“Resistance” is in my blood … just ask my Mama ;) … and as I look over my unique heritage, I’m not really surprised at all.

Theres the Irish and Scottish colonisation’s, that resulted in their Response and continued Resistance. A few of those ancestors were sent to these ‘colonies’, and tahdah, our line changed. They weren’t perfect humans by any means, in fact there’s a couple who were down right assholes, but I’ll leave that for another post. But their Resistance to the invasion of their countries, was second to none. I admire the fuck out of that part of their narrative.

Then there’s the Jewish blood; the English blood; the French Canadian blood … and of course … the tangata whenua – Maori blood.

Learning about my tipuna and the layers of my Indigenous culture, has given Me a tonne of strength; it’s answered a heap of questions for Me; it’s made Me realise that I already know, deep down, what I need … Who I am … where I want to be. It’s given Me layers upon layers of beautiful healing.

And I am made up of multiple layers of Resistance and Response.

That Resistance has been voiced regarding colonisation and the social justice issues We continue to face as tangata whenua, through my art; and more recently that has extended to responding to, and re-framing sexual violence.

This love of justice … fairness … questioning … reframing … is what gives Me that fire in my belly. It’s probably what has helped to keep Me alive at times and I am grateful for it.  I’d rather have it, than have nothing at all <3

“Thou Shalt Not Concede”

kpm ©



me & bumble bees

did i tell yah

i love

the humble

bumble bee?

well, i do.

wanna know why?

according to some


scientific dude,

these little creatures,

shouldn’t be able to fly.


their little fat

fuzzy bodies,

should be to heavy

for their

petite little


but even though

some old fart

decided, in his

infinite wisdom,

that the aero-dynamics

of it all

just don’t

add up,

they fly

just fine,


so why do i

like ’em so much?

because they defy

the odds.

they are what

they are,

no matter what

any cunt decides

they should be(e).





me & my music memories

You, know, I thought I’d already covered music. But apparently not. So here it is, my explanation (of sorts), of my love … affinity … gravitation … toward and with music.

I’m not a genre buff per se. If I had to pick one it would have to be R&B … which is pretty wide.

But my love of music probably happened before I was even birthed lol. My Nan would sing to Me when I was little, and I actually remember some of those songs :)

Her and I would watch old movies with Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds …  She also loved classical and operatic music. My Nan is where my love of Dance was nurtured <3

As I got older I was more influenced by Christian / Pentecostal ‘worship’ music, but absolutely loved Black Gospel. Theres nothing quite like the old Gospel.

My mother was / is a musician and still plays the guitar. When I was growing up I remember her music and her guitaring. She’d listen to ‘folk’ type music, like Peter, Paul and Mary … Simon and Garfunkel. Now whilst that wasn’t exactly my favourite, I guess it influenced what I was drawn too.

Because we were raised ‘Christian’, we weren’t allowed to listen to what was deemed ‘mainstream’ music. That didn’t stop Me, obviously, and made the listening to the ‘forbidden’ that much sweeter.

I’d find old cassette tapes and tape the songs that would come on the radio, as quickly as I could, before my mother got out of the shower, or returned from the supermarket lol. I kept those tapes tucked away and would listen to them when my mother was out or we went to my Grandparents. I was influenced by your mainstream ‘pop’ at the time, (the 80s), and because I was a dancer, that type of music also influenced my overall love of music.

Another great music memory for Me, is my Grandfather. I’d go to work with him when I was at their house for the holidays. This is something I absolutely loved. It is one of the few memories that I’ve clung on to over the years. It’s where my love for building and concrete and making things, comes from. And during these ‘work sessions’ with my Grandfather, he’d listen to the local radio station. I got to hear all the new songs and radio being what it is, they’d play the songs over and over, which meant I got to learn all the words :)

By the time my first daughter was born, I’d sing to her. It’s also one of the best memories I have of an extremely stressful, sad time – holding her, and rocking her and singing her to sleep.

