding beauty.

Looking towards the harbour from Taiaroa Heads

Friends I visited yesterday have an awesome antique French wardrobe-chest of drawers combination which only fitted into their house because it breaks down into seven pieces. It fills a whole wall of the bedroom and suits their lovely home.

Many of the houses in Dunedin are attractive old brick bungalows often in art deco and arts and crafts style. ‘Old and cold,’ said my practical niece. True, probably, but nice to look at.

My brother-in-law drew my attention to gulls each sitting on a post along a fence at the Royal Albatross Centre. This is one of my favourite photos from our trip.

On the wall in our hotel is this print which seems ‘very St Clair’ to me.

As we drove out of town we saw people gathering in Queen’s Gardens (ironically – or appropriately, depending on your point of view) to celebrate Waitangi Day. It would have been good to stop and join them. But, once you’re on the road there’s a compulsion to follow it home.

Later, at home, I sat in the egg chair and thought perhaps I could pretend that the sound of distant traffic is the sea.

Summer at St Clair

Another beautiful day by the beach began with breakfast on the balcony, then a walk on the beach.

Surfers were out
A seal was resting
Patterns in the sand
Poetry on some steps
Dunedin is a UNESCO city of literature

Then, back to the balcony with sandy feet.

A drive past the bays on the peninsula was sublime on this gorgeous day. Taiaroa Head and the Royal Albatross Centre was a marvel, with nesting albatross visible on the hillsides and, suddenly, the appearance of albatrosses gliding across the sky. They were hard to photograph, but I did snap horned brown merino sheep under a pōhutukawa.

Later, I caught up with friends – with chooks.

A barbecue completed another perfect day with the newlyweds and family, four dogs and a cat.

Cool on the deck
‘This was how our first dance was meant to go!‘
Barbecue and bath time
Adults like to play kids’ games too!

A perfect day

First there was a post-wedding barbecue in an idyllic setting with rustic features.

MC and uncle Dan with wee Lachlan
Will keeps cool in sun hat and sunglasses
Liz and sleepy Lachlan
Charlie resting on my feet after an arduous day as ring bearer

Next we visited Toitū Otago Settlers Museum.

Late afternoon and it was time for cheese and crackers and elderflower cordial on the balcony overlooking the buzz of St Clair Esplanade.

We finished with a risotto dinner at Salt. This restaurant/bar was formerly an art deco house.

It was busy when we arrived but better later for a photo

Bright, sparkly day

It’s another beautiful day at St Clair. Young surfers are heading out.

Yesterday’s wedding was a bright, sparkly celebration too, full of collective warmth and love.

There was thoughtful organisation, nice touches, a beautiful setting and dancing.

Some things caught my eye:

A niece’s spiky crocs
Classic car next to my car
A photo-bombing nephew
Bling on a niece’s phone

Photos were taken of every family and friend combination and the bridal party had photos on the beach. As the sun set, bride and groom had photos on a tussocky hillside where sheep were grazing.

Formalities over, the dancing began to a band playing songs we all knew. Even our most elegant 95 year old was dancing to the beat!