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.


My seedlings are growing 🙂


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.


Our return to our rongoa.

Our return to our methods of healing.

Our methods of restoration.

Tehei mauri ora ❤


mauri of me #46 ~ dark, rainy days

my favourite days

are dark.

not the morose


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





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


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 defy the


they are what

they are,

no matter what

any cunt decides

they should be(e).



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.


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.





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 😉 )


mauri of me #42 ~ building shit

I have a love of deconstructing shit and reconstructing shit 😉 Not literal shit, but stuff. I deconstructed a washing machine once. One of those kick ass german ones; they’re made to last and constructed amazingly – believe Me; they’re not so easy to tear too bits 😉

And out of that washing machine, so far, I’ve made a brazier and a BBQ and theres a planter in the making. All the little bits and pieces that have come out of it, like bolts and screws etc; I’ve re-used most of those too.

And this is pretty much how I see the world. If it doesn’t work, get rid of it – or strip it down and re-use or re-cycle it. Remake it so it useable again – For Me 😉

Then there’s the building or reconstructing stuff.

I think I love it because its creating something – something useful. And like my love for all things ‘concrete’ – building, or reconstructing, reminds Me of my Grandfather.

I’ve talked about him a lot through my Blog. He is – was – the love of my life. One of the only good men I’ve known. And I used to trundle along to work with him all the time, when I was little.

In the post-war era, when they came back (if they came back), they were offered land or a trade. It makes Me forever proud that my Grandfather took the Trade option, instead of the (stolen) Land option. So, he became a builder.

Some of my bestest memories are watching – listening too – smelling – all things, construction. And maybe I love it because it was pleasant on all my senses – because I am a sensitive wee soul 😉

So when I am unsure of ‘what to do’, I build shit.

One day, I’d like to build a house. Think I might need a bit more practice before that happens though 😉

I guess all ‘creatives’ or artists, find their niche or explanations, in creativity. And like my art, building shit, does something for Me that analysing and thinking can’t do. It’s not even that I’m particularly good at it, or that what I build or create is any good – but it does make Me smile. The entire process makes me happy. And that’s all that matters right 😉




mauri of me #41 ~ nothingness

some days, weeks, months;

there are



i’m learning that,

that –

is ok too.

mauri of me #40 ~ just a tad sarcastic

some tosser said that

sarcasm was the lowest form of witt.

that idiot obviously doesn’t realise,

that sarcasm aint witt.

it’s a




mauri of me #39 ~ the process of “vinyling”

Playing records,

aka vinyling.

I Love It 🙂

My first piece of vinyl was Whitney Houston’s first album.

After that, I collected what I liked, and what I could find.

When vinyl became ‘obsolete’,

finding something I liked was always a ‘score’.

I didn’t find out vinyl hadn’t actually become obsolete,

until the 90s.

Because in the 90s

came an amazing wave of underground hip hop,

and a revitalisation of the turntable


Now the avid vinyl dj buff,

will tell yah, that vinyling never went anywhere.

It was always there.

As was the vinyl.

But once it hit semi mainstream,


the rest is history.

The record industry pumped out the latest stuff

and djs mixed it.

But to buy one of these pieces,

was way more expensive than it used to be.

Your average album

was around the $50 mark.

Your average 12′,

was around the $25 mark.

The albums with more than 2 pieces in them,

like a compilation from the artist;

a cool $60 plus.

Which is why the op shop finds for the old school

were hell’ah important.

Finding an old school vinyl in mint condition –

even more of bonus!

A ‘lets have a whiskey’ type bonus 😉