I did the same when my second baby girl was born too, and she had the same reaction. She’d go all limp and relaxed, look at Me as I’d sing to her; smile and then go to sleep :)

And as the years went on, I was influenced by Country and Western, Heavy Metal, Rock, Jazz, Soul, Blues, Hip Hop, Underground, Thrash, D&B, House, Dub, Reggae, Ska … the list goes on. The first 2 were never my favourite genres but they still added to my ‘taste’.

I guess music has always been with Me.

It eases Me in ways I can’t explain. It helps Me to vent, focus, re focus … and as I’ve moved throughout the years, I’ve figured out what ‘does it for Me’. I’m drawn to the eerie minor keys and tones and those come in all genres. I’m not particularly drawn to lyrics as is the ‘norm’; but instead am drawn to ‘the feel’ or the ‘atmosphere’ that a piece of music gives.

It’s not something I could live without I don’t think. Although I have sensitive little ears lol, I think of all the ‘disabilities’ I wouldn’t want … the loss of hearing would be the hardest.

For Me, music holds some of my best memories I’ve got <3





I come from a family of ‘sensitives’ … sensitive skin, sensitive tummy, sensitive hearing, sensitive taste … Just sensitive all round.

And then theres the ‘other’ sensitive. The one ‘they’d’ medicate or lock you up for, if you talked about it ‘out loud’.

It’s the sensitive that see’s whats supposedly not there. That hear’s whats supposedly inaudible. That can smell subtleties that no-one else can smell. That can sense what ‘isn’t’ there.

Is this such a strange phenomenon for Indigenous? No. It’s not. And prior to the Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907, the sensitivity I’m talking about was called matakite.  For mainstream though, it’s something they don’t understand and fuck up, whilst they try and understand it or distinguish it.

I always had trouble distinguishing between my dreams and nightmares and what was actually present. Both freaked Me out. And when my eldest daughter came along, and she could sense similar things, I also freaked out. Some of this was to do with the christian belief that everything that couldn’t be seen with your physical eyes, was evil; or there was something inherently evil about the ‘see-er’.

When my 2nd daughter came along, her ‘sixth sense’ about things was quite ‘organic’ and natural. It didn’t seem freaky or mystical so to speak. It just seemed normal.

By the time my mokos came along, we were all beginning to embrace what we were as pretty normal, even though we didn’t fully understand it. Moko #1 senses what isn’t seen and whats not spoken. Moko #2, can smell whats not there; she can also understand whats ‘not spoken’. Moko #3 can hear the almost inaudible; and can also see your motive; she can also sense your pain. Moko #4 can hear your motive.

And Me. Well I’m still working out the difference between whats a sensitivity and whats pts(d). But I know whats a dream now, and what isn’t. I know now, when to ask my tipuna (ancestors) for assistance and advice.

What I like the most … is that my mokos won’t struggle with all of this like I did, or like my daughter did. For them, its natural, and they’re learning how to make it work for them.

kpm ©



shoe porn.

I was thinking about stuff I like … shit that makes Me feel Nice … Yah know … Just to add to my ‘365 reasons to smile’ mojo …

So I decided to google #shoeporn … because shoes are just one of most favourite-est things … well good shoes that is.

Any who … I was quite disgusted, nay appalled, at what our millennials believe is a good shoe, be-fitting the hashtag slash title of “Shoe Porn”.

Apparently a sneaker, that looks similar to what I could buy at K Mart for $14, but said sneaker has a teensy tiny little label on it, that alludes to the possibility of that shoe being a Louis Vuitton; but not actuals … well that shit is classed as ‘shoe porn’. Wtf right?

Now I’m No expert in shoes … however, there are a couplely things that place a shoe (for Me anyways) in the Shoe Porn Zone.

A. They’ve gotta be sexy. … and I don’t mean hooker boot sexy; I mean classy, Italian,  Yanis Marshall dancing in them, sexy.

B. They’ve gotta suit your feet. They’ve gotta suit You.

Now, my Nan was my shoe fettish idol. She had heels for miles and her feet had arches like Naomi Campbell. I loved watching her get all dressed up to the nines, with the heels that perfectly accompanied her outfit. She was my version of quintessential elegance.

