is the current status.

not a favourite thing of mine; of anyones really, if i had to think hard about it. but when one is feeling vulnerable, what do they do?

my old go-to, is numb.

numb can come in a variety of packages, usually labelled “don’t take with alcohol” … but when you’re trying to be more than just numb, ‘feeling that shit’ takes a bit of getting used too.

i’m trying to breathe deep. i’m listening & semi-watching d’angelo’s 2015 live jazz festival routine. it’s all kinda working … but not as fast as drugs do.

why the vulnerability?

we went and viewed a house this morning. it’s lovely. and now i’m waiting to see whether we apply for it or not.

what’s the problem?

simplified: it’s not my decision.

which, in a nut-shell, means i am hanging around waiting for someone else to decide my ‘fate’, again.

this is not a new phenomenon. it’s my life post diagnosis & post losing my income. technically speaking, i should be homeless. but i have a partner. a partner who has an income. which, is more than some people have.

but i don’t have any say in the finances, which is new for me. i also don’t spend any money. other than my breakfast cereal and tampons, i don’t ask for anything else. maybe its pride, maybe its cos i don’t want to be a burden, maybe its because i can’t stretch my brain that far. whatever it is, this is the way it is.

so when we have big ‘changes’ come up, i feel like i am sitting in a small dingy with no available oars, waiting for the ‘oar – owner’ to put the dam things in the water and paddle.

i can advise. i can suggest. i can even scream. but at the end of the day, they’re not my oars, i am a ‘guest’ in the dingy & where the fuck else am i supposed to go?

this is why i’ve been pushing so hard (well sort of) to get my pending income sorted. again, its up to someone else.

i’ve learnt over the years that just because someone else has seeming control of my environment, does not mean they have complete control over me. i could decide to be homeless. huh.  that has a nice ring to it ay : homeless by choice!

but instead i remain here, trying to cohabitate with someone who has completely different ideas and ways of being than i do. someone who has resources at their disposal and chooses to do some pretty outrageous shit with said resources.

anyway, i don’t like feeling vulnerable & i’m going to have to work on my state of mind before it eats me up. for now though …

well, for now, i wait.

photography & art @kpm-artist 



so, i thought i did well …

it’s been a week since the exhibition opening & other than the photos from the night, i haven’t really given a blow by blow update. my last post was re: my nerves and the countdown to the night and the blessing that was the rain … and i kinda left it there.


cos its taken most of the week to recover from said events; and it’s taken nearly all week to really process the events.

i got to the exhibition earlier than i needed to – which for me, is a first in a long while. i’ve tended to be bang on time, so i don’t have to wait, or late, so i don’t have to wait. but on the night of the event, it started raining which a. calmed my fuckery right down and b. then i was able to actually look forward to it.

i had prepared for this virtually all year. i wasn’t nervous about exhibiting; was a tad nervous about the people; wasn’t nervous about the venue because i had already seen it when we did the installation. i made sure i was comfortable and wearing an all black ensemble ;) my go-to comfort attire lol. oh, and sneakers of course!

i had my bag of tricks & my ear plugs on the ready. i’d taken a small amount of anti anxiety drugs, but not much considering what i was in for.

when the event actually started and the opening speeches etc were being made, i had a moment where i realised i was standing in the middle of a crowd of about 60-80 people. i felt a pang of anxiousness and then a profound sense of pride i think it was. not because of the exhibition or my art that i could see hanging to the side of me, but because i was ‘here’ … standing … breathing … and being part of something larger than just me & my home & my nerves & my fears.

it brought a little tear to me eye ;)

after all the formalities were done i … wait for it … mingled!! oh yeah … i did LOL!

not sure that i did it very well, but i did it. i was proud of my work as in my art work, but more prouder that i was there! i had a couple people ask me what i had done because i ‘looked well’ … i brushed it off with a ‘thankyou … its the lighting’ lol and a bit of a laugh … but really, i knew it was a years worth of preparing and breathing and freaking out and calming down and breathing some more … i paid for that moment all year … and it was fucking worth it!!!

