IExpose. Epic Post 1.

So apart from teaching little jellyfish how to sting.

This is what else 2010 tastes like:

A harmonica sourced by my bro. Complete with the cigarette ash from the original owners: 

Oh BOY. this doesn't even need a caption. 

I have missed NZ cocoa beans.

A faure into the adult host world.The turks would have been proud.

I play in this ground:

This is my bro.
Being all natrual like.

At a Market.
I found where fairies pursue the glitter circus and play in gold dust.

While i in the meantime turn my winter stumps into a golden compass. 

So you might recognize the author.

This is better than "eat pray love". 

I figured that out all by myself, before I even read them both.

Her most famous one.

I think I was more excited to photograph it. 

No thats not fair.

I would like to write a quote's book from her musings and claim the royalties.

My photo will one day be on the front.

no not me. 

actually....maybe.

At the hairdressers.

I caught my gown, the table and the wall playing nicely together.

This my new 'do.

Can't do much with it.

Cept look rad.

(haven't heard that word much in NZ, rekon I'll start).

Oh vintage cheese. you always taste the best.

I want to be this Rad then.

(she was marching in the brest cancer walkathon)

 Romanian Food!!!!!

Oh hello tummy.

didn't notice you INVADING my hotness.

Bluddy Romanians.

Always trying to get you to pay for it.

This is my mum. 

Can you believe I'm going to her 60th in a week?

innashesweet?

Fridays.

On the slosh.

HA.

virgan all the way.

I love Flying Burrito Bro's- they make the best non alco drinks.

OH I LOVE SEEING THIS.

its on my road trip to and fro the big smoke.

This is Dad.

He's trying to explain something.

But I'm not listening.

BECAUSE THIS CAR IS MINE.

Oh swoon balloon. 

He has 2 VW's in his garage. 

We (loose term I know) are going to cut and paste the two into a smooth mobile.

 This is the '66

Aww, isn't my dad a champ?

 And this is the '69.

Back to food.

Italy. you can keep your men.

But certainly not your taste in decor. or food either.

This is a piano accordian.

And its upside down.

Thats me holding it.

And to Finish with:

So remember a blog post about dankness?

This was me trying to escape that.

If your feeling ugly.

Surround yourself in beauty.
Then claim it for yourself. 

PS- thats an original quote. Don't steal.

Mating Season.

So its mating season.

Has been a while actually.

The calls are unique.
Some are attractive and husky.
Some are downright crass.

However. This year I am a puppet. Gepetto upstairs is my match maker- No, not 'the man upstairs'.
Just the cheif to my indian.
I hope he remembers what it was like running around barefoot in the woods.

This time last year I had finished carving my jigsaw piece.
I placed it on the table.
At the same time a school was carving out their piece.
Happened to be the same pattern as mine.
And that children...is how a baby is made.

Anyway,
The point is it worked.
9 months later, Im still here. I survived. And my piece is still on the board.
One little part of the bigger picture.

I guess I'm just having a flash back moment to where I thought the world would combust into fairy lights and rainbows as soon I announced my arrival into the 'market' after graduation. But really all it did was grunt and shift over to make room for me.

And for some reason this comforts me.
It's a peaceful moment.
I belong.


I can still hear cat calls as I walk down the street.
Whether its the echo of lovers gone,
Or the whisper of new unions.

But I know, that for now.
I am here.
I belong.

The war???? Bring it.

So last night I tried to write this post. Didn't work. CTRL Z was my frenemy.

Anyway.
I have declared war on smludge. Dankness. politics. PMSness.
And dang its fighting back.

You see...I have a thousand projects that need my inspiration.
Dad has sourced 2 VW's. Fo' Real.
Pictures soon- I'm supposed to be rushing off to work.
Anyway, Also the Sketchbook project.com needs my attention.
And this potential 'thing' for mums birthday (she may read this...so cannot be revealed here).

However this war is crippling.
And I think it goes beyond the present.