Shoes became something that I gravitated towards and unknowingly collected like other peeps collect little ceramic angels that gather dust on their shelves. Shoes were my go-to for elegance and relief. I’m a dress from the shoe up kind of girl; meaning the shoes are everything … except for the, ‘how’ you wear them.

For Me – Shoes are an Art unto themselves ;)

Heres a little sample of what I’m referring too.

by Gucci

by Alberta Ferretti

by Richard Braqo

My taste in shoes is obviously way overpriced … but I know my taste in shoes is also gangstah … and they make Me happy … and isn’t that all that matters really!

*Oh … I feel another shoe collection coming on ;) *

kpm ©




Me: “Um, my camera isn’t working … have you been using it?”

Partner: “No”

Me: “Really? Cos theres sand all over it …”

Partner: “I said No … geez”

Me: “Are you sure? Because theres photos of you on the SD card … looks like your … cleaning the lens??”

Partner: “Ahhhhh … Ok, I may have dropped it … but it was an accident … ”

Me: “Your worse than the bloody kids yah know that … ”

Last pic, is the distorted, sand encumbered look of Guilt!

Humbug ;)




kpm ©


on : dead funeral stuff

Yes, it seems a little morbid, but after recent events and conversations I decided to take matters into my own hands, and plan ahead. Properly.

After a little research I found out the following (for our country anyways) … this is ‘my’ interpreted version:

  • A will doesn’t need to be done with a lawyer, it just needs to be written and witnessed by 2 people who won’t get anything out of it; the will that is.
  • You can’t bury on private land unless you have a shitload of permits.
  • Burying in a cemetery also takes a shitload of permits.
  • Why be buried with a shit tonne of people you don’t know, especially when you hardly liked people when you were alive?
  • The funeral industry is just that; an industry. They’ll make a buck off’ve anything.
  • A service is held for customary reasons. There’s no real necessity in it.
  • You don’t need a casket to be buried in, or cremated in.
  • You don’t need to be embalmed.
  • You don’t need to be cut up unless you died some heinous way and they want to poke around and find the cause of death.
  • If you get buried in non-biodegradable shit (including the box), that shit lingers and leeches into the earth.
  • An urn is a waste of money. A jar will do.
  • The cheapest way to go is cremation; but that still costs a shit tonne of money. I think the Vikings had the right idea.
  • It’s still possible to be buried at sea, but again, you need a shit tonne of permits.
  • Even a natural burial here, has regulations re: planting, depth of burial, buying a plot.
  • It’ll cost you a small fortune to transport the body and hire a mortician peep, but when fams are grieving, that’s the last thing they’re worried about.
  • Apparently you can get some death grant to help with expenses. How nice of them.
  • A cemetery is still Council / Crown owned. And has regulations.
  • Memorials, headstones and plinths also cost an immoral amount of money.
  • When you’re dead, You’re dead.

kpm ©


its a suicide related poem

i was seven

and he was 30 something, i think.

well, he seemed old.

but everything seems old when you’re little.

he was a whirlwind


but passionate

& safe.

but angry.

he was the funny one.

the loved one.

the crawl up into his lap one.

the one that should have stayed.

but his demons caught him

and his out was permanent.

and his body still, lifeless, asleep.

wanting to touch his hand

his face

to wake him up.

to take the bandage off

his face.

to wake him up.

and as their tears flowed

and i turned my head round, to take notice

it was grief, i saw.

but didn’t understand.

he would never wake up, ever again.

his life he took, his life was his.

his act of defiance and self determination,

it was his.

and the grief i felt

then, but not knowing

was in-compared

to the grief

that came later.

when i


that he wasn’t coming back.

or waking up.

or building.

or yelling.

or singing.

or being.

he was.



he wasn’t before, but

now is free.

and we are sad.

kpm ©


the bra debacle

other person so unnamed: “aren’t you going to wear a bra when we go out in public?”

