in a hand basket?

yah know that saying … “something something, hell, something, in a hand basket?”

yeah well its actually (after aunty google’ising) : ‘to hell in a hand basket’, meaning somethings turning into shit faster than expected (my interpretation) …

& where was i going with that …

oh yeah … NZ is in the hand basket, on its why to hell.

yeah.

after ‘the events which transpired last week’ aka, after the mass shooting / terrorism attack by a white supremacist which left 49 people dead … the country is reeling.

seriously. reeling.

but not as you’d think: from my point of view anyways.

reasoning, denial, tokenism & of course, blame, is all settling in.

& i’m tired.


kpm ©


 

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“nz is racist AF.”

so says our bro taika waititi.

so, this happened today.

headline: forty-nine dead in mosque mass shooting.

& let the blame games begin.

am i surprised this has happened in clean green new zealand?

fuck No.

& this is all i had to say about that:

“yep ill say it:

this is exactly what NZ is. there is a part of the population that is awake, aware & not racist AF … but the time for letting the other part of the population, that are as racist AF, get away with their racist little snide remarks & their openly cowardice actions … yeah that time was way the fuck over years ago. this is not the first time this soil has seen a ‘culture’ decimated by white men. & today is a wake up call. 

this is not about religion or even politics IMO. its about the notion of superiority. in this case, white superiority. which we all know is some bullshit.

y’all need to get your ‘culture’ in check.”


kpm ©


 

Video

dragons and demons ~ herbs

dragons and demons – herbs, 1981

a child prostitute

How is that even a thing,

I wonder.

As I watch them come and go.

I see their ‘baby on board’ stickers

In their rear windows.

And who do they pick up?

You look no more than eleven.

Are you eleven,

or younger?

I feel disgust for those leeches.

Those scum infested bastards.

But you leave with them,

And return in 10 minutes.

How is it that you have to be here?

Why do you go with them?

Yes I know the answer.

But all the answer does not lie with you.

They said on the News;

“What should we be doing about the child prostitution issue”.

It’s an issue?

No,

it’s a fucking abomination!

A shame on this nation!

A child,

a prostitute.

Your ‘clients’ are rapist pigs.

They are not clients.

Your job is not a job.

It isn’t a well thought out career pathway.

It’s cunty pedos cashing in on your silence.

Your need.

Your vulnerability.

I hate them for you!!

I told you so,

When you wouldn’t come with me.

I told you so,

As you huffed your poison and rolled your little eyes.

I told you I would hate them for you,

And I do!

I’ll fix it if it takes me forever

I’ll fix it.

So you can braid your hair

And get your nails did

So you can eat your lunch at school

And you can sleep between Dora Explorer sheets.

I’ll fix it

I’ll keep hating them

Until I fix it.


kpm ©


 

on : dead funeral stuff

Yes, it seems a little morbid, but after recent events and conversations I decided to take matters into my own hands, and plan ahead. Properly.

After a little research I found out the following (for our country anyways) … this is ‘my’ interpreted version:

  • A will doesn’t need to be done with a lawyer, it just needs to be written and witnessed by 2 people who won’t get anything out of it; the will that is.
  • You can’t bury on private land unless you have a shitload of permits.
  • Burying in a cemetery also takes a shitload of permits.
  • Why be buried with a shit tonne of people you don’t know, especially when you hardly liked people when you were alive?
  • The funeral industry is just that; an industry. They’ll make a buck off’ve anything.
  • A service is held for customary reasons. There’s no real necessity in it.
  • You don’t need a casket to be buried in, or cremated in.
  • You don’t need to be embalmed.
  • You don’t need to be cut up unless you died some heinous way and they want to poke around and find the cause of death.
  • If you get buried in non-biodegradable shit (including the box), that shit lingers and leeches into the earth.
  • An urn is a waste of money. A jar will do.
  • The cheapest way to go is cremation; but that still costs a shit tonne of money. I think the Vikings had the right idea.
  • It’s still possible to be buried at sea, but again, you need a shit tonne of permits.
  • Even a natural burial here, has regulations re: planting, depth of burial, buying a plot.
  • It’ll cost you a small fortune to transport the body and hire a mortician peep, but when fams are grieving, that’s the last thing they’re worried about.
  • Apparently you can get some death grant to help with expenses. How nice of them.
  • A cemetery is still Council / Crown owned. And has regulations.
  • Memorials, headstones and plinths also cost an immoral amount of money.
  • When you’re dead, You’re dead.

kpm ©


 

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photography .159

IMG_1239

#beach_life #island_life #tangaroa #photography #photographer #kpm©


kpm ©


 

vigil.

