The time has come when I find such god-awful phrases as "end-of-life care" rolling off my tongue in hushed tones during conversations with too many of them and not enough of me.
I don't want to be here: watching another parent succumb to bloody cancer. Not now. Not again. Not ever. No.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Zambesi girl
The closest I've come to a sartorial love affair is with New Zealand's established designer label, Zambesi.
There was a time in the mid to late 1990s - a period that looks increasingly as if it might have been my hedonistic zenith - when Zambesi pieces were my staples. I was single, on a career track, and financially independent.
I was so devoted to one particular boutique that carried Zambesi and other favourites Helen Cherry, Marilyn Sainty and NOMd, the owner would buy with me in mind.
It astonishes me now.
On a whim - it's been a while - I viewed Zambesi's A/W 2011 collection online. If I was in my 90s phase, I would have snapped these three up, no question. Zambesi has always had a distinctive look and collections flow into one another, but these pieces could almost have been plucked from my wardrobe back then.
There was a time in the mid to late 1990s - a period that looks increasingly as if it might have been my hedonistic zenith - when Zambesi pieces were my staples. I was single, on a career track, and financially independent.
I was so devoted to one particular boutique that carried Zambesi and other favourites Helen Cherry, Marilyn Sainty and NOMd, the owner would buy with me in mind.
It astonishes me now.
On a whim - it's been a while - I viewed Zambesi's A/W 2011 collection online. If I was in my 90s phase, I would have snapped these three up, no question. Zambesi has always had a distinctive look and collections flow into one another, but these pieces could almost have been plucked from my wardrobe back then.
(Photos: Zambesi, a/w 2011 runway via www.zambesi.co.nz)
The New Zealand design aesthetic has long been synonymous with a dark, utilitarian mood. Edgy black and loads of it. It's no longer the case, with a blossoming, diverse design scene, but I have struggled to broaden my palette - colour and direction - even if circumstances and desire dictate I no longer fill my wardrobe with Zambesi and NOMd etc.
I still tend to look for clothes that best reflect (on my pared down budget) designer influences from fifteen years ago. I think it's partly because it represents a time when I felt I had it going on.
But my tastes have evolved; a little less uncompromising, softer, more inclusive. I adore Richard Moore's draped, feminine dress below. (He showed at iD Dunedin Fashion Week earlier this month.)
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| Photo: Richard Moore dress via iD Dunedin Fashion Week |
Frankly, though, as much as I admire it, I simply couldn't wear it well for many reasons; not least of which, it's white.
Perhaps I should just embrace my anxiety about wearing colour or block white and the post-children fear of svelte clothes, and explode into a new style direction. I'm thinking vintage Zandra Rhodes, seen here at iD Dunedin Fashion Week 2011 (private collection).
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Photo: Vintage Zandra Rhodes via iD Dunedin Fashion Week
Then again, if I focus on confidence, maybe my lack of imagination will be considered a signature rather than a style rut. Here's hoping.
In the meantime, I think I will follow up on Zambesi's Shooboot. Winter is coming.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
April sun
The Avon River in the late afternoon, autumn light. Ten metres to the left, six-foot aluminium fences ford the river, river banks and Cambridge Terrace. But to the right...to the right there is this.
The punts have just begun operating again on a reduced river loop.
The bridge is impassable, dressed with the ubiquitous fluorescent orange cones and temporary fencing. But you would never know from here.
My mother's room in Christchurch Public Hospital's aptly named Riverside Block overlooks the Avon and Botanical Gardens; north-facing for all day sun.
Fortunately, I had my phone with me to capture these, but it does have its limits. I hope you get the idea. Easter Sunday in Christchurch was a thing of beauty, with the promise of renewal.
(Although we have just had yet another aftershock - best not get ahead of myself!)
Happy Easter x
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| Punts outside the Antigua Boat Sheds (since 1882) on the Avon River, Christchurch |
The punts have just begun operating again on a reduced river loop.
