not twittering twitter

I’m thinking I may finish up my twittering … it’s not really my jam. I remember Johanna saying she couldn’t do twitter, mainly because she didn’t like being confined to 140 characters. And I think I’m beginning to agree with her!

I’m a bit of a long talker / explainer, when I get going … and I like the freedom to express myself in a variety of expletives, if necessary.

But when the little twitter troll pops up after I hit ‘tweet’, and it tells Me I need to be more clever-er with my words so I can fit what I’m saying into the provided, 140 … I get pissed!!

I’m not good with being told what I can and can’t do lol.

And what I have discovered, is peeps tend to be quite nasty – not all of them of course – but I think some may have misled themselves into believing that ‘nasty’ and clipped, is the same as clever and ‘direct’.

It’s not.

But all this got Me thinking about reducing my social media thing-a-me-whats-its. I like Instagram and it’s awesome for my art. I love Blogging … I get to be as short or lengthy as I like. And Facebook … well, its Facebook. No explanation needed really … It’s not great … It’s not Bad.

Kinda like my hairdo at the moment.

I’ve been toying with the idea of combining both my blogs. I separated them to begin with because I couldn’t juggle the 2 threads of art / photography with being pts(d) ridden. What I’ve come to realise, is that they are one in the same thing.

They’re both Me, and I need them both. Thats what reconciliation is about 😉

So, there may be a few changes round here over the next few months … don’t worry though … I’ll still be gangstah 😉

Video

mauri of me #20 ~ dance

I have never been a lover of exercise. And before all the exercise dieting buffs give Me a lecture on the benefits of those 2 things, let Me tell yah why I don’t like them … as only I can 😉

a. I have a theory that both of these things, exercise and dieting, are a ploy to make money. Back in the day, my ancestors hunted, gathered, chopped down trees, gardened etc. They didn’t have time for Pilates or Jogging. This tells Me:

  • We now do less ‘activity’.
  • Our version of ‘productive’ has changed.

Dieting was also non-existent. We ate what we had; what we had worked hard to grow and hunt. And our rates of heart disease and diabetes were … Nil.

Now We expend our energies on making money to go to the shop to buy crap food to kill whilst cooking, thus depleting its nutritional value, so we can fill up and sit on our asses until Pilates class.

These 2 things put profits into someone elses pocket and benefit Me, How?

b. I don’t run (aka exercise). I don’t enjoy it. I don’t like it. It doesn’t make sense to me. I run to, or from something. Like, to – the toilet. And, from – the police. Thats it.

c. I don’t diet (aka reduce carbs etc). I don’t enjoy it. I don’t like it. Why take away good food (whole foods, organics) and replace them with shit food? I don’t do nuts and legumes. I do do whole milk, fresh coffee beans, greens from my garden, organic meat, fresh fruit. Oh, and M&Ms 😉

d. Over exertion speeds up my heart rate which feels just like a good old panic attack. Why do that?

However …

I have always been a lover of dance.

Some would say thats exercise … and sure, you can categorise it as such. But its also a thing of joy and beauty.

My Nan was a dancer. I’m pretty sure I’ve written a post about her love for dance before, but I’m to lazy to find it at the moment 😉 She saw the love for dance and music in Me, when I was little. When I was about 6 or 7, she paid for Ballet lessons for Me; right up until I was 14 or 15 I think, when I got pregnant with my first child.

The thing with dance … as most cultures will attest too … there is something extremely liberating and cathartic and freeing and expression-ful (pretty sure thats not a word, but oh well lol), about it.

After I got pregnant, my dancing stopped. I went back to it in my 20s and then found I was pregnant with my second girl and was possibly going to miscarry … so the dancing stopped again.

When I left my husband, I wanted to go back to classes and eventually either apply to the Ballet School or teach. Instead, after quite a few ‘hiccups’, I had a nervous breakdown instead ;).

So instead of dance school, I got drunk and danced my ass off every night, 7 nights a week. I didn’t realise it then, but I needed to dance. And it was probably my saviour.

When I sobered up and turned into an anxiety ridden pts(d) freak, my dancing stopped, again.

That was just over 10 years ago.

I’ve been missing it for about the last 3 years, but haven’t had the energy, physically, but mainly, mentally, to go back to it.

So, it occurs to Me the other day, that the urge I have for it is returning … hard. And instead of reasoning out the hows and whys and why can’ts and so forths … I took a leaf from the melenials hand book (because they can do anything, cos no-one has told them they can’t!) … and googled it and then YouTubed it.

I typed in what I liked in the way of dance … what I wanted etc. And I came up with ‘Drag Queens Burlesque’. LOL. Now I’m not anti that At All … but is that available here in hicksville? Nope.

But it got Me thinking.

I love what Drag Queens do. I love their exuberance; their passion; the joy they seem to exude and ooze. I guess I could start my own Drag Queen thing, but as a straight brown girl just trying to find a niche? 😉

Ok, so back to the googling.

And then I struck upon Yanis Marshall.

Now I’m a little late to that party … obviously.

But Oh My Fuck … This filled Me with so much happiness and excitement; and I found my desire to dance again. Not just a whimsical wanting … but a definite … Must Do.

I’ve posted this dude before, but heres another sample:

His links are on his videos, so check them out if you’re interested.

