Submission

I’m taking myself out to the movies tonight…to see Transformers.

I pretty much spent most of the day in  bed, after cleaning my room and burning some sage and then sweetgrass.

I needed some chill time to release the pent up PhD anxiety…which for the most part is over.

I submitted my thesis yesterday.

It is a beautiful thesis. I’m so proud for my achievement in getting it out. I was on TV the night before last and lots of people have been saying, “hey, I saw you on Māori TV the other night…amazing korero bro”.

My skin is hideous and I need to get my body back in shape after these years of not looking after myself properly to birth my research taonga.

Come back to the world.

Crackin’

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Yesterday I had the day off. I had a moment in front of my computer but then realised I couldn’t sustain any kind of work focus…instead I grabbed a ciggy and walked across the road to hang out with my niece.

Some days are meant for just being with whānau and switching off the rest of the world.

Winter is here. Normally this is the time of year to start winding down, but I have been in a slow dimension since January and I feel like now is time to begin upping the ante.

I really don’t know what lies ahead for me. It’s a disconcerting feeling to have worked hard toward something for four and a half years, in the hope that the task brings abundance, and then to be in a holding pattern conjuring and whispering a new life of plenty into being.

There is no Māori word for ‘being’ according to my creative supervisor in Hawai’i. Makes things problematic in some ways because my whole research project is about how to be happy just ‘being’.

I feel like really amazing stuff is coming my way but it’s all so intangible at the moment.

I’m activating a final round of edits before submitting this thesis.  Funny, I had been advised by my creative supervisor in Hawai’i to keep the theory and practice separate because that’s what you’re supposed to do with a creative practice PhD. The theory chapters are intense and powerful and then you get to these meandering descriptions of my practice…suffice to write the practice chapters are boring.

That’s fucked because my art is not flat and lifeless. Anyway, I took advice from my chief supervisor to theorise the practice chapters and then BAM, my whole thesis has come to life.

I feel like Dr Frankenstein bringing an assemblage monster into the land of the living.

Bits of this and that, lie flat and let me sew you together, feathers and metal tied to brick and nails. Hail, I see you towering above me and I submit to the power of your incoherence. With cowardice I die every day.

Nay, that’s no longer me. See these chains, they are but crumbling epitaphs to memories – constructs of fallacies fail when tested by the pull and push of wishes fulfilled.

She lives!!!