me: “is that a question?”

other person so unnamed: “yes”

me: “make you a deal; you wear a bra for 24 hours & then I’ll answer your question”.

other person so unnamed: *silence*

kpm ©


religion conversation.

questionnaire twat asks:

  • what do you consider as your religion?

me: i don’t have one

  • why not

me: i don’t like ‘religion’ per se

  • why not

me: they have no relevance in my world

  • religion has relevance in every world

me: not in mine

  • well for the purposes of this questionnaire, i need you to pick a religion you most align too

me: i think thats bullshit. you need to add a tab to the questionnaire which says ‘no religious belief’

  • well thats not going to happen today, so

me: so, i’ll answer you, but you need to note in the ‘other’ section that i don’t have a religion per se

  • alright then *in a terse tight-ass tone*

me: so you can log me in as a taoist slash anarchist

  • pardon

me: yep, you heard right. log it in.

kpm ©



changing the feels for 2019.

i haven’t done ‘new years resolutions’ for like, forever. too much pressure & as far as i’m concerned a waste of time. if you can’t do shit off’ve your own steam during a year, why on earth do you think a new day & a new year is gonna change it?

fyi: it aint. mind due, thats not based on any scientific research however i’d love to see the stats if any exist ;)

for me though: next year is an ‘on purpose’ change of ‘feels’.

i’ve decided to do things a little different next year.

on top of the agenda: do away with the gregorian calendar.

i hardly do anything on it anyways; but i want to learn more about our natural cycles & how my ancestors did shit. they managed to make their way to this land by following the stars which IMO was way more accurate not to mention, way more gangstah than that colombus idiot who didn’t seem to know which way he was going!

so, gregorian calendar – gone. the beauty of apple & its apps … i was able to bring up all the holidays / days of remembrance / schedules, & then re work what i wanted too & do away with the rest. gone is christmas, having been replaced with a ‘family day’ & appropriate ‘self management’ days, before & after. gone is easter, labour day, queens birthday, halloween & guy fawkes. instead i’ll be acknowledging ANZAC as a day of remembrance for my grandfather … all he was exposed too & came home with; all his family sacrificed & the strength he utilised to live a full & productive life. the only land / country holiday, as such, i’ll be ‘doing’ is waitangi day & i’ve added in our ‘independence day’ which was 5 years prior to waitangi. both days will, for me, be about protest, learning & teaching; because until my entire family are decolonised then my job here isn’t done.

i’ve replaced halloween with Día de los Muertos, because for me, its important to remember those that went before us & not in the pakeha sense of it all. i want a day where we remember the babies we’ve lost, our grandparents, friends … & i want their stories told. this day of remembrance, does that for me. 2019 will be the first time i’ve observed this officially: unofficially though, i’ve been doing this for years.

i’ll observe the gregorian new year as a ‘turn over’, but i’ll be concentrating on our matariki, which is in the month June by the gregorian calendar. this, according to our ancestors, marks the change of season & the star formation that appears in the sky once a year. i haven’t really ‘done’ matariki so 2019 will be a learning curb here too.

other than that, moko & familia birthdays will be celebrated as usual :)

i’ve added in self care & self management days so i can add to what i’ve been learning this year … that that shit takes its toll on me & i need to remember to look after myself before, during & after.

as far as ‘goals’ go, i’m going to work on ‘holding my space’. which will require me to be more ‘present’ & ‘in my body’ … arrghhh … thats a giant head fuck for me so i’m not adding much more to my ‘to-do’ list.

