I think I'm ready.
- little heating device
- coat hangers
- yoga mat
- large sauce pan and steam basket
- bottle of Bushmills BlackBush
- medium large ring-band sketchbook
- some special goat and sheep cheeses (I'm cow's milk intolerant)
- eraser
- zipper, needle and thread (to repair my handbag)
Check!
It's like that question, "if you had to move to an uninhabited island, what would you bring?"
Years ago, I drove down the Western French coast, into Spanish Basque Country, up to Donostia/San Sebastian. Youth hostels and back-packers hostels are great for such trips: basic comfort, friendly company and interesting conversations. In Donostia, the youth hostel is located along the coastal Compostela trail. It was full of walkers taking a brake. A wonderfull opportunity for long conversations, to hear their stories.
What struck me most was this common experience they had of shedding. When you leave for such a long travel, you pack everything you think you will need. As you advance on you trip, you shed. They all said it was a very spiritual experience to come to the realisation that every object they had given away, left in a hostel, thrown away, represented a fear or anxiety that they had overcome.
Packing my bags to come here, not for a life-time, not for a visit, but for over half a year, had already been such a shedding exercise. Preparing for lock-down is another one.
What is really important to me? What do I need to feel safe? To feel comfortable?
(Let's keep it real in the sense that, at the moment, we're looking at a month her in NZ. Still very First-World-Problem level for me. Way less harder than for many others)
I will miss people. I had recently been accepted as a member of the Wellington Potters Association where I could share the workshop and other facilities. When I was working there, people were coming and going and I got to know a few a bit better.
Four of us were at work there yesterday around 1:30pm when one of us turned the news on. I was heading out to get lunch at Le Marché Français @lemarchefrancais but stayed on as they were announcing the Prime Minister. As of immediately, all café's and restaurants were to close - no lunch today!... - and everyone had to go home. Schools had 48hrs to shut down, non-food shops had 24hrs. So we had a day and a half to prepare.
- I'm just describing the process as it happened here, but has it been the same in every country going into lockdown? -
As I was cleaning up my work space and wrapping up the piece I am working on, I felt very sad to not know when I could, literally, lay my hands on it again. Very kindly one of my new friends offered to drive me home with my piece carefully held on my lap.
By now it was not even 3pm. After a quick bite and a bit of thinking, I went for the first identified essentials, making haste to get there before closing time between 4 and 6pm:
For my sculpting:
- a turn-table
- a set of basic tools like a cutting thread, a sponge, a hollowing tool
- plastic trash bags
I also needed:
- some baking tools
Having to spend much more time in my tiny apartment, I realised last night that I would have to make better use of my physical interface with the outside world. So I turned all the furniture around in my Kitchen/living space. Now the couch faces the large bay-window and the table is next to the window to maximise daylight in this end-of-summer. As I write this, I see people coming and going
A last thing I did today was to go around the food stores in my neighbourhood to know where to find what.
I have a pile of books to read, my sculpting and carving kits, access to the internet, a smartphone and food for 2-3 days.
Oh, I also bought a 500ml thermos flask to go have a cup of tea somewhere with a nice view. This to compensate for visits to my new favourite café Lido. I'm quite happy with the thermos. I like the idea of going somewhere with a good book and serving myself some nice hot tea and watch whatever life is going on around me (from a distance).
But, in the end, what do I Really need?
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Monday, March 2, 2020
Sunny Summer Sundays
So, what does one do on a Sunny Summer Sunday in Wellington?
Well, one has a nice lie-in to start with, but then:
The New Zealand Festival of the Arts is in full swing and is offering a lot around literature beside the usual dance, theatre, music and the such. In many of my meetings in the previous week, this had been mentioned so I booked tickets to a few events.
I started my late day with a 'conversation' with Alan Duff in the Michael Fowler Centre. Alan Duff was presenting his new book, "A conversation with my country". Best known to me as the author of the novel "Once were warriors" that was made into an impressive film, I discovered him as a highly critical and creative person. Half-Maori on his mother's side, he has delved deep into this side of his life.
