I was watching the news this evening on Channel One, when the item about the murder of Emma Agnew came on. The ex-girlfriend of the guy accused of raping and murdering Emma was in the witness stand giving her testimony and this had created quite an interest. Understandably. What I just couldn't find understandable, however, was that the first thing the reporting journalist said about her was:
"She was slim, attractive and well-dressed..."
What on earth does that have to do with anything? If she had shown up and been over-weight, ugly and in ripped jeans, would it have taken anything away from her testimony or her credibility? Or was it a warning? "See! Nice girls can get mixed up with murderers too!"
God knows. I just found it totally irrelevant and worthy of some comment.
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
Monday, 31 March 2008
So many books, so little time...
Quote of the month:
"Why plough doggedly through an indifferent book, when you know you'll die leaving so many great books unread?"
-Linley Boniface, Booknotes, 161, Autumn 2008.
This quote is a slice of perceptive genius, and for a bookworm like myself, something of a manifesto. Why read dross when there is so much gold out there? My bookshelf is half full of books I haven't quite found the time to read yet. Books like The Handmaid's Tale by my beloved Margaret Atwood; The great classic War and Peace; Wild Swans by Jung Chang... the list goes on and numbers up into the thirties. It's not that I don't read, I most certainly do (studying literature at Masters level does require a modicum of reading after all) but my buying of books that I "must have" seems to outstrip my current reading rate! I do, after all, aspire to the likes of Peter Lineham who had to have the foundations of his house strengthened to accomodate his book collection.
In any case, this quote was a good wake up call. There have been times when I have wasted HOURS over a book that I didn't really want to keep reading, but did for reasons that, given this new perspective, now escape me. The next time I find myself checking how many pages I have to go before the end (a sure sign that I'm not enjoying the book) I shall be setting it aside and picking up a book that truly deserves my attention.
Problem is... which one?
"Why plough doggedly through an indifferent book, when you know you'll die leaving so many great books unread?"
-Linley Boniface, Booknotes, 161, Autumn 2008.
This quote is a slice of perceptive genius, and for a bookworm like myself, something of a manifesto. Why read dross when there is so much gold out there? My bookshelf is half full of books I haven't quite found the time to read yet. Books like The Handmaid's Tale by my beloved Margaret Atwood; The great classic War and Peace; Wild Swans by Jung Chang... the list goes on and numbers up into the thirties. It's not that I don't read, I most certainly do (studying literature at Masters level does require a modicum of reading after all) but my buying of books that I "must have" seems to outstrip my current reading rate! I do, after all, aspire to the likes of Peter Lineham who had to have the foundations of his house strengthened to accomodate his book collection.
In any case, this quote was a good wake up call. There have been times when I have wasted HOURS over a book that I didn't really want to keep reading, but did for reasons that, given this new perspective, now escape me. The next time I find myself checking how many pages I have to go before the end (a sure sign that I'm not enjoying the book) I shall be setting it aside and picking up a book that truly deserves my attention.
Problem is... which one?
Sunday, 23 March 2008
For John
The dull thud of the closing door -
Death has come again
Bringing with it loss and sorrow
Unbearable depths of pain.
Outside the slowly waving branches
Of the bended willow tree weep
They tell of a sadness and a grief
That cuts too near, too deep.
Although many of us will wonder
And never quite understand
You have chosen now to leave us
Going onwards, to that unknown land.
I hope you rest in peace, friend
And you'll find what it is you sought
You will always be remembered here
For all the joy you brought.
R.I.P. John
7 June 1984 - 13 March 2008
Death has come again
Bringing with it loss and sorrow
Unbearable depths of pain.
Outside the slowly waving branches
Of the bended willow tree weep
They tell of a sadness and a grief
That cuts too near, too deep.
Although many of us will wonder
And never quite understand
You have chosen now to leave us
Going onwards, to that unknown land.
I hope you rest in peace, friend
And you'll find what it is you sought
You will always be remembered here
For all the joy you brought.
R.I.P. John
7 June 1984 - 13 March 2008
Friday, 21 March 2008
The inspirational drought is broken!
I haven't written anything here for ages!
Why? I wondered. I think it was because I ran out of things to say. I had a serious creative drought in the last half of last year, brought about mainly by emotional stress I think. When you're constantly dodging verbal land mines and looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next relational bomb to drop in the landscape of your personal life, it becomes hard to look into the imaginary world and create something. Focusing on survival does that to you. Only the most immediate and most urgent tasks have any priority and everything else seems superfluous.
