Moana – empathy happens!

Now you may wonder, as presumably most sane ordinary Kiwis do, that being in Moana right now; it is raining, not exactly tropical, been like this since I arrived and is predicted to continue into the foreseeable future – you could be forgiven for asking why on earth would anyone want to be here!

No people, empty luxurious houses by the dozen, visual distance down to just down the road at best. Sometime a cloud becomes visible, long and foreboding. It is bleak, dull, wet, gray and dismal, dead calm, dark early in the evening and late into the morning, regular coal trains hauling shiny dull-black wet miserable coal off to fuel the steel-mills of China, the emptys heading back, an endless drawn-out cycle of huge diesel motors and squealy train tracks, drizzle, silence…

Colin, the manager, has the weekend off so I’m not sure if there is anyone about, not a living soul, just one stupid flightless Weka for furtive company creeping in and out between my wheels.

I love it here.

Debussy – Claire De Lune

Young Irish Woman


Ireland 1996

The Dandelions nourished by the good dead Christians colourfully testify by the ancient altar while the grass grows to decay by the window that was God. Death, history, obedience, continuity, hope, hopelessness and stony silent resilience.

On the other side of the wall walks a young woman, marginalized yet pivotal in the scheme of things; a centre of radiation more powerful by the dis-placement. Youth, fecundity, obscurity, defiance, and a down-hill bivarication forward.

A pretty Irish girl, at least, walking down the street with her arms crossed under her breasts.

Pietro Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana – Intermezzo

Sviatoslav Richter playing Chopin, and interviewed