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today was anzac.

i’m not feeling it. as pathetic as that sounds … i’m just not.

after the recent shooting that saw 50 peoples lives, end … that we, as a country, have been blatantly quick to forget …

i just aint feeling it.

dont get me wrong, i always remember what my grandfather did for this shitass country & i am eternally grateful for his sacrifice & the toll that it took on him & his family in the following years …

but he’s not walking this earth anymore.

nor are his compadres.

i remember him every day, not just on this day.

what they did won’t ever be forgotten by those that loved them.

not their country.

their country forgets way too quickly.

so,

today i decided to start my own ‘remembrance’. being a pts(d) retard & all, crowded spaces are one of my achilles heels. i’ve guilted myself for the past few years, trying to bust my ass getting to a dawn service.

today, i kissed that scenario goodbye.

instead, i did this:

i did nans version of ‘gunfire’ or a ‘hot toddy’ – hot coffee & rum. then i took it & my funky ass down to the beach & found 2 flowers, the same colour, but different; & did a bouquet that nan would be embarrassed of lol (she was a beautifully talented florist), said my ‘prayers of remembrance’ & set my bouquet afloat.

i love my nan & grandad like no other humans that have been in my life.

today i remembered both of their sacrifices, for a war that wasn’t theirs: for a war that still needlessly rages.


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

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my Nan.

I am made up of many nuances … some of which come from those that have loved Me; those whose genetics I carry. We all have these … I guess some we may not have known, but I’m pretty sure they’re there; lurking in the background.

For Me, one such lovely creation, is my maternal Nan.

I guess I didn’t fully appreciate who she really was and all her strengths, whilst she was alive. But thats typical isn’t it … never really appreciating what you have until its gone.

I do believe though, that even after these people, or things, that have ‘touched’ our lives, have gone, they leave an imprint and therefore never truly ‘leave’ us.

My Nan was raised during the Wars and lived through the Depression. Her and her sisters and brother, lived a life that was hard but also full of ‘learning’ rarely seen nowadays. They were able to ‘play’, create and work like we spend half of our lifetimes trying to get a little taste of.

Nan was especially sensitive to the ‘pain’ of others … and I believe this is one part of her that I inherited. Not that I’ve seen it as a blessing really; but I’ve come to appreciate what it was in her … how she ‘outworked’ that insight. Nan knew when to touch my hand; pat my head; tuck me in; make me macaroni cheese; ring to talk or listen; she knew when to tell a story about where she came from and what she was raised like; she knew when to laugh about the funny things she had experienced; she knew how to love Me.

From her also comes my creativity; my need for peace; my love for ‘pretties’; my love for Shoes!! My intuition and my ability to design … to see beauty when others don’t. My love for dance and music.

My Nan was all these things … and she was what would be termed now, as ‘mentally ill’ … but in her era she was labelled ‘neurotic’, over emotional and over sensitive. As a woman, I get what they did to her now. She was an outspoken woman. A woman well before her time. A entrepreneur and a business woman. And she pissed men off … especially doctors and ‘professionals’. And instead of showing her the compassion and understanding that she showed others, they fried her with ECT first and then pharmaceuticals second. In my lifetime though, she overcame both of those things and still lived hard and gritty. She was still running her own business when she was in her eighties … nearly 5 years before she died.

I miss her. Everyday. I do wish I had’ve really appreciated everything that she was. But I am eternally grateful that She Was! That subtlely, she taught Me; to trust Me; to also say what I need too … even when no-one agrees, or likes what I say – I managed to get that one down packed alright!

I love that she is My Nan. I love that I am her moko, and that she loved Me massively. That she is Me and I am Her. That she left Me stories to tell. That she left me with endurance and strength.

“I Love You Nan …. Thankyou for your songs … Thankyou for your presence xoxo”

nan & little me

kpm ©


 

nan said

Nan use to say that there was more than one way to skin a cat.

I wish she had told me what the other way was.


kpm ©


 

mine to hear

i hear you still

feel you still

soft, flowing

yet, strong, persevering

and before you

there were others

mine

my women

that strengthened

and taught

gave backbone

and softness

chided

and resided

deep in the echoes

of my soul

i still hear you

your songs

your melodies

the way you patted

and rocked

swayed to the music

when its dark

inside

i still hear you


kpm ©