Everywhere

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Can’t you hear me calling out your name? The same song over and over catastrophes, super-novae, cataclysmic events, disaster, after effects and post-mortems.

Analysis.

Anal….why is this anything important enough to be an issue?

That’s my rhyming for the day. I’m well plastered. The faster the furious, the more frenzied the curious inquiry.

I have been trying out video and photo apps, so that it’s easier to make art on the go. It’s hard to steer the apps to do what I want them to do, but it’s just a beginning and I’m sure that eventually I’ll be able to find good ways to make art using them.

Regardless, it has felt good to be on a creative buzz again. I’m the type of person who makes art at a prolific rate. I need to make art or I begin to die…writing a PhD can kill that buzz – spoiler alert for anyone wanting to make art-making the focus of a long research project.

I’m still a long way from mastery of these apps, but new technologies change fast – by the time I learn them good they will function the way I need
them to.

I love to fly xxx

Emote

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I’ve been chilling lately – mostly because I have had the flu. It has been sucky to be sick, but at the same time I have been glad to stay in bed and read.

I’m getting over flu-ness though. Really, my body just needed time to get rid of the build up. Last week I started to train again and this week I have been getting into hardcore rehearsals for my final PhD performance. It’s really pretty good and I’m curious to see where it might lead.

It has been good to be feeling the creative feels again…my fingers itch to make art and my mind flips with formations firing fast.

Rather than get to making though, I’m wading – there’s time to kill at the moment and I’m making the most of it – things will change again soon and I’ll be busy as fuck, so I need to enjoy the calm ground.

I’m a media-slut and am in the national paper today. I feel awkward as fuck having been on tv twice over the past month and now having a profile piece in today’s online news. Racism, HIV/Sexuality and Suicide are the dominant themes thus far. Last week I got asked to speak on an upcoming panel for Auckland Musueum’s LATE series, on ‘invisible priviledge’ – I’m looking forward to that and am having a practice by talking with my nephews this eveing about their priviledge. They are good boys, but lately they have been typical teenagers and have forgotten how blessed they are to live in a safe village amongst whānau. They need to be reminded about the responsibilities that come with priviledge? and the costs when priviledge is abused.

Anyway, I’m hiding out today and being the chillest cos tomorrow I’m headed to Melbourne for work till Sunday. It’s work that I enjoy in the HIV sector, where as a facilitator of a peer leadership program, myself and others are updating the program we deliver. I feel like it can be so much better and I’m planning on being at my collaborative best to help toward good outcomes.

Time to fly.

Yayday

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Yayday payday making me queenly in my kingdom. Don the fanfare fashion and bare witness, the whiteness is just a wash and although awash through my thoroughfares, I am thorough enough to apply colour where necessary.

I’m on the other side of submission and it feels pretty fairy. Glittery glissandos of generous abundance…dance, it always makes me feel better.

I still have a few final performance works to prepare before examination but the seriously hard yards are done.

When I think of this PhD journey I want to cry for the extended pain of rebirth, but without it I was withering, wasted and just a watered-down version of reality. Sometimes you gotta feels the feels to fully feel again.

Since submitting I had a few job interviews scheduled, but after the first one realised I already have created the beginnings of my dream-life. I’ve reset from colonised circuitry and am now whole as the Māori person my ancestors intended for. I didn’t go to the second interview but instead committed to the projects I am working on which excite and fill me with hope…suddenly I have been blessed with more work doing what I live for.

I have taken myself out for brunch…the rosé is delicious. One of the men I dated during the first part of my PhD always gave me shit for eating out by myself, but I enjoy my own company…I am a pleasure to be with.

And so as I order a second glass of wine and some fries because the eggs, bacon and mushrooms I ate will not sustain me for the amount of research words I need to progress today – I enjoy the wintery sun, I give thanks to my tūpuna. I give thanks to atua and I give thanks to the many tāngata who have helped me on this journey and am excited for all that is to come.

XXX

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.

Get up

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Wake up you

Get golden hued

Find the fitness

Meet the witness

Magic in the middle

You do the math

Cement the path

Time to solve the riddle

Today I’m doing things simply. This week has been dramatic but I’m firmly grounded regardless.

In 5 days I’m handing my PhD thesis in. Just a few little edits left and off to the printers on Monday. I gotta get some paid work done too, so that I can afford to pay for the printing lol.

The head of Native Studies in Arizona wants me to go there and help them set up a creative practice PhD program. That’s a job for this week, beginning that discussion and looking for funding. I’d like to go for a year.

I submitted a few abstracts this week. One was on barriers to healthcare access for transgender Māori, the other was on kaupapa Māori creative strategies to empower the HIV sector.

I have been cray emailing cuators and scholars all over the world during the past week as well. I think there needs to be a Takatāpui/Two Spririt gathering in 2019, with a focus on creative practice and relational strategies toward healing our land, communities and futures.

I don’t care that I’m a black, hairy, HIV positive fucking tranny who’ll never get the chop cos I love my dick.

I’m guna change the world.

Dreams

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I’ve been dreaming a lot lately. My meds give me vivid as fuck dreams that often would leave me tired all day because I’d been on such amazing nighttime adventures.

Smoking weed would make me dream not and so for years I was able to sleep in black silence, with no memory of twilight travel.

Once in Southern Puget sound my friend asked me what I thought dreams were and I told her I thought they were messages from tūpuna. She agreed, and we both talked about how our pot smoking might be blocking important messages from ancestors…three hummingbirds found us that day and flew circles around our heads before darting away into the distance. We ate huckleberries, blackberries and blueberries from bushes as we walked home contemplating.

I’ve stopped smoking weed for quite a while now and have been dreaming about the facial moko I want to get. Last night I dreamed of applying for a 50K public art commission. I’m making plans for both, and they’ll both be epic.

Time for my midas touch to morph between dream states and reality. Actuality rates right up there. Bear the weight of existence, the existential exodus between crisis and catharsis is carrying me to places beyond painful pasts.

Craft new futures and fly, flit like those hummingbird ancestors, like all those other birds that always drop their feathered messages from the sky. Collect the goodness and wear them in bundles around my neck.

What the heck, be that mermaiden whose scales turn to feathers…cascade between dimensions of fluid imaginings x.

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!!!

Otown news

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Tears of sorrow, joyfully trace soothing rivers upon my cheeks. They are ancient memories, like glaciers melting that set the past free.

In the wee hours of the morning as the heavy fog sets auroras alogow, I alight into the mist…I must dance in the haze.

Amaze me, every days and all of the nights, set sights higher and envision peace amidst the screaming collision of worldy chaos.

Adiós my friend, I love you.

Yesterday was the first day of a funded two day media training workshop I applied to attend. It was intense but I enjoyed that I’ve become fluid and adept in an interview situation, even in front of a camera. Today I’ll pitch my PhD research to a panel of journalists. I already know it’s newsworthyness.

My PhD is filled with so much anguish, negative experience, abuse, trauma healing and beautiful love. It’s so me.

I’m about to let my research fly beyond gender binaries and barriers to good knowledge about sexual identity.  

Adiós my friend. I love you.