Kia ora e hoa
The end of October 2021 was a gift to writers and writing fans as we were home to the NZ Young Writers Fest. I even took a day off work.
I was lucky enough to MC the opening party, and I attended workshops, panels, and a slam. I partied with incredible people. I made my first zine. And I wrote.
[composed during workshop with Jordan Hamel 30.10.2021, after I am a Cave - Jackson Nieuwland] Empty and dark Filled with bioluminescence I am hard with soft spots You may use me for shelter You may use me to bury your dead You might think me dead, too But I am living rock My blood is sequinned quartz My body is an open mouth I breathe in & out always You might think me lonely But I am conjoined to my sisters We share veins & are each other's lungs I am a cave in her prime Peaceful rock Put your ear to my heart.
There was a session of my darling Ōtepoti Writers Lab on the same day – I caught the first 30mins and the last 30mins, with Emer Lyons facilitating.
[composed via Emer's prompt, itself inspired by Rebecca Hawkes' poem Nemesis Mine. Prompt; 'a menagerie, we are at sea, we are in battle for love' Waves crest & fall & in the gaps we see you distantly floating nowhere the dolphins offer to tow with speed to love but you can't understand the giraffes shoot flares from their mouths fireworks for our love but you perceive it as a threat my love for you has overcome these beasts I have glamoured them now me & the menagerie push on through this evil hateful sea to win your love with the force of tides a tidal surge of love is coming for you if you'd only engage your motor point to me
On Friday the 29th, I went to Rushi Vyas‘ workshop in which we explored the idea of Somatic Ritual. We strolled to the Octagon to feel the Earth, interact with trees, or dance at our leisure and then write. We broke into two groups and took turns reading/whispering/singing the newspaper at each other. There was so much to dip into. I wrote a number of small things in response to senses. Review; sight, smell, touch, hearing, taste. Consider; proprioception, memory.
[I take a spoon from the bag proffered by Rushi] Silver-plated What is underneath? If I rub really hard will the silver wear away? Maybe I'll just be polishing. I want to put it in a bowl of Greek yoghurt Scoop it into my open mouth Move the white around my tongue Tart creaminess The silver reacts, too Voiceless [With our eyes closed, Rushi hands us each something. He asks that we examine it with our eyes closed, maybe smell it, listen to it, then open our eyes and write.] Wheels and ridges The echoes of plastic inside plastic inside plastic Sitting on the floor Tonka yellow, but I found green I want to open the door but it's not real Truck-shaped but I found an Escalade Scentless but senses fill in gaps Roll it over thigh Chest Table It's a piece of time Joining me to a tree of other people They rolled on the floor into my life What did the buttons do? "2006 Escalade used under license" [I was handed a toy Escalade about the size of a bunny which required batteries at some point]
On our excursion to the Octagon I sat by the fountain at first to watch the gulls, then I walked over to lie on the grass beneath Robbie Burns, then I wrote quickly:
Grass is a living object
I put my body on to it
Leaves bend for me
Thank you
My body is a living object
I put it on to the Earth
She holds me always
Thank you
Grass tickles and smells like green
Moisture held inside
& I could draw it out.
Sunshine warms me
& the grass
& scents grow as if heat multiplies
I think moisture carries scents
Will I smell of grass when I get up?
Why can't I sit/lie/be
STILL?
People are afraid of stillness
No, don't speak for every person
The air above moves
White clouds thru blue
Green again, too
Birds watch me
Birds speak to me
We're all quite hungry.
And these have been the excerpts of things I wrote during the NZYWF 2021. I hope my unedited scrawlings have been pleasant. x