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| Looking up towards the Antigua Boat Sheds from the Hospital Bridge, Riverside |
The bridge is impassable, dressed with the ubiquitous fluorescent orange cones and temporary fencing. But you would never know from here.
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| Looking from the Hospital Bridge off Rolleston Avenue up-river through the Botanical Gardens, Hagley Park |
My mother's room in Christchurch Public Hospital's aptly named Riverside Block overlooks the Avon and Botanical Gardens; north-facing for all day sun.
Fortunately, I had my phone with me to capture these, but it does have its limits. I hope you get the idea. Easter Sunday in Christchurch was a thing of beauty, with the promise of renewal.
(Although we have just had yet another aftershock - best not get ahead of myself!)
Happy Easter x
Friday, April 22, 2011
Cut and paste
Bottom lips began to tremble at the supermarket check-out as the Misses T were told to return the TV Guide. I have never bought one. And I never will.
"But she's a Princess!"
Not yet. Another week. The manipulative mileage I have made out of the Royal Wedding is alarming.
If the girls are exceptionally good, at everything, all week, then we will go to Grandma's and watch the televised wedding coverage live. This is huge. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because it involves staying up very late. The prospect of late night gallivanting is almost overwhelming. And then there is the dressing up (for them).
Eldest Miss T is working up a mood board. I succumbed to the the pull of the corner dairy's cheap magazine titles for more material. There was frantic cutting and pasting all afternoon.
While she monopolised all things Royal and Wedding, I rediscovered the joys of creating my own mood board, exploring rather different themes.
I have to say, there is something enormously therapeutic about cutting and pasting, and all without one keystroke or mouse click.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Adults - Nothing To Lose
Like a GOOD girl, I have been silent. I have had nothing pleasant or engaging to say, and so I have said nothing. Swallowed it all down.
Swallowed away the anger; the fear; the dark things we shouldn't bore others with let alone reveal about ourselves.
I have been pacing about the house; a short-tempered yo-yo. Truth is, there is a lot about which I am not happy.
I read the blogs of so many wonderful women living lives I covet, and I have been inspired by them. But I am so very far away from those lives. However much they may have put a spring in my step; my world is small and closing in.
The world has moved on. There was Japan. Then Libya and the Ivory Coast, and twisters in the US. But I can't move on. I have nothing specific to complain about. I'm not grieving a death. Our home is standing. But there is loss - all around, tremendous loss.
And the reality is, we have years of such hideousness before us. Everything that made this such a great place to live has gone, or is denied us. Christchurch is one big suburb, with its ruptured streets, patched pipes and sewers, and precarious power supply; and no heart.
I lurch from hopelessness to illuminating the many, significant opportunities that a razed city presents. I know it's manic.
And I'm aware I shouldn't bore people on my blog with my lamentations. Who, really, wants to know? I don't want to know.
But I need to. I need to say what needs to be said. It might get a little dark, a little strident. I will have to throw off the shackles of my marketing mind that is screaming "blog suicide", and just get on with it.
I would like to say a special thank you to one of my followers, Tattieweasel. Tattie happened to read and comment on my March 19 blog. It wasn't a post of note. But it was the departure point for my dive into melancholy. Somehow, the fact that Tattie commented was enough to pull me out of my self-imposed, turbulent silence.
There's a newly released NZ song by Jon Toogood's collaboration The Adults that captures my mood perfectly with its slightly ominous, repressed tension. It's got a punk vibe with the two-chord thing, but Ladi6 is no punk - she's pure Pacific hip-hop funskster - rockin' it here with Shihad frontman Jon, and the distinctive Shane Carter.
It's definitely not everyone's cup of tea.
Swallowed away the anger; the fear; the dark things we shouldn't bore others with let alone reveal about ourselves.
I have been pacing about the house; a short-tempered yo-yo. Truth is, there is a lot about which I am not happy.
