so … the hikoi is on …

Remember the father issues, the deletion and taking a trip with my Mama to find our tipuna?

Well, the day(s) have arrived.

Am I nervous?


Am I excited?


Do they both feel pretty much the fucking same?

Yes. Yes they do.

But I think I’m ready.

Wish Me luck ❤



photography ~ black and whites #119

#bnw #bnwmood #bnwlove #bnwfeels #bnwphotography #bnwmemories #bnwbeauty #mybeautifulnan #her #recipes #handwriting #love #gottokeepthe #goodmemories #macros #macroisms #photoblog #photograph #photo #photography #kpm ©


photography ~ black and whites #115

#bnw #bnwmood #bnwfeels #bnwlove #bnwphotography #mybackyard #mybeach #myview #mokos #mokolove #appreciating #lovinglife #photoblog #photograph #photo #photograhy #kpm ©


unfucking thyself 101.19




Homai to Aroha



Another ‘moko’ aka Grandbaby memory:

The Mokos (Grandchildren / Grandchild) Koro (Grandfather) (my partner) makes a cooked breakfast most mornings. Even though their parents would usually have given the mokos their usual breakfast / milk or whatever it was that was their norm; once ‘cooked breakfast’ arrived, each moko (except for 1 – Moko 3), would crawl up onto his lap whilst he was eating and starting poking around at his toast and baked beans, the sausages and bacon. He’s complain about them ‘eating all his breakfast’ and they’d sit happily on his lap eating away, till the plate was empty.

Mokos aged 9 and 8 still do they same thing, but without crawling up into his lap now. He’ll ask them if they want a cooked breakfast … they reply No … and then as he dishes up, they appear with: “Oh, Koro, can we have some baked beans …”, he rolls his eyes and dishes up extra plates of food.

What I really enjoyed this morning was the stories he told them of all the times they’d eaten up his breakfast, followed by the hysterical belly rolling laughter that followed. They sat and ate and laughed for nearly an hour.

I guess the important thing about growing up are the memories. For these darling Mokos, I really hope they embrace the memories and the laughter. Some of the most important things in this life.

#Photograph is a macro shot of of Moko 2 plate of baked beans and toast, and her hands. She can, of course feed herself now 🙂 She’s paused mid-mouthful, laughing at her Koro’s lame jokes ❤


for the ‘watchers’

Theres been plenty of shizz weighing on my person for the last little while … and I’m trying not to over dwell or over analyse … not 2 things I’m exceptionally good at I might add.

But over my morning coffee, I was watching these little critters.

Now without going into too much of a back story: a. these aren’t our kittens and b. they’re probably the equivalent to Jim’s ‘Wingless Dragons’ aka squirrels, as far a pests go.

But what I noticed about these little critters (and this 2 of 3), is the little one sitting down, kept falling asleep in this position and tilting sideways; then she’d wake up, have look around for her siblings and doze off again. She did this for over half an hour while her siblings played happily in the long grass.

It got Me thinking about the “Watchers”.

Those in the pack or the family, that do the watching and the protecting. Whether this role just fell on them because they were first out of the womb or whether it was part of their make up / character, I’m unsure.

But how many “Watchers” do you know? How many ‘watchers’ have I watched because I am a watcher too?

The “Watchers” tend to get overlooked, because they’re not cute and cuddly; they’re not playful or over friendly … they’re not particularly likeable.

Because they’re the ones doing the Watching.

So today I tilt my make believe glass to all the “Watchers” and protectors and guiders and alerters, who get overlooked and forgotten.

Here’s too Us!


it is what it is: fuck the Crown i say

Ok, so after such a lovely calm day yesterday (aka, calm before the storm!), I woke up to a fluster fuck this morning … thank fuck yesterday was calm ay!

This is going to be an un-editted rant / vent / whatever yah like to call it, and there is a point, but I’m not sure that it’ll be that clear at the outset … bare with Me … again 😉

To start:

My eldest moko plays the drums and he is freaking awesome!

We’ve had dramas with the school and his supposed ‘behavioural difficulties’ over the last year. In a nutshell though, they want him medicated (after the suspension routine failed), and his only ‘crime’ to warrant such a reaction:

Asking questions whilst being Brown.

It’s something we’ve fought and will continue to fight …. forever.

But now it’s a new generation and we’re having to teach them how to Be in a world that sees only skin colour whether they admit it or not. That fucks Me no end!

So, moko was supposed to be playing the drums for his end of year performance at school. My fuckery of course is getting there … as with anything. Suffice to say, I am Not there today and I want to be, but oh well, moving On.

The school moved the dates and times of this performance / school finale and his Mama and Papa were unable to take time off work; his Aunty was unable to attend; my partner is making a fast last minute dash to get there and record it … and my beautiful Mama took the bull by the horns and got there! She’s updating Me by text as I type and I am, of course, having Big old tears … not completely sad ones … just tears. I love my mokos more than life itself ❤

I sent their presents and cookies off with my partner so they’ll get those after as well.  I’m glad someone got to be there to see moko do his thing!! ❤

So, in amongst all that, I got a phone call from my daughter; she’s in tears, crying about how sucky being an adult is … and when I managed to tease out what was wrong, it turns out she has been trying to dispute a fine that was given to her a couple of years ago; sent to an address she hasn’t resided at for years and during that time it’s escalated from $60 to $180. She can’t pay it; they won’t let her off it and she believes it’s unfair.