But any who … As I was watching … I realised … I have this training … and I have this ability … and I have the passion for dance …

I am slightly unfit … Ok, really unfit lol … which took Me back to the ‘exercise’ question/theory. Would I exercise to get fit enough to be able to do this?

Nope.

Then I watched this:

And I remembered just how hard it is to be a dancer … but how beautiful it is … and that when you love something that much … its not hard, its not ‘exercise’, its not work … but its all of those things … its Dance 🙂

So, this is Me 🙂

I’m taking on the Dance part of Me again.

And guess what … strangely enough … I am super fucking excited 😉

Yes, I may break a few things … and yes, I probably will have more than a few panic attacks as I figure out whats over exertion and whats pts fucking d; and Yes, I will be sore as fuck, for a very long while …

But I don’t give a fuck.

I love dance … and I’m tired of waiting to ‘be alright’.

I remember my Nan saying she missed dancing … and even when she was in her 80s she would still waltz around the lounge room when she was ‘in the mood’. I wanna do that … but in heels lol … No seriously … I want to still be dancing right up until I croak … I’ve taken a long enough break I think 😉

Quote

oh yeah …

I Like My Friends.

They’re Gangstah 🙂

‘Me’

Video

lets dance ~ david bowie

Let’s Dance – David Bowie, 1983

Image

mauri of me #19 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 😉 *

Link

mauri of me #18

From https://envirowatchrangitikei.wordpress.com:

“NZ has a rocket base that’s received $25 million Govt funding & is financially supported by the world’s largest weapons trader, Lockheed Martin”

In other posts, I’ve recently touched on my Father and Land Issues.

Both of these things are things which have shaped Me.

The land that my Father has been wanting to ‘return’ too, and build on, is next to the land in this article.

This has also been a point of dis-contention between us.

Throughout the generations there have been what the Indigenous have referred to as Kupapa, or supporters of the Colonial Cause. Their infamy has taken on a few forms, but selling off land at a pittance, or defrauding their own people are 2 of their most loathsome traits.

In this day and age, Kupapa still exist.

Their rhetoric however, has been tweaked.

Now they tend to espouse that We are not ‘utilising’ our resources properly; or We should ‘collaborate’ with the Crown, usually in the form of receiving their ‘assistance’ … that assistance usually comes with a clause in the documentation which states (in a nutshell), that if the rates are not maintained; the land is not maintained (to their specifications) etc, then the Land becomes the Crowns. We are advised to form Trusts and borrow from banks, using the Land as collateral.

The Land in question at the moment (in the re-blogged article), is next to this Rocket Base.

The long term environmental impact is unknown.

The long term cultural impact can be predicted really.

Again, We will be shafted.

This angst; this fuckery; this … ‘please listen to some kind of reasoning’, but they don’t … is a huge part of my make up … that churns in the depths of my gutt.

It’s why I Respond.

Rangitikei Enviromental Health Watch

Rocket_Lab_Launch_Complex_1_(Sept_2016) The new rocket launch-pad at Mahia NZ …  Photo Credit: Wikipedia

Rocket Lab is an American aerospace corporation launching out of New Zealand
SOURCE

Did you know that NZ now has a rocket base? This news seems to have flown under the radar for many. I only noticed it myself a month or so ago. The base is actually situated in Mahia on the East Coast of the North Island, however it was originally planned for the South Island at Kaitorete Spit near Christchurch, also near Birdling Flat and the Radar/Haarp Station there. The length of time obtaining consents appears to have been the deciding factor about a change in tack.  Rocket Lab noted one thing that prevented it from launching close to Christchurch which was the need for a cultural impact assessment from the council. A decision was made to locate the launch pad at Mahia instead. A cultural…

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mauri of me #17

slow and steady.

little by little

my view is changing

i know it is

i can feel it,

see it.

what i notice,

is the same,

but better.

who i notice,

is the same,

but different.

….

i knew i would

i could

just didn’t know

how, or when.

….

i’m a resourceful bish

like that.

Video

jokerman ~ bob dylan

Jokerman – Bob Dylan, 1983

From: Shit Got Real 1986

1976 was the year …

#responding

meptsdandallthefuckedupshitinbetween

small,

size

mind

hands,

size of a palm

legs,

length of an arm

climbing up

to get a seat

can’t reach the milk,

Grandad can pass

though

and pour

too

click clack

Nan’s heels

are too big

nevermind

pretend

a big girl,

a pretty dress

pretty shoes

smiles

at Grandad

smiles and sways

to Nan’s songs

very small

very large

innocence

and

purity

and

curiosity

what and where

to be

light and love

to be

grow

to laugh

to sing

darkness come

you

clammy hands

putrid stench

one flick your wrist

foul,

twisted

shreds life

wretched

you

tormented you

despising smallness

jealous

filthy disease

screaming fear

relish pain

sick

incurable

crush

cut

splay

you

no one will hear

filth

except

the bogey man

don’t

breath

speak

move

.

there is a separate god for children

~edited~

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Link

#orangetheworld #day13

I love seeing your little ‘painkills2’ avatar popping up when i peruse my old posts … I miss you.

meptsdandallthefuckedupshitinbetween

#orangetheworld to end #VAW and girls! #16DaysOfActivism #day13 “Alberta First Nation women hold rally after another sex assault charge laid against chief”

Source: #orangetheworld #day13

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