I read the blogs of so many wonderful women living lives I covet, and I have been inspired by them. But I am so very far away from those lives. However much they may have put a spring in my step; my world is small and closing in.
The world has moved on. There was Japan. Then Libya and the Ivory Coast, and twisters in the US. But I can't move on. I have nothing specific to complain about. I'm not grieving a death. Our home is standing. But there is loss - all around, tremendous loss.
And the reality is, we have years of such hideousness before us. Everything that made this such a great place to live has gone, or is denied us. Christchurch is one big suburb, with its ruptured streets, patched pipes and sewers, and precarious power supply; and no heart.
I lurch from hopelessness to illuminating the many, significant opportunities that a razed city presents. I know it's manic.
And I'm aware I shouldn't bore people on my blog with my lamentations. Who, really, wants to know? I don't want to know.
But I need to. I need to say what needs to be said. It might get a little dark, a little strident. I will have to throw off the shackles of my marketing mind that is screaming "blog suicide", and just get on with it.
I would like to say a special thank you to one of my followers, Tattieweasel. Tattie happened to read and comment on my March 19 blog. It wasn't a post of note. But it was the departure point for my dive into melancholy. Somehow, the fact that Tattie commented was enough to pull me out of my self-imposed, turbulent silence.
There's a newly released NZ song by Jon Toogood's collaboration The Adults that captures my mood perfectly with its slightly ominous, repressed tension. It's got a punk vibe with the two-chord thing, but Ladi6 is no punk - she's pure Pacific hip-hop funskster - rockin' it here with Shihad frontman Jon, and the distinctive Shane Carter.
It's definitely not everyone's cup of tea.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Moon Man: or portent of doom
Auckland based Ken Ring, the Moon Man, uses astrology - the moon, tidal movements and the sun - to predict weather patterns. More than 5,000 farmers and other weather watchers around New Zealand subscribe to his site Predict Weather. They swear by him.
He also predicts earthquakes. He has been sometimes lauded but mainly vilified for claiming to have predicted the 6.3 magnitude earthquake that hit Christchurch 22 February.
On his website he posted a warning in February that conditions were 'potent' for a significant earthquake in Christchurch during 15-25 February. He also tweeted on Valentine's Day that Christchurch would be especially vulnerable on the 18th - give or take three days.
Of course we now know that on February 22nd at 12.51pm a newly identified fault-line ruptured under the Port Hills at a depth less than 10 kilometres, and less than 10ks away from Christchurch city.
A confluence of factors dictate an earthquake experience - magnitude is but one of them. At various times during the 30 second quake, peak ground acceleration levels were recorded of more than 2G - or twice gravity - levels four times more than those experienced during Japan's enormous magnitude 9 earthquake this month. Cantabrians are now beginning to understand that ground acceleration and soil resonance - whether a building is moving/shaking at the same frequency as the ground below - are critical components of whether your city stands or falls. Combine that with our soil type - basically the city is built on old river beds and swamps - and you get the trampolining effect, whereby the ground layers effectively split and crash (vertically) into each other. Liquefaction is one of the results - and toppled buildings, and cracked pipes and roads and other infrastructure, too.
I am not convinced there's a point to my quake rambling here, but that's what I do. I read and research, and find the recitation of facts, albeit inexpertly recounted, calming.
I'm struggling to bring the same process to the vexed issue of Ken Ring's predictions of yet more earthquake activity in and around Christchurch on 20 March and 18 April. Here's what he has to say about 20 March, or, tomorrow.
He has advised us to stock up on basics and help others do the same. He has also said that if he lived in Christchurch, well, he'd be staying close to a strong safe structure or getting out altogether.
Many quake weary Cantabrians have done just that, with thousands taking advantage of the public memorial on Friday to make a long weekend of it - anywhere but here. Small towns and holiday attractions within 200 kilometres are booming.
The vast majority of broadcast and social media comments suggest Ken Ring is a crackpot and worse, a scare-monger preying on a devastated community, shamelessly self-promoting.