Enter my notation and angst with this issue:

Starting way back when (1840ish), once the Crown had made their dubious arrangement with tangata whenua; set up their foreign laws and started changing them to assimilate and devastate Us. I won’t go into all those now … suffice to say, they engage in goal-post moving exercises, thereby changing the rules continuously so we are continuously on the back foot … and then fining the infringements as a revenue building scheme. They (the Crown) have done this for centuries throughout the colonies they’ve invaded and it’s a strategy that works effectively.

My conundrum is more basic:

To give my mokos a fighting chance, We are going to have to teach them how to live in duality earlier than I expected. And we need to teach them how to Know the rules to Break or Bend those rules, and to live free of those rules.

Here is my daughter / whom I taught about colonisation and the Treaty, when she was still in Primary school /, still struggling with the concept of Power over her life. She’s still struggling with the Crowns will versus Her will … she’s still struggling with how to live in both arenas.


Because we weren’t supposed too. No set of peoples were supposed to have dominion over another! Period. Not ever. Anywhere. Ever!!!

But we are an amazing peoples … and we have learnt how to live like / with /around our ‘oppressors’. My struggle though, which is what I hear in my daughters voice … Is the Why? And How is this even fair???

I know the answer:

It’s Not Fair. But short of a world-wide revolution, it is what it is at the moment and we need to learn to live within it or be stung and butt fucked continuously by it.

The video below is an old one. Mr Brownlee was / is a Crown representative at that time, with his Party being in power at the time; the arrogance that he exudes is A.Typical of this lot. And it has nothing to do with Left and Right Wings / Different Parties … this has to do with Power and Control by the Crown (government). It’s an arrogance shared by a shittonne of governments world wide.

The response to Mr Brownlee is given by Moana Jackson, an Indigenous Lawyer; a righteous, well spoken, softly spoken, well educated and self determined Maori man.

On the days, like today, when the Crown pisses Me off … when I’m wondering what the actual fuck we’re doing … and what the actual fuck life is going to be like for my mokos ….

I watch this clip: He restores my fight ❤


today was a good day :)

After feeling completely ‘ Meh ‘ most of the week, today was a pleasant relief. I managed to tidy up my house, like I like it … and rearrange abit … as I do.  I decided to keep once piece from the exhibition, not because I was emotionally attached to it, but because I Like It 🙂 Now thats a new thing for Me.  So I found him a new home on one of my walls.

I made some chocolate chip cookies for the moko midgets and didn’t eat all the cookie dough for a change, so there was plenty for their little personages 😉

I planted my broccoli / possibly cabbages … not sure what they are … and hopefully they’ll take to the soil and grow. Fingers crossed.

Oh and I forgot to say yesterday: Me and my beautiful Mama went and had a celebratory coffee at a Cafe yesterday! I know right! How did I forget to brag about that one!

I was hell’ah nervous before we left so Mama gave Me a cuddle and said I’d be alright … and I was! I so enjoyed it … so much so I didn’t even take photos!

Yah know what … It’s nice to feel Nice!

quick catch up … no coffee sorry

Thats only cos my coffee intake has been maxed today. Theres shit I keep forgetting to write about so to stop the spinning, here it is, all in one flash old bullet pointed mess 😉

  • anxiety levels been peaking for weeks now
  • kept at bay with small amounts of sedative / anti anxiety argh
  • but embracing it … it’s the only way to manage it at the moment
  • but it pisses me off … oh well
  • had a weekend with the mokos
  • that was completely gangstah ❤
  • love those little midgets
  • got the 2nd youngest coming on thursday for the night
  • yah!
  • did i tell yah, ACC upped my weekly payments?
  • that’s right, after nearly 5+ years of battling those bastards, here is my earth shattering increase:
  • I’ve gone from $35 per week to $45 to week.
  • I know …
  • how fucking awesome is that?
  • 10 whole dollars!
  • grrr
  • no back pay
  • no ‘sorry we fucked it up’
  • no.
  • yet another attempt to get what is owed, is scheduled for the 20th decemeber.
  • good lord.
  • that should take 1 to 2 years to sort through.
  • but hey, I don’t have anything to lose, and I be doing this shit on my terms now bitches!
  • trying to embrace this hormone thing; according to the professionals, I need more drugs … FFS
  • I remember when they were reluctant to hand out pills … Now? Pfft
  • it’s hot as fuck here
  • fans have been going all day
  • we had a pre-christmas house inspection
  • apparently we are the best tenants ever 😉
  • i only freaked out once and deep breaths seemed to soothe that one.
  • have i ever mentioned that anxiety and panic attacks are a pain in the ass??
  • well they are.

point of difference?

Me and the partner are like chalk and cheese … light and dark … sunshine and rain … black and white … up and down …

You get my drift ay.

And that’s not just in opinion or taste or dislikes or food … it’s in virtually everything. We have some common ground, but even there we tend to sit at completely different ends of that spectrum.