Anyways, now I have figured out how to add photos, I think this should help jazz things up around here. Here's a couple of photos in which I find inspiration. Both are photos taken in Taiwan during August 2007.
Quiet contemplation in the park.
The Taipei skyline from the 101 observatory deck.
So where to from here? Hopefully I'll be able to find my voice again and move forward with my writing and/or photography!
Why? I wondered. I think it was because I ran out of things to say. I had a serious creative drought in the last half of last year, brought about mainly by emotional stress I think. When you're constantly dodging verbal land mines and looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next relational bomb to drop in the landscape of your personal life, it becomes hard to look into the imaginary world and create something. Focusing on survival does that to you. Only the most immediate and most urgent tasks have any priority and everything else seems superfluous.
Anyways, now I have figured out how to add photos, I think this should help jazz things up around here. Here's a couple of photos in which I find inspiration. Both are photos taken in Taiwan during August 2007.
Quiet contemplation in the park.
The Taipei skyline from the 101 observatory deck.So where to from here? Hopefully I'll be able to find my voice again and move forward with my writing and/or photography!
Wednesday, 30 May 2007
Where to from here??
How do you help someone to see what is blindingly obvious to everyone else? Can you even make someone see something that the should see but might not want to? I don't think you can. I think the best thing that anyone can do for anyone is to be patient with them and let them come to their own conclusions.
But that path is just so frustrating! It's hard to see something bad happening and have to wait because you can't do anything. It's frustrating having no power to dive in and save someone you know is at risk of drowning. Even worse when you throw them a life raft and they don't take it because they don't even see that they are at risk. But then you can't be all things to all people and sometimes people need to hit the bottom to be able to come back to the top. I just hate seeing people in pain, it hurts me seeing people I care about hurting. It breaks my heart to see their heart breaking.
And the only thing I can do is wait...
But that path is just so frustrating! It's hard to see something bad happening and have to wait because you can't do anything. It's frustrating having no power to dive in and save someone you know is at risk of drowning. Even worse when you throw them a life raft and they don't take it because they don't even see that they are at risk. But then you can't be all things to all people and sometimes people need to hit the bottom to be able to come back to the top. I just hate seeing people in pain, it hurts me seeing people I care about hurting. It breaks my heart to see their heart breaking.
And the only thing I can do is wait...
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
Teetering on the edge...
I spent last weekend feeling like I was teetering on the edge of insanity. It felt like there was a black abyss just waiting for me to falter and fall, never to be seen again. My brain was a whirlpool of Derrida, Lacan and Barthes; fear of failure and what seemed to be a general lack of communication from anyone I knew. It was a seriously dissociative experience of feeling totally disconnected from the real world. Not fun, not fun at all.
Anyways, I managed to claw my way back and reconnect. But it made me think. Maybe sanity is only a shadow away from ourselves. Maybe it lurks, unseen, under the crevices of our mind. Maybe insanity is just a condition that everyone and anyone flicks in and out of from time to time. Or was it just me? Who knows.
Anyways, I managed to claw my way back and reconnect. But it made me think. Maybe sanity is only a shadow away from ourselves. Maybe it lurks, unseen, under the crevices of our mind. Maybe insanity is just a condition that everyone and anyone flicks in and out of from time to time. Or was it just me? Who knows.
Tuesday, 1 May 2007
Scattered thoughts...
There's been a lot on my mind recently, so I haven't written on here in the hope that I would soon clear my mind and I would be able to write more clearly.
Didn't happen.
Never mind I'll just write anyways! So there's been a lot of death around recently. And it's gotten me thinking about death, mourning, memory and other cultural rituals that surround the end of a person's life. My lecturer for one of the papers I am taking this year pointed out to me that in Western Culture, it seems like we are getting less and less able to deal with death. It's becoming more and more professionalised and happening further and further away from the domestic sphere.
And when you think about it, that's scarily true. Someone dies, and a medical professional is required to verify that they are dead. Then a certificate of death is issued. Then the body is taken away by people in the profession of undertaking to be cleaned up and made presentable for the funeral, again, presided over by a professional. Then the body is either buried or cremated. Yep, you got it, again by professionals. Man, death is a big industry. And it's never going to lack clientele.
But why has death needed to be sanitised so much? Why can't we all deal with the gritty reality of what will eventually happen to each and every one of us? Yes, this is a morbid topic but why do people have such a hard time reading it? Are we all in a state of denial? I think I am. Less so about my own death, even though I can barely acknowledge that. I'm definitely in a state of denial about the deaths of those people around me that I love. I straight out cannot think about that without some kind of minor panic attack, the thought is just so horrific. Especially as I know the absolute finality of death that you will only ever understand once you have lost someone. There's no come back, no reprieve, no second chance. That's why I always obsessively tell everyone I care about that I love them or to take care of themselves whenever I say goodbye. Yeah, I have a complex, but at least I admit it!!