& as far as art goes – i’ll concentrate on photography.

the highlight of this year was making it through it !! lol … as lame as it sounds, i’m still super stoked with all that i managed this year. super duper stoked!

so as you all go about rounding off you’re year … stay safe … have fun … & a giant ThankYou for hanging around for the sometimes, extremely tumultuous ride!!!

love & light peeps!! x

*  i’ll leave you with photos from our article in the newspaper featuring yours truly, my mama & brother & our recent artistic accomplishments ;) *




no goodbyes …

not a great ‘do-er’ of ‘new years’ celebrations anymore, but i like the marking of the end of one thing & the transition into another.

thats what this new years is for me.

a recap of what i achieved, celebrated, struggled with, came to terms with, let go of & paid the price for. it’s all growth. & its all good. & i’m still grappling with some of it both mentally & physically.  my tummy is still in knots & i can’t quite find my groove. but i’m trying to take it one little hour @ a time & not dwell on too much for too long.

so, i went hunting for a photo of our little mate that died just before the gregorian christmas period … well a photo of how i remember him anyways.  but i couldn’t find the one i was originally looking for, but found another of him & i found others too.

they reminded me of all the things & people that come & go. that time doesn’t stand still. that memories are all we have sometimes. that the good is always mixed with the bad & that sometimes you have to hunt to find where one starts & the other ends. that love never gets old. that loneliness is the loudest sound in the world. that pain subsides for some. that growth is inevitable. & that death is too.

& that its All all good.


#ThePermWasTiiiight #KingiWasABBoy #NanPouredTheRum #BabyGirlListenedToMotownOnCassette #FourGenerationsWasntNoThang #IkaWasCute #TheSkinWasFlawlessButYouStillWantedToBeDifferent #TheSmokeMachineWasLiiiife #RewaiWasInAllTheShots #MinnieStillHadDoggy #WeLaughedAtGrandadsHatAndNowWouldKillToSeeHimInItAgain #MySisterWasLittle #ChristmasWasAThing #IWasTryingToTeachThemBoutOurHistoryAndProtestAndTheyWereBoredAF #DollazWasAMidget #PamzillaWouldntSmileAtKoro #PookieKnewExactlyWhereSheWantedToGo #TheBigBabiesCouldSwingOffKorosShoulders #TheyWentToLiveWithTheirDadAndMyHeartBroke #GrandadsANZACParadeSeemedWayToEarly #PooksHadHerFirstPeach #MyBrotherWasShorterThanMe #PammyAlwaysHadOneShoeCosWhoNeedsTwo #MamasHadEnoughEnergyToRunAfterTheMidgets #MyMamaStillHatedPhotos & #ILovedCrowdsAndConcerts

photography & art @kpm-artist 



sort of christmasy …

replace weekend with christmas & you’re sorted:

#YouAreWelcome & i’ll see you on the flip side!

not my meme :)


reconciling the hormones #87

yep, finally getting those bitches tested.

@ least it’ll give me some fucking clarity.



sad news.

my eldest daughter is 30. i had her just after i turned 16. our lives were hard; slightly tormented, but i did the best i could & loved her like no other.

she has her own family now. a beautiful growing family.

today she messaged me to let me know that a friend of hers had died. he’s a friend of mine too, but not like her. i’m the mother of lol. i’m the one that got called ‘…. her mum’. i remember him from my girls school days & caught up with him in later years via facebook, as you do.

he took his own life.

he left behind  a little boy whose just turned one.

i don’t think i’m sad because he died this way … i get it … he had a tormented life too. i don’t think i’m sad because he left behind his son … he’ll be loved & cared for.

i think i’m sad because as i get older & as i watch my kids grow up & have kids of their own; i can see their pain as their lives unfold & as they make their decisions. as they lose their friends & make new friends. & it hurts me.

i guess that’s the mother in me.

the part of me that always wanted to keep them safe knowing that they’d have to grow up & make their own decisions: live their own lives. but still somewhere in me is that basic instinct that wants them to be safe from all harm.

& it sucks when it doesn’t work.

my girl is sad but realistic. she has regrets & wishes. i guess that’s all part of life.

but today: it sucks shit.


