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 😉










mauri of me #38 ~ my music

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 ❤

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 ❤




mauri of me #37 ~ bullshit-o-meter

I’ve been plodding around my ‘mauri of me’ segment, (much like the rest of my life at the moment) pretty much detailing the stuff that is ‘Me’, is my essence; but is also pretty meh. If you get my drift. Yes, its all helped Me to remember and understand who I Am; but not really getting to the nitty gritty – the deep and dark stuff. Well that shit, in my world, is called avoidance and minimization.

I was unceremoniously reminded of that tonight whilst reading a friends blog. And it kind of slapped Me in the face, and it still smarts lol.

I’ve been avoiding lots. I know … my average ‘written’ post doesn’t really allude to this fact. My ‘average’ is slightly darker and deeper than most … but it in all truth, it’s surface crap.

I’ve enjoyed wading around in the shallow water of avoidance. I think we all need to take a dip in there sometimes. Helps to ease the tension.

But that isn’t really my area of expertise.

My bullshit-o-meter has always been set to ultra sensitive. And whilst it’s been jumping all over the place lately, I was assuming it was because of the issues with my father etc.

I forgot about Me.

It’s always about Me.

You see, when I avoid shit, I run into trouble. The issues with my father, are to some degree, of my own making. I told myself I was being patient with him … understanding … working through things. And all the while, my bullshit-o-meter was pinging off the charts.

I listened to those around Me that said ‘he’s old’, ‘he’s set in his ways’, ‘he’s grieving’, ‘he’s your father’ … because while they were right to some degree, they couldn’t see what I could see. Which was a big old neon signing screaming “Bullshit … come get your dose of Bullshit”.

I thought some how, that I could lure him out of his own bullshit but instead I muddied up my own waters.

So here I am, wondering if I should reset my meterage or take actual notice of it.

It’s still pinging.

It notes that I have invested too much time in a man who Lies as ‘go too’ response. It also notes that it is set to ‘high’ because there has been a need for it, and although I had come to terms with a certain amount of past bullshit, I shouldn’t set the volume on low just yet. It also notes, that bullshit is bullshit no matter whose mouth its dribbling out of.

With that noted, here’s my point.

I lost touch with my ‘bullshit’ receptors. And whilst getting all touchy and feely about things is cool, and necessary to a certain degree – my receptors are set the way they for a dam good reason.

To protect Me.

As I reconcile, I am able to deal with things differently. There is no need to hide under the covers anymore; or freeze and play dead. No, I am quite able to respond in another form – violently or non violently.

But to remove the alarm bells is stupid.

Lesson learnt.



mauri of me #36 ~ chuckies

Although these are not exactly a deep and meaningful characteristic of Me: they are still part of Me.

My affiliation with the legendary Chuck Taylor was formed way way back in the 80s.

The 80s, for Me, was about the dreaded secondary school education – or lack thereof – but more importantly it was about dance and music. The Movies ‘Beat Street’ and ‘Breakdance’ came out in 1984 and influenced this era and those drawn to ‘alternative’ ways of being.

Although the Nike Hi Tops dominated both of those movies, the Chuck Taylor made some memorable appearances.

Thus was borne my love of the Chuck.

Alas, I couldn’t afford Chucks in my youth and actually finding any in good old NZ, was nigh impossible.

Enter my 30s, and I could not only afford them … but was actually able to find them 🙂 And buy them, I did!

I remember my first pair, which were bought at the Otara Markets. They were a greyish blue colour and became my ‘lucky chucks’. I wore those bastards every – where, and I mean everywhere!

The thing I love about them, is they’re kind of like being in bare feet, but Not. Strange I know.

Since then, I have lost count of the amount of Chuck Taylors I’ve brought and worn out. I’ve had most colours but still love the classic black & whites.

The Chuck Taylor tradition has been passed onto my mokos, and they’re all little Chuck fiends now – Very proud Nanny moment lol.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever ‘out grow’ the Chuck. Ever.

At last count, I only have 4 pairs in the wardrobe.

The classic black & whites. Straight black. Green and white. And red and white.

More than anything though, I think it’s the fond memories of an era -of the music and style – that keeps Me going back for more of them.

“Long Live The Chuck Taylor”








mauri of me #35 ~ the fringes

Ever wondered what it’s like to be, on the outside, looking in?

Ever wondered what it’s like to be, on the inside, looking out?

Ever wondered what is like to be, a square peg, in a round hole?

Ever wondered what it’s like to be, something different, other than different?

Ever wondered what it’s like, to not fit, into anything?

It’s peaceful. That’s what it’s like. If you were wondering.




mauri of me #34 ~ family is:

Where we gather,


Where we know we,

know each other.

Family is what we do,

not just what we are.

It’s something we


We remember.

We tell stories.

We question.

We ask.

We create.

We laugh.

We cry.

We seek.

And when we gather,

it’s not just physically.

We can be miles apart,

and still gather.

Because we are each other.

And each other, we are.

From each other.

And too each other.

We are for each other,

and all things

for each other.

Thats what family does.

Family is more than

a word.

More than just


Family is everything.

Family isn’t just blood.

But family is bonded.

Family is all there is.





mauri of me #33 ~ simplicity

Seemed like a timely reminder of just how simply and beautifully … and accurately – children see things.

You know … hate is a learned thing.


mauri of me #32 ~ he kākano āhau

He Kākano Āhau (Born Of Greatness) ~ Hohepa Tamehana, 2001



He kākano āhau

I ruia mai i Rangiātea

And I can never be lost

I am a seed, born of greatness

Descended from a line of chiefs,

He kākano āhau

Ki hea rā āu e hītekiteki ana

Ka mau tonu i āhau ōku tikanga

Tōku reo, tōku oho-oho,

Tōku reo, tōku māpihi maurea

Tōku whakakai marihi

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

Ka tū ana āhau,

Ka ūhia au e ōku tipuna

My pride I will show

That you may know who I am

I am a warrior, a survivor

He mōrehu āhau.

Ki hea rā āu e hītekiteki ana

Ka mau tonu i āhau ōku tikanga

Tōku reo, tōku oho-oho,

Tōku reo, tōku māpihi maurea

Tōku whakakai marihi

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.



I am a seed

Scattered from Rangiatea

And I can never be lost

I am a seed, born of greatness

Descended from a line of chiefs,

I am a seed.

Wherever I may roam

I will hold fast to my traditions.

My language is my cherished possession

My language is the object of my affection

My precious adornment

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.

Whenever I stand,

I am clothed by my ancestors

My pride I will show

That you may know who I am

I am a warrior, a survivor

I am a remnant

Wherever I may roam

I will hild fast to my traditions.

My language is my cherished possession

My language is the object of my affection

My precious adornment

My language is my strength,

An ornament of grace.