i took my family though the gallery to view my work and they were as proud as i was. the people that i had collaborated with, were just as proud of me as i was of them.  the group i make art with are all extremely strong women, who have lived hard lives and are all trying to make something better out of their situations. like me. and i love that.

another moment i had was learning that one of my pieces was exhibited in the same building, and just around the corner, from 2 famous maori artists i absolutely admire and adore – Ralph Hotere & Robyn Kahukiwa. Now how absolutely gangstah is that! thats a once in a lifetime experience for me :)

the next biggest moment, was learning that my mothers and brothers art work will both be in the same space next week. i knew they had exhibitions on too, but we hadn’t realised we would all be in the same place at the same time! now how cool is that!!! that is also a once in a lifetime experience for me! that my entire little fams will be exhibiting in the same gallery at the same time … ay, and along side 2 famous artists ;)

anyway … i stayed for 2 1/2 hours. and when we left we drove through town.

i felt overwhelmed, tired, excited, accomplished, relieved and proud, all at the same time.

it was well worth the anxiety and planning and re-planning and sickness and panic attacks even lol.

i’d like to say thankyou to my blogging family, for all your support and encouragement! all the little words of support were awesome and i couldn’t have been there enjoying my moment without the love y’all showed moi.

i appreciate you all immensely xxxx

so, that was me.

that was me & my event.

that was me & my achievements.

that was me & my hard work.


this is the piece that hangs around the corner from Ralph & Robyn ;)

it reads:

on the insides bruh,

we screamed
on the outsides bruh,
we had shit to do
fucking shit to do
shit we did with
grace and finesse
and now bruh,
the inadequacies
yah perpetrated
is the fluid
that fuels
our rage
keeps us screaming bruh
check your fucking self
keep your fists on the grind
your dick in yo pants
your mana intact

photography & art @kpm-artist 


pts(d), on a budget.

an open letter to Me: backdated 8ish years –

dear me: you are going to have to do pts(d) on a very fucking tight budget aight. but we got this!

wtf? i hear you say.

let me explain.

yes: you should be able to have this ‘mental illness’ & the resources to access a wide range of research, opinions, trials, medication, tips, adjustments, care, counselling, psychologists, physical health check ups etc etc. it ‘should’ be a. easy to find and b. free or low cost.

but it won’t be.

and this is tip number 1:

expect absolutely nothing for free, including advise, from any healthcare provider, post-diagnosis.

which runs into tip number 2:

expect absolutely nothing that will ‘benefit’ your long term self-management.

once you fully understand the following statement, it’ll make your future ‘shopping’ for pts(d) care, a lot simpler.

the idea is to make you dependent, and broke. the idea is Not to assist in making you well.

got that?


so, after the diagnosis is done and you’re floundering around wondering “what the actual fuck dude … does this mean i’m nuts or what?”; the simple answer is, Yes.

but as you try to get some assistance with understanding what the fuck has just transpired, you will be met with lengthy phone calls, meetings that aren’t available for months, people that aren’t ‘qualified’ but still charge a surcharge for consultation, professionals who have waiting lists but are able to ‘fit you in’ if you are willing to pay the ‘full-price’ (and fyi: this is where you will learn there are ‘scales’ of prices … IKR!) … you’ll also get met with paper work for days and prescriptions to ‘trial’ ‘for free’, but you still won’t get a straight answer to the question: “what does it mean … i have pts(d)?”

the simple solution to all this fuckery, is cheap.

you need to google it.

research it online – @ the library (free); @ a friends house … use the free Wifi @ your local supermarket … whatever it takes. and keep googling until you have a tonne of ‘advice’ you can feel semi-satisfied with.

take that shit home and sift through it. fyi … it’ll take ages, but thats ok.

don’t make appointments, take the drugs, give up the food or the alcohol or anything else, until you’ve done the research and understand what the fuck is going on.

as over simplified as that may sound, just know, that you will spend in excess of 5 years waiting for said diagnosis, trialing medications and waiting for explanations all because you had no fucking google.