& 2018 is nearly a wrap.

from a friends fb post:

Keanu Reeves writes.. “My friend’s mom has eaten healthy all her life. Never ever consumed alcohol or any “bad” food, exercised every day, very limber, very active, took all supplements suggested by her doctor, never went in the sun without sunscreen and when she did it was for as short a period as possible- so pretty much she protected her health with the utmost that anyone could. She is now 76 and has skin cancer, bone marrow cancer and extreme osteoporosis.
My friend’s father eats bacon on top of bacon, butter on top of butter, fat on top of fat, never and I mean never exercised, was out in the sun burnt to a crisp every summer, he basically took the approach to live life to his fullest and not as others suggest. He is 81 and the doctors says his health is that of a young person.
People you cannot hide from your poison. It’s out there and it will find you so in the words of my friend’s still living mother: ” if I would have known my life would end this way I would have lived it more to the fullest enjoying everything I was told not to!”
None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an after thought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth that you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.”

& that is how i feel about 2018.

i set goals. goals i achieved.

to the naked eye, they may look lame AF & not even ‘goal worthy’, but believe me when i say, this was some hard shit to do. from actually making ‘achievable’ but negotiable goals, and being alright with that … to planning for each thing and making sure my feng shui was respected & maintained @ all times LOL

i did the epic fail on some of them … like taking way to many anti-anxiety meds for one of the kids ‘gatherings’ & only remembering part of the actually event the following day … too having to take my funky ass outta the situation for a giant panic attack & hissy fit & howly bag really, & then having to return to the situation; one occasion, still in tears.

it meant explanations & no explanations.

they stretched me. made me tired. gave me a tonne of panic fucks. they messed with my feng shui & fucked up my body.

but i did them.

not cos i had to. but because i wanted too. i wanted to get my shit done. i wanted to build on each thing & do more. i wanted to get to the end of this year knowing that i had done what i set out to do.

& i did.

i don’t regret any of the ‘how’ i managed my shit, cos sometimes, it just was not pretty lol.

but i still fucking got it done.

& i think thats been my biggest lesson this year.

that sometimes its not how we plan it. its not what we think it will be. its not how we design it in ours heads.

& there is no right or wrong way to get that shit done. cos when its done, its done!

so here’s to achieving shit. heres to jobs well done.

heres to me ;)

i’m pretty proud of me!




reconciling the hormones #86

& que the hormone fuckery.

right on time.



reconciling the hormones #85


so under-estimated.

so over-rated.

that’s all.



reconciling the hormones #84

it feels like my uterus is making its way up my spine, then

decides against that,

turns round & heads back toward my asshole.

just to linger there, pulsating,

& torturing my insides with contraction like pains.


i was looking forward to this bastard showing up.





made it! 2017.

the year of the father fuckery.

thats all i clearly remember about 2017.

oh, and the exhibition.

fuck i painted my father issues out and pumped out like 15 pieces of art for that exhibition. it was awesome … painful but awesome.

art gives me clarity. not like mental clarity … but emotional clarity.

i’m not big on emotions and for some reason art does the explaining that i can’t do. and i was hugely fucking grateful for it throughout the fathers fuckery.

it’s not nice realising you aren’t wanted. i don’t mean loved … i mean wanted.

when you want something, you get it … buy it .. whatever.

when you don’t care for it, you’ll pass it by.

and thats what i realised about my father and me. i was not wanted. that was quite clear. his ‘love’ came with a shitload of conditions and i couldn’t and wouldn’t live up to them. i was just finding my groove and there was no way that fucker was going to fuck it up.

in saying that though .. it hurt like fuck!

through my art, i got to express all of the shit i felt. later, i was able to analyse it and let it go. but that took up most of the fucking year … but it got done.

the other huge highlight for 2017 was the birth of moko #8 :) she is a beauty … it’d be nice to see more of her but thats my partners department at the moment.

what else …

i made goals for 2018 … thats right … and i’m slowly making my way through them all.

this was the first time in a fucking long ass time that i’d actually set proper real life, big girl goals lol.

it was a fucked year re anxiety and the drugs got thrown back quite abit. i’m still trying to down grade the intact … but am getting there … slowly but surely.

and …

i think thats about it for 2017. sounds fucking boring actually lol. but i guess boring is pretty good at this stage of the game.

roll on the end of 2018 and i’ll do a recap for that.

love and light peoples.