& as our 2 faced country prepares their vigils for the young life murdered & hear the cries of ‘violence against women & girls isn’t acceptable anytime or anywhere’ : i wonder, will we ever really learn? will we ever really really give a shit about the violence perpetrated against women & children in our little country? will we give a shit enough, to actually do something about it? because this shit is Not new & is an epidemic.

but one we seem to tolerate, until it happens where we can’t just ditch that shit so no-one else will ever see it.


kpm©


 

Link

Watch the stars – we navigate points of light in the dark

An artist of many forms. Huka speaks of all the things that are near and dear to Me.

For More of their writings and art, please visit “huka can haka”.

Excerpt:

“Whakapapa helps Māori people keep memories alive over aeons, through practices of re-storying our lives. Through whakapapa, I am always able to locate myself at the core of my accumulated experiences, even though at times I can feel fragmented and disoriented. Whakapapa resists marginalisation and centres identity, because I can see the ‘today’ of my life through the lens of many generations – I can see the bigger picture. Te Ātiawa, Ngāti Māhanga and Ngāti Māhanga ā Tairi activist and social theorist Leonie Pihama asserts whakapapa as an analytic tool, employed by Māori to understand how we relate in the world . Whakapapa connects Māori to every aspect of existence – when I make art I use whakapapa to re-image lived experiences of marginality many different (but also the same) globalised contexts.”

huka can haka

http://unprojects.org.au/magazine/issues/issue-12-1/watch-the-stars/

Whakapapa is generally translated as genealogy, although can be understood in many different ways. Whakapapa can mean to lie flat, to place in layers, to recite in order; or considered in parts as ‘whaka’ – cause to be, to become; and ‘papa’ which can mean – the Earth, or anything broad flat and hard. In te reo Māori ’papa’ has many meanings associated with ideas of ground, site and layer. Papatūānuku, often shortened to Papa, is the female personification of Earth. The word ‘kaupapa’ can mean the woven foundation for a cloak and has the figurative meaning of a platform or purpose. ‘Whakapapa’ has a literal meaning of placing things in layers. That extends figuratively to reciting genealogical links in their proper order and from there to the word for ‘genealogy’.

Whakapapa is a critical cultural foundation for understanding who you are, where you come from, where and who…

View original post 2,180 more words

Video

featured artist: Darcy Nicholas

Darcy Nicholas is a Contemporary Maori Artist from Aotearoa (New Zealand). His artistry, I would describe as indigenous and deeply personal.

Described as: “Born in Waitara, Taranaki, New Zealand – Darcy Nicholas has been actively involved in the contemporary Maori art movement since the late 1960’s. He has exhibited throughout New Zealand, Australia, Africa, United States, France, India, Britain, Germany, Netherlands, and Canada.”

To find more of his Artistry please go to: http://darcynicholas.co.nz/

(video via YouTube)


kpm ©


 

Link

“Pakeha Anger: Why Do They get Mad at Maori?”

Cognitive Dissonance succinctly explained.

For More Please Visit: https://kupumamae.com

Exploring the Depths of the Maori Experience


So on one beautiful Sunday arvo in downtown Auckland, I was out having a couple of catch-up beers with the cuz, when we unexpectedly got talking to a Pakeha, let’s call him Joe. In his late thirties, living in a predominantly Pakeha populated, small town in Southland, Joe has worked hard his whole life, made a decent way for himself and his family, which forms his philosophy and worldview towards living – work hard and reap the rewards. And so, according to Joe and his life philosophy, anybody that can’t make a life for themselves should suffer the consequences for being lazy and useless, which led him to offer opinions on Maori issues such as;

“Maori come from an aggressive culture and so Maori need to whiten up”
“The land is not Maori’s, as the Maori sold it and so Maori need to get over it”
“Maori/Pakeha conflict is a North Island thing…

View original post 657 more words

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just cos, updates :

For some reason, as my hot flush started taking over this fine ass bod, I thought about the update I have been pondering on but haven’t got around to publishing …

So here I am :)

So, I’ve started packing up the house. I’m an anal fucker like that. But after the feng shui got disturbed with the partners dodgy agreement with the landlord, and although we’ve declined his white priveleged offer … there could be repercussions.