We’ve learnt a lot from each other as the years have transpired and tend to think of ourselves as a yin and yang rather than complete opposites. You can’t have a yin without a yang, if you get my meaning …

But sometimes … just sometimes …

I got rid of most of the time wasters and hanger-on-ers that milled around my existence, a very long time ago. When they do ring and want something my go-to is a big fat NO. My partner isn’t like that at all. I’ve learnt a bit of balance and perspective from him I guess, and won’t cut a niggah off as quick as I used too. However, I’m a perceptive wee thing and can usually tell when someone be yanking my chain. Thats a tool the partner doesn’t possess. Yet. He’s working on it, slowly … but pretty much, if someone asked for the shirt off’ve his back, he’d give it.

Now I don’t have a problem with that part of his character at all. It’s part of the reason I love him. But …

Yes there’s a But …

When said chain yanker already has a custom-made shirt from Italy on, and they’re asking for his because they left their other handmade shirt from France, at home, and they’re sweaty and uncomfortable … and my partners shirt looks more comfy …

Then I have a problem with him giving the shirt off his back and I also have a problem with the Italian / French shirt wearing douchebag.

But he is surrounded by them. Literally. Nearly every person he knows is to one degree or another, like this.

I know this because I’ve witnessed it, obviously … but even more annoying is this:

The partner has had a back injury for nearly 10 years. He injured it on the job and hasn’t worked full-time since then. Now this kills him. He’s a worker. He loves doing physical stuff and he’s damn good at it. So to lose the ability to do this has messed with him mentally and physically. Now he can’t sit without cringing in pain.

And then there’s the chain yanking tossers …

They’ll ring … ‘hey bro, can you give us a hand to build … construct … move … hey bro, can we borrow some money … hey bro can you look after our kids … hey bro … you’re not doing anything, can you pick us up … drop us off …’

On and on it goes. And they have no fucking shame either! They don’t think … Ahhh this man is injured, maybe we should ask someone else … Or, ahh this man is injured, how about We help him out!!

It pisses Me no end.

Theres no telling him though and the extent of my lectures now only involve a mild … ‘oh well …’, when he complains about his back hurting because he’s helped a ‘friend’ move house.

I also don’t concede anymore. Meaning, when I ask for a hand and he complains, I remind him that he can do way more for every other cunt so he can do it for the cunt that has put up with his bullshit for the last god knows how long.

He gets my point.

But sometimes, just sometimes …

I think there’s going to come a day when I make a little Facebook post, so they can all see it, and it’ll read a little something like this:

“Hey … all you fuckers that have bled [partner] dry … have rung in the middle of the night for a drunken pity party … have borrowed our last dollar … have promised to be here, but don’t ever come … have suggested [partner] needs to get over it and get a job … that we have it easy … that have asked for everything and given nothing … Yes, you lot … Don’t bother ringing here … I’ll hang up on your bludging assess … Don’t bother borrowing money … I will come and get it back, with fucking interest … In fact, fuck off completely.” Kindest fucking regards from the Missus!

update from the exhibition:

I haven’t been able to get my body round my head space, or vice versa, and do a decent update on the Exhibition Opening on Saturday just gone.

Suffice to say it was fucking awesome and I was gangstah lol.

Thats it in a nutshell.

I was so nervous in the morning and ended up dropping a quarter sedative to take the edge off … I had tears and more tears … and I was excited. It made for a whole heap of discomfort for someone not used to a single emotion, let alone a few at a time. Fucken hell … I am learning though! My Need to go pretty much outweighed my Fear.  Couple that with the Need to do the big “Fuck You” salute to my father. Yep, that spurred Me on no end 😉

We got there and I was sweating like a rapist and had to change my t.shirt lol … sweaty wasn’t exactly the ‘look’ I was after. Nervously fucked, Yes … Sweaty rapist, No.

I had invited all my beautiful family so they could support Me. They were pre-warned of what a panic attack looked like and what to do if anything un-toward should happen. And they were gangstah ❤ They took such good care of Me … and pretty much followed my lead … which meant they were everywhere and nowhere all at once lol. But they did it … and it meant the world to Me that they did it for Me.

I had moments, but not too many. When it felt to bright, I moved. When it got to loud, I moved. I held my daughters hand when I felt scared in the crowd. I found my Mamas shoulder to hold on to, when I felt uncertain. I caught my partners eye when I needed backup. My big girl made sure we were fed and took photos of everything … because I completely forgot about that – hence the lack of photos here.

All in all it was fan-fucking-tastic!! I feel like I achieved the one something that I really needed to this year. It’s made Me more determined to focus on what I need slash want to do next year. And I’m actually looking forward to it.

Over the next few weeks I’ll drip feed the exhibition photos as I get them from my daughter and what I can scavenge up from what we took. Funny thing – as excited as everyone was to see my art up on massive white walls, I was just stoked to have gotten there. And to have enjoyed it!! So much so we ended up being pretty much the last ones to leave lol. Decided I’m going to take all of them to everything I need to go to from now on 😉

Oh … and I bought Me a coffee 🙂 Bonus!