In any case, this is a topic too depressing to dwell on for too long. Maybe that's a reason we have professionals that can deal with it better than the majority of the population. But then again, maybe having to deal with death and face it on a day to day basis would make us all a bit stronger, a bit nicer to each other and a bit more appreciative of life as it is around us.
Cos I'm sure we'll all miss our lives once they're taken away from us.
Didn't happen.
Never mind I'll just write anyways! So there's been a lot of death around recently. And it's gotten me thinking about death, mourning, memory and other cultural rituals that surround the end of a person's life. My lecturer for one of the papers I am taking this year pointed out to me that in Western Culture, it seems like we are getting less and less able to deal with death. It's becoming more and more professionalised and happening further and further away from the domestic sphere.
And when you think about it, that's scarily true. Someone dies, and a medical professional is required to verify that they are dead. Then a certificate of death is issued. Then the body is taken away by people in the profession of undertaking to be cleaned up and made presentable for the funeral, again, presided over by a professional. Then the body is either buried or cremated. Yep, you got it, again by professionals. Man, death is a big industry. And it's never going to lack clientele.
But why has death needed to be sanitised so much? Why can't we all deal with the gritty reality of what will eventually happen to each and every one of us? Yes, this is a morbid topic but why do people have such a hard time reading it? Are we all in a state of denial? I think I am. Less so about my own death, even though I can barely acknowledge that. I'm definitely in a state of denial about the deaths of those people around me that I love. I straight out cannot think about that without some kind of minor panic attack, the thought is just so horrific. Especially as I know the absolute finality of death that you will only ever understand once you have lost someone. There's no come back, no reprieve, no second chance. That's why I always obsessively tell everyone I care about that I love them or to take care of themselves whenever I say goodbye. Yeah, I have a complex, but at least I admit it!!
In any case, this is a topic too depressing to dwell on for too long. Maybe that's a reason we have professionals that can deal with it better than the majority of the population. But then again, maybe having to deal with death and face it on a day to day basis would make us all a bit stronger, a bit nicer to each other and a bit more appreciative of life as it is around us.
Cos I'm sure we'll all miss our lives once they're taken away from us.
Friday, 13 April 2007
Dedication to those gone before us
This last week has seen the passing of two extraordinary women in my partner's family. I feel lucky and honoured that I had the chance to meet both of them before they moved on to the next realm. Both lived through social upheaval, political revolution, loss of children... Things that many of us will hopefully never have to experience.
This has also made me think of my own grandparents who all passed on, within a year of each other, just over seven years ago. Although their lives were lived in totally different countries with vastly different cultures to that of my partner's grandparents, they too lived through some very tough times and were all amazing people with fascinating life stories. Although it has been seven years, I still miss them as much as I did the day they passed. And in many ways, they are still as much a part of my life now as they were when they were alive. It's just the method of communication changes slightly.
I believe that death isn't the end of it all. I don't know what happens or where people go but I do know that they go on to somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere better. I guess we'll know for sure once we get there.
The most important point for me is that I think that everyone has an interesting story to tell of their life and that we should give more credence to the voice of our elders. Once they are gone, we lose a vastly rich wealth of knowledge, experience and wisdom. Also, cherish everyone you have whilst they are still living and try not to let the daily irritations get in the way of appreciating each other.
You'll never know the true finality of death until it's too late.
This has also made me think of my own grandparents who all passed on, within a year of each other, just over seven years ago. Although their lives were lived in totally different countries with vastly different cultures to that of my partner's grandparents, they too lived through some very tough times and were all amazing people with fascinating life stories. Although it has been seven years, I still miss them as much as I did the day they passed. And in many ways, they are still as much a part of my life now as they were when they were alive. It's just the method of communication changes slightly.
I believe that death isn't the end of it all. I don't know what happens or where people go but I do know that they go on to somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere better. I guess we'll know for sure once we get there.
The most important point for me is that I think that everyone has an interesting story to tell of their life and that we should give more credence to the voice of our elders. Once they are gone, we lose a vastly rich wealth of knowledge, experience and wisdom. Also, cherish everyone you have whilst they are still living and try not to let the daily irritations get in the way of appreciating each other.
You'll never know the true finality of death until it's too late.
Saturday, 7 April 2007
There goes my moment...