White privledge doesn’t like to be offended.

Oh, and the other reason I’ve started packing is I got shit to do and aint got time for packing in the next month or two.

Moko number #6 is due toward the end of August so I’ve planned on hanging out for a month. Cos thats what Nannys do ;)

By October though she’s on like donkey kong.

Well, for Me anyways.

I got like 4 more personal goals I want to meet before the end of the year. And the collaborative exhibition is in November.

This should be a doozy!

For Me, the process in preparing for it has been similar to the last … but my work has changed abit … which is also normal I’ve come to realise.

It’s all cathartic … it’s all a process …. its all processing.

I’ll be returning to my ‘protesty’ art lol. It’s what I started painting with. As in, I started painting because I had no words to explain the horror I felt as I learnt about our history. Our real history.

Honestly … the pain is horrific … and quite encumbersome. Painting was the only relief I could find.

So this time, our collaborative exhibition is based on the myths related to domestic violence. Completely my jam …

And as I started to try and get my head around what to paint, something completely different happened … as it does. You would have caught little snippets of it throughout the year and my painting related posts.

So this year, I’m addressing the whitewashing of our culture and our position as ‘women’ … of the reverse racism and the result of colonisation that sees Us now at the top of every violent, addict and victim statistic that is presented to Us via government and social justice groups.

As you can imagine … it’s caused a bit of angst ;)

But it’s been good. It’s brought another wave to the story.

In and amongst all this, I’m also going to respond to my daughters father, who was my first ‘grown up’ experience of ‘relationship’ violence. Not actually sure if it’s grown-up violence considering I was 15 … but oh well, there it is.

In the shitfest that was the rest of my life lol, I’m not sure that I ever really got to respond to / about him. I grew up and it turned out there were way worse things in store for Me than being beaten about the head with a telephone book.

But yeah …

So, I’ll continue to pop into my awesome blog and update randomly and have a giz around … catchup with the blog world happenings and post random posts and poetry about sexual assault, violence, racism and casual sexism … the usuals ;)

Love and light to All y’all xoxo


#abstract #art #abstract_art #abstractpainting #whitewash #series #storytelling #resistance_art #selfdetermination #kpm©


kpm © : ig @kpm-artist


 

the current news

In our little country, a story regarding the historic sexual assault of multiple children by a supposed prominent member of our Maori community, is circulating. This person is also now, deceased.

His ex wife and family came forward, via Facebook a couple weeks ago, and laid the whole thing bare.

Now on a personal level, I don’t have any beef with how she did this.

What is causing the current shit storm are the outcries of ‘false accusation’ and ‘you can’t condemn a dead man’ and ‘there is no-one else involved’. However the wife has spoken with police and given names of those who may or may not have been involved with the apparent ‘pedo ring’.

Now, I don’t have beef with this either.

The following rant may sound a little harsh in some areas; but, oh well.

The aftermath of this ‘outing’ is rampant on facebook and the  hurt feelings are running deep.

But what is certainly hard to stomach is the LACK of specific and forthright response or support for possible victims.

What is therefore probable, is that hardly any of them will actually come forward … because why would they?

Justice? Relief?

It’s a deep wound and one that can take years to unfold.

Which brings me to the following fuckery.

People are very very quick to jump on the pedo ring rant, or the support for a sexual assault victim – and no offence intended to these peeps. Their journey is just as fucked as the rest of ours.

My bitch is that when it comes to IN HOUSE sexual assault – via family member/s, there is little to Nil sympathy, empathy and support.

Why?

In my non-professional opinion, its because the general population can not quite fathom that a family member, a person related to a victim – a daughter, grandchild, nephew, child … can be sexually assaulted by their parent, grandparent, uncle, aunt, cousin, siblings …

We’ve been fed, as a society, the whole ‘monster under the bed’ theory, and the serial killer anomaly bullshit … that psychos are rare and only strike once in a while.

We forget that the stats for this sort of shit are currently 1 in 3 females / 1 in 5 males will be sexually assaulted before the age of 18 … in our country anyways.

It doesn’t seem to occur to us, that if these are the under-reported figures, who do they think is doing the assaulting?

Random strangers?

No.