I think he truly believes his theories are valid and genuinely wants to warn people for the common good. As to the validity of his theories, I don't want to dismiss them out of hand because I do not know enough to critically evaluate his system. Besides, history is punctuated by societies that have practically lynched proponents of alternative ideologies. But I am tending towards the sceptical. (How else will I sleep?)
Suffice it to say, with a 'bob-each-way', I am staying in Christchurch, but have not re-hung mirrors, paintings or generally righted what's left of our ornaments, photos and other bits that could fall and smash. I have also ensured our water containers are full to overflowing and there's enough chocolate stored to last three days.
He also predicts earthquakes. He has been sometimes lauded but mainly vilified for claiming to have predicted the 6.3 magnitude earthquake that hit Christchurch 22 February.
On his website he posted a warning in February that conditions were 'potent' for a significant earthquake in Christchurch during 15-25 February. He also tweeted on Valentine's Day that Christchurch would be especially vulnerable on the 18th - give or take three days.
Of course we now know that on February 22nd at 12.51pm a newly identified fault-line ruptured under the Port Hills at a depth less than 10 kilometres, and less than 10ks away from Christchurch city.
A confluence of factors dictate an earthquake experience - magnitude is but one of them. At various times during the 30 second quake, peak ground acceleration levels were recorded of more than 2G - or twice gravity - levels four times more than those experienced during Japan's enormous magnitude 9 earthquake this month. Cantabrians are now beginning to understand that ground acceleration and soil resonance - whether a building is moving/shaking at the same frequency as the ground below - are critical components of whether your city stands or falls. Combine that with our soil type - basically the city is built on old river beds and swamps - and you get the trampolining effect, whereby the ground layers effectively split and crash (vertically) into each other. Liquefaction is one of the results - and toppled buildings, and cracked pipes and roads and other infrastructure, too.
I am not convinced there's a point to my quake rambling here, but that's what I do. I read and research, and find the recitation of facts, albeit inexpertly recounted, calming.
I'm struggling to bring the same process to the vexed issue of Ken Ring's predictions of yet more earthquake activity in and around Christchurch on 20 March and 18 April. Here's what he has to say about 20 March, or, tomorrow.
... the morning of 20 March 2011 sees the South island again in a big earthquake risk for all the same reasons. This date is the closest fly-past the moon does in all of 2011. The node arrives on the 20th at 9.44am. As that date coincides with lunar equinox this will probably be an east/west faultline event this time, and therefore should be more confined to a narrower band of latitude. The only east/west fault lines in NZ are in Marlborough and N Canterbury. All factors should come together for a moon-shot straight through the centre of the earth and targeting NZ. The time will be just before noon. It could be another for the history books.
He has advised us to stock up on basics and help others do the same. He has also said that if he lived in Christchurch, well, he'd be staying close to a strong safe structure or getting out altogether.
Many quake weary Cantabrians have done just that, with thousands taking advantage of the public memorial on Friday to make a long weekend of it - anywhere but here. Small towns and holiday attractions within 200 kilometres are booming.
The vast majority of broadcast and social media comments suggest Ken Ring is a crackpot and worse, a scare-monger preying on a devastated community, shamelessly self-promoting.
I think he truly believes his theories are valid and genuinely wants to warn people for the common good. As to the validity of his theories, I don't want to dismiss them out of hand because I do not know enough to critically evaluate his system. Besides, history is punctuated by societies that have practically lynched proponents of alternative ideologies. But I am tending towards the sceptical. (How else will I sleep?)
Suffice it to say, with a 'bob-each-way', I am staying in Christchurch, but have not re-hung mirrors, paintings or generally righted what's left of our ornaments, photos and other bits that could fall and smash. I have also ensured our water containers are full to overflowing and there's enough chocolate stored to last three days.
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| The Moon Man, Ken Ring Photo: www.stuff.co.nz |
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