remodel

remodel

Remodel repost repository posit post 🙂

It was my rebirthday on Friday and something in me switched the flickering nights to a sensuous pulse; like a strobe light carving out vignettes of yesterday. I decided to take it slow and flow like a river of tears, happy ones from now on because there’s no more room inside for dying. I have to keep telling myself that until I remember to smile without feeling like I forced it.

But yah, it has been a good weekend thus far.

huka sailed down on eagle wings to the sea and spun a whirlpool of stars; flashing fashionable fireworks that sugarcoated the ocean with a gleaming wash and spay in the chill nighttime air. Not a care in the world but really, it’s all caring these days. I felt really good in my many hoods. In my dreams I walked around the pa and invited my relations to come and celebrate with me. I wish I was in the pa right now because I miss my relations. I am in Vancouver. As is so often the case here, the weather seems grim and it brings back lots of painful memories. I suppose I am lucky though. I have come to tautoko my friend. He is from the pa, so at least we be horis together here in this city of scary seductions.

I was thinking about my middle nephew on the plane yesterday… he reminds me of me in lots of ways; bright eyed and a head full of things that make you wonder how old he really is. I was thinking about all three of my nephews yesterday. I love that I am a good uncle and I love the kids from my village. As we grow, we become people I really enjoy being around. I suppose it is the familiarity of family that always keeps us connected, no matter how far we drift in the seeming spinning madness of this beautiful unfolding universe.

I have been to so many places over the past two weeks. San Francisco, Woodland, Davis, Houston, Tampa, Dallas and now I am here in Canada. I was supposed to be in Lima this week, presenting research there, but I didn’t get the funding I applied for. Tupuna had a whole other plan that I am enjoying following through on. It seems crazy to live on less than $200 (NZD) a week, and yet be able to get around the world so easily. I suppose ancestors create our pathways for us once we start believing that they exist.

I remember all of those years and years and years of coke a cola, fried noodles and eggs, subsistence living giving me a diet of clogged arteries and fears of diabetes DIE! I BET HE’S AN ABSENTEE FATHER TO A BUNCH OF WAITING WELFARE DEPENDENTS… Life is different now and I have to try really hard to remember that my days of deficit living are buried beneath the sea forever from now on. It feel good to be able to trust that I will always get fed, but the memory of starving lingers long and on and on, making my stomach rumble with anger that it’s always hungry time no longer linger in those nightmares that were someone else’s. My mother’s voice echoes down the phone…”you should buy crackers if you can afford them because they’ll fill you up, or cornflakes”. Cornflakes are a sad substitute for a meal, especially considering how Kellogg’s invented them as a way to subdue sexual feelings that children might have.

It is really good to celebrate and feel good about living and giving gifts from our ancestors. The past few weeks in the US, I have been sharing a lot of knowledge. I feel good that the knowledge I arm myself with, can help so many. I think of all those years where I felt I had nothing to offer to anybody, not even myself. I sometimes am in disbelief that my journey through life reflected the eternal emptiness I felt for so much of my life. Now, I feel full. When I look in the mirror, I see an incredible creature, and I am still shocked that it took an entire lifetime to see the person everybody else, but me, could see. In Tampa, a new friend asked if would be interested in presenting some of my research in the UK… at Cambridge where he works. I am also working on a paper that will hopefully be included in a book of relatively new academic theory. Jesus Holy shit Christ… how did I end up becoming a theorist?

How is this my life? How did I end up at a party cavorting with A-list celebrites last night? How am I lying in bed, overlooking this very cool city from a 32nd story vantage? Yesterday, and fourteen yesterdays before, I looked at the image of my life. I saw that I have a life… and I saw how important it is to live that life. I wish someone had told me, or that I had heard and listened to messages of how important it is to live and share life. If people were able to truly see the magic they so effortlessly gift to each other, rather than perceive their magic as some screwed up mistake of social normality, we would glow knowing how astounding we are. I started to see a whole lot of layers that I hadn’t perceived before and now my mind is mixed with the glitterfireworks, fixed in the glossygreen glint of the sky on the sea. That’s the me I remembered before I died again. My art tells me stories and now I am remembering to make that my method of gladness.

I love being a hori. Happy Easter for sure… I had better call my mother.

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