You are more likely to be sexually assaulted by someone you know, period.

I think what becomes to hard for the general population, is the thought of unravelling an entire families dysfunctions to get the whole shitty fucking thing right out in the open. It costs to shine a light on grubby little secrets that cost our children their entire lives.

But we as human beings, need a fucking reality check.

This shit is happening.

In homes.

In churches.

In schools.

Its done by seemingly normal looking people who hold down jobs, are on the PTA, play golf and do grocery shopping. They are skilled chameleons and do not want their filth exposed for the world to see.

Going back to our current news of the week … whoever is accused in this whole filthy thing, and it turns out that they’re innocent … cool. But I don’t care really. They’ll live.

Those that have had to deal with the ordeal of sexual assault and then have had to live with the secret for years … my empathy lies with them. Whether they speak out or not, they are all survivors and all deserve to heal.

The rest of the pedo cunts can go fuck themselves. I hope they’re called out and dealt with like our tipuna (ancestors) would have done.

#death.


kpm ©


 

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photography .87

#97

#sunset #beautiful #nature #ocean #photography #kpm©


kpm ©


 

Video

watching you ~ ardijah

watching you ~ ardijah, 1988

choices choices

What does one do when you have no money and no insurance …

and you’re sick?

we have choices you know:

  1. You can let your temperature rise and the infection fester, ring for an ambulance. Cost: Ambulance: $90 (invoiced). Hospital – free – but a 18-48 wait and no guarantee they’ll treat you unless you are literally dying.
  2. Stay home, try home remedies. Cost: Nothing. But no guarantee it’ll work.

Welcome to 2017 where the healthcare is as fucked as it was is 1817.

Good one NZ.


kpm ©


 

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interrupting the routine commentary for a nz update:

$6.20 for 500g of butter!

Wtf New Zealand!

Land of milk and honey my ass!

#photograph: 500g block of butter


kpm ©


 

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speaking of racism & police violence

they say there is none.

.

a myth made up by those

who are criminally inclined

those that break windows

in a sleepy little town,

those who drink to get drunk

those who disturb

the peace, and the peaceful.

those that deserve

everything they get.

.

i wonder what those

well informed souls

believe about those in

the neighbouring vicinities

who under the ever watchful mauri,

of the black sands and maunga majestic,

tilled their soil

in peaceful protest

against the armed constabulary

ordered to remove them from their homes.

“As fears grew among white settlers that the resistance campaign was a prelude to renewed armed conflict,[6] the Hall Government began planning a military assault at Parihaka to close it down.[7] Pressured by Native Minister John Bryce, the government finally acted in late October 1881 while the sympathetic Governor was out of the country. Led by Bryce, on horseback, 1600 troops and cavalry entered the village at dawn on 5 November 1881.[8] The soldiers were greeted with hundreds of skipping and singing children offering them food. Te Whiti and Tohu were arrested and jailed for 16 months, 1600 Parihaka inhabitants were expelled and dispersed throughout Taranaki without food or shelter and the remaining 600 residents were issued with government passes to control their movement. Soldiers looted and destroyed most of the buildings at Parihaka. Land that had been promised as reserves by a commission of inquiry into land confiscations was later seized and sold to cover the cost of crushing Te Whiti’s resistance, while others were leased to European settlers, shutting Māori out of involvement in the decisions over land use.”


kpm ©


 

SaveSave

SaveSave

thats awesome ACC, insert *sarcastic eye roll*

The assessment is back. Noted. Added to the pts(d) is mdd. Awesome.

So todays conversation with the almighty ACC, went a little something like this … hit it:

  • so, you (meaning ACC – thats, Accident Compensation Corporation) will assist with counselling, right?

Yes.

  • and?

You are covered for mental injury, as noted on your new assessment.

  • which means?

We will assist with your recovery from your mental injury.

  • which means?

*Silence.

  • does that include practical help … like, transport to and from appointments?

We can assist with more than 80ks worth of travel in a month.

  • defined as, what?

Your own transport, and we can reimburse a percentage.

  • and if I don’t have my own transport?

We can look at paying for a bus, possibly.

  • pardon?

Where preferable, you should make your own way to and from appointments and we can reimburse a percentage.

  • what about something else, like self defence for instance?

No. We won’t help with physical activity.

  • what about, art therapy, or something along those lines?