Just Saying.

next: once you have a clear understanding of what you are dealing with, know that this is going to change. thats right. it’ll change. so expect no continuity or structure. you can burn that shit with the pts(d) manual you downloaded.

i’m saying this now, because if you drop the expectations for ‘recovery’ you have nothing to live up to and you have solved half if not 3/4 of your fucking ‘issue’. you’ve also weeded out the need for lengthy and costly therapy sessions and psychologist sessions. just roll with it. all of it. it’s a hell ride, but you been there and done that before, & this is a piece of piss in comparison …

next: beg, borrow or steal access to a computer and / or phone and an internet connection & you can access self help blog sites, reading material of people that have utilised nature, animals, friends etc to help them self manage. try it all. read it all. find what works for you.

next: sit in the sun. sleep in the sun. block your ears, cover your eyes and soak up the warmth. no sun? find your happiest spot with your warmest blanket and do the same. & music; lots & lots of music. when the wifi runs out ..  sing :) or just hum. as weird as that sounds and as freaked out as you might be @ first, the objective isn’t to join the local fucking choir … the objective is to a. give yourself a voice, b. change the vibration in your body and c. soothe yah.

next: nightmares, flashbacks, smells, sounds … all bitches.

take the sleep drugs. you need to sleep, relax & catchup on sleeping & relaxing. the objective here is to find your new normal. what you can live with and what you can’t. you can’t do that stressing about fitting back into a ‘norm’ that doesn’t work for you.

& last but not least: you will wait for over 8 years for an income & during that time you won’t buy clothes or food or go shopping or compare internet prices. you won’t write a wishlist for christmas or birthdays or go out for coffee or dinner. you will lose your triple A credit rating and all your financial ‘vices’; your perceived independence will go up in flames as will your access to perceived freedoms.

but guess what. you won’t need any of that because your going to fucked to care.

this is the beginning of the end for you.

this is where we find out what the fuck you are really made of.

because you will eventually see that all the shit you thought was important, isn’t. all the shit that you thought you needed, you didn’t. all the shit you thought you couldn’t live without, including your ‘independence’ & ‘freedom’, you can. you’ll learn that money, like a career, is nothing but numbers & paper & won’t buy you family or time. you’ll learn a house is nothing more than space with walls & is serving you well if it keeps you dry & warm. you’ll learn that your voice is louder than you thought & scarier than you thought; that it’s fierce & fiery as well as dark & deep as well as low & loving. you’ll learn that pts(d) is nothing but letters & you were what you were long before some cunt strung those letters together to try & limit you with a diagnosis.

and most importantly, you will learn that your place in this world is exactly where you are now. & if you stop struggling with it all, you’ll realise you are perfect, just the way you are.

& that my compadre, is how you’re going to do pts(d).

ps: breath bitch ;)

photography & art @kpm-artist 


reconciling the hormones #84

it feels like my uterus is making its way up my spine, then

decides against that,

turns round & heads back toward my asshole.

just to linger there, pulsating,

& torturing my insides with contraction like pains.


i was looking forward to this bastard showing up.





so, we got back last night:

overall, i was fucking awesome.

not just the exhibition, but the days before & after, which were jam packed with more stuff than i usually would do in like,  6 months.

but now i’m blowing chunks like that chick off’ve the old exorcist movie.

& it appears that i have another layer of fuckery to manage …


oh well: @ least i didn’t blow on the exhibition ;)

i shall do an update with photos when me & the porcelain have finished bonding.




phase 2 – and its raining :)

its been a tentative couple days and now i’m an hour and a half away from the exhibition … eeeekkkkk lol.

i’m managing my nerves … just.

i am rolling with it all; as much as i can. cos whats the worst that can happen ay? i can pass out? throw up … both …

oh well lol.

and then the goddesses must’a heard my mumblings … and she sent rain … my beautiful calming rain <3

photography & art @kpm-artist 



art installation: phase 1, complete-ish

installation is semi-complete …

and i did fucking awesome i must say.

i did new faces and smells and spaces and sounds.

i did negotiations and staircases and heights – eeeekkkk.

i pretty proud of me right now.

and i’m happily fucking tired.

photography & art @kpm-artist 



saying, on the one hand, its just fine that i be me-self.

and, on the other hand, i impede the right you think you have to grope me, with my boundaries thusly labelled as an ‘illness’;

is not fucking ok.

its also a tad rapey.