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mauri of me #52 ~ recap and finale.

Little sad to see the end of this segment. But pleased I’ve learnt some shit … now it’ll be practicing the art of ‘remembering’ this shit 😉

I’ve learnt:

  • It’s Ok; actually it’s more than Ok, to be different.

‘The Same’ is boring and stale. Imagine if we all were the same … Not Cool! And what a bland looking beige world it would be. We need, or more specifically, I Need, the fringes … the outside; the peripheral; the unfocussed and the unique. I absolutely need it and absolutely love it.

Not just the minimalist thing and not just cos I like simplicity … but because uncomplicated is where most of my learning and absorbing takes place. We make everything so complicated … yet the view of a child usually has more clarity than some puffed up old scientist.

  • Change can be scary – but it’s necessary.

Change, for Me, has always meant ‘erratic’ and unpredictable. And I guess to a certain degree there is an element of that. But change, I have learnt, is also a necessary part of life. It doesn’t have to unpredictable. Like nature, it has it’s ebbs and flows, and while theres variations in those, they are predictable. And if I’m taking notice, they’re actually quite beautiful.

So, there you have it.

All the Mauri of Me that I have at the moment.

Again, thankyou one and all for every little bit of feedback and conversation; every encouragement : like, comment and smiley face, that y’all have given over the last year.

I appreciate it all.

Thanks for helping Me Grow 🙂

 

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mauri of me #51 ~ recapping #3

I’m going to re-cap 2 on my list: Honesty & Clarity. Cos for Me, the first brings the second.

I’m possibly the most honest person I know: But in saying that, My version of honesty seems to differ from Others … and thats been a learning process in and of itself.

I guess the more generalised version of Honesty I’m getting at here, is the shit we Note about ourselves. And that seems to be a lifetimes worth of working out. I used to think that We should be sifting and getting rid of shit as fast as we could shovel; not realising that we all shovel as different paces … and not all of Us were given the same size shovel!

Anywho:

Honesty:

My bullshit-o-meter is pretty finely tuned. I guess I can thank family dysfunction, sexual assault and a cunt of world for that one … or maybe my tipuna … some of whom, also possessed this insightful gift 😉

My type of honesty is rooted in analysing the shit out of something, my way. Sometimes it takes days, weeks, months … but by fuck I’ll get clarity if its the last thing i do. And by analysis, I don’t mean the Western version of it (oh, but I do do that well too 😉 … I mean, flipping it, looking at it, feeling it (my way) … un-doing it, recycling it, re building it, simplifying it … trusting the gutt – all literally and figuratively.

Out of all of my processes and ‘doing Me’, I find clarity. Out of clarity, I usually find some peace.

And isn’t that all any of Us are really looking for at the end of the day?

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mauri of me #50 ~ recapping #2

“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 ❤

“Thou Shalt Not Concede”

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mauri of me #49 ~ recapping #1

It occurred to Me the other day, theres only like, a few more weeks of my “mauri of me” section, if I’ve actually added shizz up correctly … I have been known to miscount shit … many many times … numbers are not my strong point 😉

So … over the next couple of weeks I’m going to recap sections of what I’ve been over throughout the year … theres quite a few 😉

As a reminder though – This is what this section was designed for:

I realised part way through last year, that I don’t really understand the strength in Me, that has gotten Me this far. Oh, I get it; in increments … but I don’t really, really GET IT. And I think that if I got it, then I wouldn’t give myself such a hard time. The love, acceptance and encouragement that I have pumped into my kids and mokos over the years … yeah, well some of that needs to be pumped into Me.

So, this “who I really Am” thing; this essence thing … is called “Mauri”:

mauri
1. (noun) life principle, vital essence, special nature, a material symbol of a life principle, source of emotions – the essential quality and vitality of a being or entity. 

It is my hope, my attempt; that as I unfold and inspect who I am; my Mauri; I will be able to reconcile this element of Me.

What I’ve noticed is that a few distinct themes or ‘strains’ of being have presented themselves throughout this segment; those strains being the things that really are my ‘essence’ or character … the things that make Me, Me 😉

  1. Family – Whanau

These peeps mean more to Me than I can express at times, especially the mokos. But for Me, those that have left this physical world, still play a huge role in my life. I don’t look at them as not being around, even though I know they physically aren’t. In my world, they’ll always be here … always be a part of Me.