We can assist with the recovery of your mental injury.

  • what about helping with future career or job prospects? getting back to work scenarios?

We will assist with the recovery of your mental injury. So, No, not work prospects. We can pay for a Social Worker to assist you with a CV and possibilities for further assistance.

  • Oh, Wow. Now that’s helpful.

kpm ©


 

Video

white lines ~ six60

white lines ~ six60, 2015

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Reality Check … Earthquakes:

After shocks are about 5 minutes apart and are ranging from light to weak at the moment.

I had a reasonably decent sleep / sort of … thanks to the aid of a sedative or 2.

Yesterday was hellish in all its wonderment.

I checked my heart rate etc because it felt like I was in full-scale panic mode. But my heart rate was good and steady. So I had to take stock. Drastically.

Day before I semi replenished the survival kit and made sure our (or my) plan for leaving, if necessary, was down pact. No more 10 minute lingering around for the partner to get his shit together so we can leave … if there had’ve actually been a tsunami I wouldn’t be writing this now!

The initial earthquake was ferocious. I don’t think I’ve ever been in one like it in my lifetime. Everything literally rocked and rolled … there was no standing, walking or even sheltering from it for that matter. It felt like it folded everything in and around us.

One of my worst things. I hate them!

I thought it was just the vertigo, but nah; I dislike them for plenty of other reasons besides vertigo.

Unpredictability being on top of the list. And you know, they (the powers that be) seem to be able to predict all sorts of shit .. but apparently NOT earthquakes.

Then there’s the movement. That’s right, I’m NOT a roller coaster kinda Chickie … those things are hell on little tiny wheels. No thanks!

And so yesterday I decided to do a bit more research into the whole earth moving thing. It’s surprisingly not something I’ve researched – Why – because I hate the bastards and would rather just hope they don’t happen. Sure, I prepared; small survival kit and all … but that was for the zombie apocalypse, not earthquake slash tsunami.

Turns out (which I sorta kinda, loosely knew), 2 tectonic plates run right through the middle of New Zealand –

tectonics

See that awesome red / orange line that is pretty much blotting out our entire country? Yeah well that’s where the two plates meet – The Pacific Plate and the Indo-Australian Plate.

Awesome.

And according to the old school fishermen round here, every full moon, as the earth is closer to the moon and the tides rise, we are more prone to earthquakes.

Awesomer.

Enter – Supermoon.

Apparently these old school bastards knew we were in for a few jolts, because as nature does, it has a system. And so far, it has never failed.

Awesome-est – I wish some cunt had filled me in on this prior to the pretty full super fucking moon!!!

So, back onto GeoNet, I started trying to figure out how long this shit is going to last. Turns out it could be anywhere from a few days to at least 30 days … the latter is more likely.

They have 3 likely probabilities … to simplify … 1. aftershocks that slowly decrease then possibly stop. 2. a smaller earthquake than the first but enough to set off a tsunami, depending on where the earthquake is centred – possibly, and 3. a bigger earthquake than the first – yes that’s right “Possibly”.

How absolutely, positively, reassuringly, possibly – Awesome!.

Another words they don’t really fucken know.

So What Would Me Do?

I would plan the fuck out of all possible scenarios and then try to chill the fuck out … I don’t have enough sedatives for 30 days!

So today we (I really mean ME) are filling the water bottles, getting more candles, matches and butane for the portable cooker; we are packing more canned goods, gassing the fucking car up, packing the supplies in the car … we are moving all breakable / shakeable objects off’ve the shelves (and just as well I’m a fucking minimalist!) … and packing enough coffee and period shit for at least 2 months! They say 30 days; I’ll plan for 60+!

So lesson in all of this – all well and good planning for the zombie apocalypse and all well and good living off the fucking grid and all well and fucking good loving the ocean and all – BUT earthquake + ocean = tsunami … how about planning for that dumbass!

Never mind … thanks to pts(d) I am as anal as fuck and will have this shit sorted by the end of the day … hopefully all stays still till then LOL.

And I’ll continue breathing … because the other thing that has become very fucking apparent, is I have No control over mother nature, and she is paying no mind to Me, My Vertigo or My PTS fucking (D) and my lack of anti-anxiety medication or sedatives! Bitch. So I’m gonna have to handle it somehow or I’ll be a basket case by the end of the 30 days.

Peace Out.


kpm ©