His new book is rich in insights. "Returned from living in France, he views his country with fresh eyes, as it is now: homing in on the crises in parenting, our prisons, education and welfare systems, and a growing culture of entitlement that entraps Pakeha and Maori alike." A chapter per topic.
I had a look at the book but it was sold out at the Festival book stand.
Having been saved by re-discovering books aged 15 (his dad is a scientist and his grand-dad a writer), Duff has cofounded "Duffy Books at Home" bringing millions of books in the homes of millions of people who can't afford to have any. There is still a lot of anger in his energy but, like he says himself, he has learned to channel it in creativity and constructiveness.
The Festival bookshop was out of copies by the time I got there but I managed to appropriate another beauty of a book that was presented earlier that day in my absence: "We are here" (see further)
Before heading to my second conference I had a few hours to kill so I headed with my Ukulele to a Uke-in up Cuba street. This was my first experience of such a Uke Jam where ukulele players bring their instruments and the organisers provide scores and a location to just play together.
Now I know that I could play ukulele practically every day of the week in Wellington and surroundings. The "New Zealand Ukulele Network" is the Facebook page to be.
There was still an hour to kill so I headed to my favourite café for a cup of tea, a late lunch/early supper and a read in my beautiful new book "We are here, An atlas of Aotearoa" by Chris McDowall and Tim Denee. It is gorgeous both visually and content-wise! check out some of the content here.
The day neared a closing with a conversation between authors Catherine Robertson, Bronwyn Sell and (British) Lucy-Ann Holmes on issues such as their creative journeys or how society in general and the literary world more specifically treat literature by women and for women.
For my stroll back home, I chose the way leading along the water and all the activity in the little time left before sunset. Walking around in Wellington, it is easy to forget how near to the water you always are.
Have a nice week!
Nga mihi
Well, one has a nice lie-in to start with, but then:
The New Zealand Festival of the Arts is in full swing and is offering a lot around literature beside the usual dance, theatre, music and the such. In many of my meetings in the previous week, this had been mentioned so I booked tickets to a few events.
I started my late day with a 'conversation' with Alan Duff in the Michael Fowler Centre. Alan Duff was presenting his new book, "A conversation with my country". Best known to me as the author of the novel "Once were warriors" that was made into an impressive film, I discovered him as a highly critical and creative person. Half-Maori on his mother's side, he has delved deep into this side of his life.
His new book is rich in insights. "Returned from living in France, he views his country with fresh eyes, as it is now: homing in on the crises in parenting, our prisons, education and welfare systems, and a growing culture of entitlement that entraps Pakeha and Maori alike." A chapter per topic.
I had a look at the book but it was sold out at the Festival book stand.
Having been saved by re-discovering books aged 15 (his dad is a scientist and his grand-dad a writer), Duff has cofounded "Duffy Books at Home" bringing millions of books in the homes of millions of people who can't afford to have any. There is still a lot of anger in his energy but, like he says himself, he has learned to channel it in creativity and constructiveness.
The Festival bookshop was out of copies by the time I got there but I managed to appropriate another beauty of a book that was presented earlier that day in my absence: "We are here" (see further)
Before heading to my second conference I had a few hours to kill so I headed with my Ukulele to a Uke-in up Cuba street. This was my first experience of such a Uke Jam where ukulele players bring their instruments and the organisers provide scores and a location to just play together.
Now I know that I could play ukulele practically every day of the week in Wellington and surroundings. The "New Zealand Ukulele Network" is the Facebook page to be.
There was still an hour to kill so I headed to my favourite café for a cup of tea, a late lunch/early supper and a read in my beautiful new book "We are here, An atlas of Aotearoa" by Chris McDowall and Tim Denee. It is gorgeous both visually and content-wise! check out some of the content here.
The day neared a closing with a conversation between authors Catherine Robertson, Bronwyn Sell and (British) Lucy-Ann Holmes on issues such as their creative journeys or how society in general and the literary world more specifically treat literature by women and for women.
For my stroll back home, I chose the way leading along the water and all the activity in the little time left before sunset. Walking around in Wellington, it is easy to forget how near to the water you always are.
Have a nice week!
Nga mihi
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