I think its that war called Spiritual.
Which is funny I am acknowledging this, and being aware of it- because this freedom and independence has gotten too attractive this year. If I want to go to the shops- I can leave when I want. If I want to ge that chocolate fore breakfast- I did. If I don't want to acknowledge God- I didn't. (I know- I was TOTALLY ruining Syntax there- deliberatly).

Anyway, the point is, I have retreated from God. Neither for nor against. Neither Love nor hate- the worst kind of Christian- apathetic.
Oh boy- no wonder I have struggled to feel passionate.

But my heart is telling me it wants to return.
And what has tugged at my strings? Christian music and peoples stories. There really is something incredible in someone's face shining when they share a truth or experience they had with God.
If they have this passion- perhaps I could to?

So there I have said it.
I want more.
I want to feel.
I want to be all shiny like.

So I have started telling God about my details again.

My problems,
My fears.

The present and the future.


My excitements,
My goals.

The present and the future.

So thats me.
Sorry there's no pictures. My computer is faaaar to slow to respond to random inspiration.

Rather important post:

So its the eve of my 23rd birthday.

This will be a short post.

On the eve of my 20th: "flip. 10yrs ago I was 10. In 10 yrs time I'll be 30".

On the eve of my 21st: "yay, mum and jaxon are here"

22: not much.

Tonight: "The next time the second didgit of my age matches the 1st will be when I'm 33: The age Jesus was when he died".

Random bit of wisdom after my last shower as a 22yr old: Make sure you don't leave your wet red hair on white tiles. It will leave pink lines everywhere. Unless you own the tiles- then take a photo of it and sell the prints on trademe.

Here's a pic of me in case you forgot what I looked like.

kitten's, headache's and fancy pills.

Last night I cried. It was a pathetic attempt- I couldn't let it take me to far down the rabbit hole because if I did- I'd heave.

Drama much? Dang. This week has knocked me down. I have always said I'd turn into a man when I get sick. All 'man flu like', but that was said in the confidence of having never actually been seriously sick in my life. Wait I remember having the sniffles back in my 1st yr at college when the floods took the power and my morale.

But mum, breathing tufts of love down the phone said she never rememberes me being this sick before. Temps of 38 and vertigo themed headache's had never ever been on my radar.

I remember one night this week, I thought my feet were dragged backwards and flinging me in circles like I was the saturday night lottery board.

But I really am blessed to be living with a Dr and a Nurse. We'll call this family the 'Incredibles'.
They last night welcomed me to the world of little blue and white pills. Antibiotics- you little pearls. And a beautiful prayer. There is something stunning about someone praying for you when you don't have the strength to do it yourself.

I can now see without having to squint one eye and tilt my head, I can smell.....(my sheets are in the wash because of this) and I can almost breathe deeply without feeling like I'm sucking life through a straw.

And I'm debt free. I wrote a list of goals and the one at the top of this yr- to be debt free by my birthday. I'm 8 days early.
2nd goal on the list- hasn't happened. But during one 3am wake-up call by God I was thinking that the only way to get me to start taking this goal seriously was if I got stopped in my tracks. If something dramatic happened.

And it seems like a week of debilitating headache's, special moments of kittens sleeping on me, episodes of nausea, interspersed with chapters of the disney favourite "Emperors new groove" might just be the drama I was needing.
Ugh what an awful thing to wish upon myself.

But I guess im looking for the Birds-eye view in a balloon full of helium.

(which incidently- you need to check this woman out- her byline on her blog is "I'd like to see into your dreams my little girl"- while her baby's sleeping, she sets a scene up and takes the picture. http://milasdaydreams.blogspot.com/ )

This is a snippet from my exhabition.

Stop and Stare.

...............by One Republic.
You sound best when a mass of primary schoolers belt you out (of tune).

But this is not about you.

I got this book.
with real pages. Not the Ctrl T type page. Pages that smelt and rustled.
I turned my lights down....bad for the eyes, great for the soul. And then I read.

Till I got distracted and stopped and stared.

Till I got distracted from that and digressed to taking photo's.