2. Resistance

I have a huge aversion to bullshit and I call it as I see it … it doesn’t make Me completely right, but seldom wrong 😉

3. Honesty

Go’s hand in hand with the aversion to bullshit I guess … but my brand of honesty, I have discovered, is a rare thing. It’s the type of honesty that says what it means, at home and outside of home.

4. Clarity

Theres a process that happens when clarity is being sought, but like a dog with a bone, by fuck I’ll find it. And once found I can peel back the layers and get to the fucking point of it all 😉

5. Script flipper

This is all about changing the narrative; learning and growing. This is the thing thats changing my perspective on pts(d) and learning to live ‘with’ it.

So …

Whanau:

My fams are my roots; living and dead, they ‘make’ Me what I am – the structure of what I am: the good and the bad.

My grandparents have been like my parents really, and I am forever grateful for my Grandad and Grandmother for loving Me like only Grandparents can. Even when my biological father was ‘unavailable’, they were always there … always loving Me.

My Mama … ahhh my beautiful Mama … I can appreciate all that she is now and I am eternally grateful for all the She is. She’s taught Me perseverance and fortitude … response and strength. I love her like No other ❤

My beautiful girls … well they are truly amazing creatures … You know when you’ve done something 100% right? Well this is them … warts and all, they absolutely perfect!

My brother … well, he is something amazing alright … hugely talented and a tower of inspiration. I don’t know any other man that is quite as profound as he is … and I love him to bits!

Then theres my beautiful mokos, One, Two, Three and Four … and of course our latest edition … Number 5 🙂 Grandbabies do something quite special to your world; they change the perspective on everything. There is No amount of love that can describe these gorgeous little individuals ❤

And then theres my partner … holy shit balls … we’ve had some rough years broken up with some good times … it feels like the rough is finally paying off and we’re seeing or appreciating something different in our relationship. He still has the ability to fuck Me off like No other … but he also has the ability to understand Me like No other … when he’s not being a douche of course 😉 Yeah, I love him 😉

I guess families … no matter how they look … have the ability to make and break Us. For Me, there had been so much crap to wade through with the sexual assault, that I had missed the good memories … I hadn’t completely appreciated each individual and their worth … the things that they do to make up my feng shui in a good way.

This year I’ve been able to see those things … appreciate those things and learn to love, even the things, that fuck Me off (or past tense: have fucked Me off), about those people. Even the old father … if nothing else, I am grateful for the swimmers he produced that help create Me 😉

I love my family (except my father … I have an appreciation of his input, but thats it 😉 ) and all that they are. I’m appreciate their patience Of Me; their learning of who I am and their Love of Me being Me ❤

the fam mess ❤

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mauri of me #48 ~ new growth

Similar to rewriting the narrative,

New growth comes … eventually.

It starts small … just a seed.

And given the right circumstances,

It grows …

And the possibilities

from here on out …

are endless.

#photography

My seedlings are growing 🙂

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mauri of me #47 ~ suppression and rongoa

The Tohunga Suppression Act 1907,

was suppression of the filthiest.

We were dying in the thousands.

Not of natural causes,

but of their diseases,

that we were not immune too.

And then they outlawed our right to practice

our own medicine.

Colonised and assimilated.

Sick and dying,

believing we were in need of their help.

Their god.

not much has changed.

Except:

Our return to our rongoa.

Our return to our methods of healing.

Our methods of restoration.

Tehei mauri ora ❤

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mauri of me #46 ~ dark, rainy days

my favourite days

are dark.

not the morose

dark:

although i do find comfort

in those –

but the cloud

and rain, darkness.

for me, everything about

the dark:

brings calm.

to my mind; to my body.

i find beauty and peace

in it.

i find cleansing,

and refreshing.

there are no ups and downs.

no high highs, or low lows.

it’s just quiet.

just plain.

just grey.

just dark.

it’s like neutrality,

but beautiful.

but an understated, natural

beauty.