It's my last night in Adelaide. My other half flew out to Sydney, transferring to Taipei this morning at 6.30 and I feel like someone has ripped my heart out.
You'd think, after 12 months of living in different countries that I would be pretty good with this whole goodbye thing. In actual fact I wonder if it's just getting harder. I've spent most of today in a bit of a mist, just waiting for tomorrow to come so I can go home and get back to the distraction of day to day reality. But time is finally dragging it's feet. Right when I really don't want it to.
You see, wherever he is feels like home. For a while, FTA felt like home. The overly soft single bed, the sparse bedroom, the dusty dry air. But now that he's gone, it feels like nothing. All of the spirit has been sucked out of it and all I'm left with is the absence, the feeling of loss. He's gone, he's not coming back and I have no idea when I am going to see him again. I know it could be a lot worse and I have little to complain about compared to some people but right now it feels awful. He's my home, my safe place and my light. Anywhere where he isn't just can't really compare to where he is. It's times like these when you realise the true meaning of "I can't live without him".
I know that once I get back to Auckland and life kicks back in that I'll feel better. But right now, sat at an empty desk under the unfriendly glare of the standard issue neon study lamp, perspective on things is a little hard to maintain. All I want is my moment back.
You'd think, after 12 months of living in different countries that I would be pretty good with this whole goodbye thing. In actual fact I wonder if it's just getting harder. I've spent most of today in a bit of a mist, just waiting for tomorrow to come so I can go home and get back to the distraction of day to day reality. But time is finally dragging it's feet. Right when I really don't want it to.
You see, wherever he is feels like home. For a while, FTA felt like home. The overly soft single bed, the sparse bedroom, the dusty dry air. But now that he's gone, it feels like nothing. All of the spirit has been sucked out of it and all I'm left with is the absence, the feeling of loss. He's gone, he's not coming back and I have no idea when I am going to see him again. I know it could be a lot worse and I have little to complain about compared to some people but right now it feels awful. He's my home, my safe place and my light. Anywhere where he isn't just can't really compare to where he is. It's times like these when you realise the true meaning of "I can't live without him".
I know that once I get back to Auckland and life kicks back in that I'll feel better. But right now, sat at an empty desk under the unfriendly glare of the standard issue neon study lamp, perspective on things is a little hard to maintain. All I want is my moment back.
Sunday, 1 April 2007
Hanging on to a moment...
It's my 6th day of my third and final tour of Adelaide, visiting my beloved other half. In four days he graduates from FTA (Flight Training Adelaide) as a certified pilot, with all sorts of licenses and ratings that I am barely qualified to write about! I'm immensely proud, as any good girlfriend should be, and a little overwhelmed that he has achieved so much in so little time. Not that I for a moment thought that he couldn't but I have just realised (having read his reports and paperwork) HOW much he has learnt. None of which I understand at all!
So here I am, with the person I adore most in the whole world, wondering how on earth I savour every last minute available to me with him. You see, I have no idea when I will see him again. It could be June, it could be September. And September is an awfully long way away. Despite time going really fast.
It feels like I can't tell him enough, can't let him understand fully enough how much I absolutely adore him. I can't let him know how emotionally desolate I would be without him. He means so much to me that I can't explain it. Which annoys me as usually I am quite good at expressing things!!
I feel like I'm scrabbling in the dirt trying to hang on to every last moment, desperate to try and hold on to time. But it keeps getting away from me and I don't know what to do about it. How many times can you say I love you? How many times are enough? When does it start getting old? Are those three words enough? I'll agree with Snow Patrol on this one that they sure aren't. Not for me, not in this situation, not to explain how I truly feel.
I guess the heart will never be able to fully articulate itself with words.
So here I am, with the person I adore most in the whole world, wondering how on earth I savour every last minute available to me with him. You see, I have no idea when I will see him again. It could be June, it could be September. And September is an awfully long way away. Despite time going really fast.
It feels like I can't tell him enough, can't let him understand fully enough how much I absolutely adore him. I can't let him know how emotionally desolate I would be without him. He means so much to me that I can't explain it. Which annoys me as usually I am quite good at expressing things!!
I feel like I'm scrabbling in the dirt trying to hang on to every last moment, desperate to try and hold on to time. But it keeps getting away from me and I don't know what to do about it. How many times can you say I love you? How many times are enough? When does it start getting old? Are those three words enough? I'll agree with Snow Patrol on this one that they sure aren't. Not for me, not in this situation, not to explain how I truly feel.
I guess the heart will never be able to fully articulate itself with words.
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