Some Small But (mostly) Beautiful Stories.

Sometimes I open a page here, to write a new blog post then sit, trying to find beautiful things to share with you.

I have this idea that we need so much beauty in these days.

I did find this beautiful story, told by Laurie Anderson, talking about the love she shared with Lou Reed, in Rolling Stone Magazine:

‘Lou and I played music together, became best friends and then soul mates, traveled, listened to and criticized each other’s work, studied things together (butterfly hunting, meditation, kayaking). We made up ridiculous jokes; stopped smoking 20 times; fought; learned to hold our breath underwater; went to Africa; sang opera in elevators; made friends with unlikely people; followed each other on tour when we could; got a sweet piano-playing dog; shared a house that was separate from our own places; protected and loved each other. We were always seeing a lot of art and music and plays and shows, and I watched as he loved and appreciated other artists and musicians. He was always so generous. He knew how hard it was to do. We loved our life in the West Village and our friends; and in all, we did the best we could do.

And the marvellous Maria Popova wrote: ‘14. Choose joy. Choose it like a child chooses the shoe to put on the right foot, the crayon to paint a sky. Choose it at first consciously, effortfully, pressing against the weight of a world heavy with reasons for sorrow, restless with need for action. Feel the sorrow, take the action, but keep pressing the weight of joy against it all, until it becomes mindless, automated, like gravity pulling the stream down its course; until it becomes an inner law of nature.

If Viktor Frankl can exclaim “yes to life, in spite of everything!” — and what an everything he lived through — then so can any one of us amid the rubble of our plans, so trifling by comparison. Joy is not a function of a life free of friction and frustration, but a function of focus — an inner elevation by the fulcrum of choice. So often, it is a matter of attending to what Hermann Hesse called, as the world was about to come unworlded by its first global war, “the little joys”; so often, those are the slender threads of which we weave the lifeline that saves us.’

Then someone called by, at this Manapouri house where I live, and after picking up the fridge Helen was giving away, he pulled a huge Rainbow Trout out of his backpack. It was in there with a Brown Trout too. He had caught 5. And so, that was my Labour Day Monday, seeing just how much I recalled of the Australian fly fisherman’s trout gutting and cooking lesson.

It worked. It is divine. I do love trout, baked - stuffed with onion and tomato, creating a divine juiceness.

Thank you for teaching me how to gut and cook trout, Rob Nabben.

the rainbow trout, and my french pocketful.jpg

And I dug out my French Laguiole pocket knife, from Thiers, France. Bought back in those days when the Belgian bloke and I were summer-holidaying there (in that town where they were making swords for knights 700 years ago). It turns out it is useful beyond the wine corkscrew option. It’s incredibly sharp, and quite a special little art work.

In other news, I recently joined the rest of the world, and discovered the music of Snow Patrol. I play them … a lot. Those who have lived with me, know what ‘a lot’ means. ‘More than most’ really. My favourite collection, currently, is Snow Patrol: LIve & Strpped Back at Porchester Hall.

I particularly love the way the lead singer, Gary Lightbody, says what he says in his story - beginning at about 3.10 minutes. I feel this could be a useful response to some of the silly people I find myself to listening to sometimes :-)

Much is happening, down here, in the south-west corner of New Zealand. Most particularly in my life. News will follow. I am currently caught up in chasing my own tail, and turning in giddy circles. Joy has been much more of a thing in my day-to-day life, and I believe I can claim I am heading towards the next grand adventure.

I think this is it for now,. New Zealand’s election went well, and we have Jacinda Adern, and the Labour party, in power. I am happy with this, as I see some of my most favourite folk going back into lockdown as Europe battles a resurgence of covid-19. My heart goes out to you all.

Much love from down here xx

Weaving A New Life ...

Fiordland Snow.jpg

This morning, I set out walking along the riverbank, continuing on, to the edge of Lake Manapouri. Alone, as always. The village only has a population of 200, and it was 8am, on a Friday.

Although a stranger did pass me by, as I sat on a high wooden bench, legs swinging, unable to touch the ground. His dog, Ruby, was joy-filled to find me … and up she hopped, onto the seat, next to me. And I laughed, matching her panting, licking, wriggling joy more sedately.

I am transition, again. But so many transitions that I am a little giddy, as people and places weave together in the most beautiful ways. Although, to be honest, there are also the moments, in the small hours of the night, when I worry myself into wondering if I can pull Every Single Thread together.

This time though, I’m not moving countries.

And this time, I have Snow Patrol for company.

I didn’t even think to dream the life that is coming together., here in New Zealand. I almost had it in Italy but always compromised by basing myself in Belgium, and living my life around a man who needed to stand still, to live in a particular way. And much as I loved him, for a while, we were impossible He knew it before I did.

There is so much news to follow …

Meanwhile, I am savoring the abundant beauty, so freely available, down here in the south-west corner of New Zealand.

a south coast beach.jpg