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mauri of me #45 ~ bumble bees

did i tell yah

i love

the humble

bumble bee?

well, i do.

wanna know why?

according to some

old

scientific dude,

these little creatures,

shouldn’t be able to fly.

technically,

their little fat

fuzzy bodies,

should be to heavy

for their

petite little

wings.

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,

anyways.

so why do i

like ’em so much?

because they defy

the odds.

they defy the

stats.

they are what

they are,

no matter what

any cunt decides

they should be(e).

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mauri of me #44 ~ abstract painting

I’ve eluded to this quite a few times throughout these Mauri posts: that my ‘view’ on things (life, experiences, pts(d)), kind of come with a macro view.

I can flip shit so many times, and look at it from a thousand sides and a thousand perspectives.

But my goal in doing so, is to get to the gutts of something.

I can smell an intention a mile off – I’m not so good with lame ass hints – but I know theres an intention lurking as soon as someone presents a point of view. My mission is to flesh that intention out.

I guess this process has helped Me to survive.

When it comes to my painting, the whole process is Me finding my intention. Me finding and expressing my voice and my view point.

I find relief in it.

The macro-i-sation of it, helps Me to See whats happening instead of just feeling it.


Description:

The first 4 photographs are extreme close up views of a piece of art I created for our recent exhibition. Although each one is slightly different, they are of dark maroony brown colour on stretched canvas. Over top of this base colour there is a large white smudgey painted curved line. It sort of looks like a wave and is supposed to represent ‘mauri’: the essence of something / living things.

The next 2 photographs are again extreme close ups of another piece down for this exhibition. The back or base colour of this painting on canvas, is black and has smaller white drips / lines of paint on it. This painting was to represent Rarohenga: the netherworld or underworld.

The seventh photograph is another extreme close up from the same series of paintings. This one is done on a round canvas with its base colour being black and darker purples, blues and green woven into it. On top of that are white, greeny blue, blue and purple drips, squiggles and lines. Some of the paint is acrylic and some is water colour which give the overall feel of the painting a multi layered feel. Well that was the intention anyway. This one represents Tawhirirangi: the spirit energy of sweeping rains.

The final photograph is an extreme close up of a boxed sculpture for this series of art works. Inside the white framed box (sort of like a shadow box), is a small slab of curved concrete and a tall glass bottle of water. The slab is at the bottom and the glass bottle, laid horizontally, is at the top. Both items are screwed into place in the box with wide strips of thin metal, giving the whole thing an industrial sort of feel. This extreme close up is of the concrete slab and the metal strip that runs across it. This one represents Te Ihorangi: the spirit energy of rain and clouds.

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mauri of me #43 ~ the label, ‘mentally ill’

This started as a long ass post … but honestly I can’t be bothered rambling on, let alone making it painful for someone else to read lol. This is a subject I approach with little reverence and question unmerciful-lessly.

I’ve decided that some of it is a ‘cultural’ thing; well perceived from a monocultural perspective. Like a shit tonne of other stuff really.

In our old language, the closest thing to being ‘mentally ill’, was ‘porangi’. We’ve white-ed it up since then and given the title a maori name. But in all reality, we didn’t have a word for being mentally ill.

The word Porangi was a verb, and meant “to search for, seek.”

And when someone was in a state of ‘searching and seeking’, they were cared for by those that loved them. This would take as long as it took. Period.

Today we have a shit tonne of titles, like borderline personality disorder, like pts(d), like depression … and they all have levels. The answer for any of these?

Medication. Talking.

Does the medication work? I think it’s designed to ‘normalise’ Us. But again, I ask, who decides what Normal is? Is normal more about being a contributing, tax paying member of society? Or appearances? Or Both.

Because it sure as shit aint about what is best for Us.

I think diagnoses and labels are developed to silence and produce a paying customer.

Slap a label on that bitch. Medicate that bitch. Silence that bitch.

Is any of this really helpful?

In my 40 odd years, I think I may have met (in person) a couple (meaning TWO) of people that this system has worked for. But I’ve met a shit tonne more, that have been ‘searching’ and have ‘come right’ with nothing but love, rest, understanding and time.

To sum up – fuck mental health; fuck diagnoses; fuck professionals who think they’re helping and they’re not; fuck medication; fuck misunderstanding.

Fuck it all.

(Yes, it’s one of Those days 😉 )