Stuck: On the conditions that ignite or suppress truly creative writing
This type of writing doesn't feel like work. It feels like something between necessity and reward. If I was a bird I guess I'd sing.
Latest Musings
(132)Sometimes political, sometimes poetic. If you missed a post, catch up here.
Announcing an exciting new creative direction for this newsletter...
For lots of reasons, it feels like the right time to switch things around.
Exciting news! (and boring admin)
Sharing and exchanging from our respective kete mātauranga? Yes! Let's do that.
Poppin' off Pānui #10: Eyes wide open
When you put all the pieces together it's really clear that standing with indigenous people on the front lines of their own whenua is probably the most powerful climate action we can take. That's true here in Aotearoa as much as it is in Palestine.
All those years to be my valentine
But I love that it was Love, not fear, that wrested you free in the end.
Hope is shaped like a shovel and will give you blisters
More than once I felt like kneeling down. There’s a kind of awe that hits you when you understand the scale of the loss and the commitment required to heal and recover.
The rapture of Survival: A collage of post-Waitangi mundane delights
Lois realises in her list of delights, there are no mundane tasks. Is she lazy? Possibly. Probably. She is surrounded by people who excel at the domestic. Lois prefers to document the domestic.
Post-script: Responding to the comments....
This is my wero and karanga back to you e te tuahine. What about that initial vision you talked to me about? Do you remember?
I don't want to write about it but. (Why I'm leaving Substack.)
When my puku is churning it usually means I have to.
Instructions for (not) Letting Go
A weird and short parable.
An editor lives in my head
Years ago, Lois used to argue with John in actual cafes. They would meet and he would have a long black and her and oat milk flattie. Sometimes they ate (him lasagne with side salad, her a scone which she'd barely touch).
What would happen if you were truly free?
"To get to a place where you could love anything you chose — not to need permission for desire — well now, that was freedom." - Toni Morrison