A N G E L
(4th march 2004)

up in the back garden
collecting some herbs
and the sunlight came thru the clouds.....

i am here
in this moment
in this sunlight
up on the bank after the days
of icey coldness

i am like the flame
burning centre
in the mosaic
pink glass house
i am here
standing solid
in this storm

finding a peace
that for so long seemed
forgotten
lost but not forgotten

and its amazing what it takes
to break the ice
its amazing what it takes
to crack the glass

its amazing how much
perseverence courage
to break thru a pattern

i am here in this moment
in this evening light

standing alone here in a space that ive created

loving that space
loving the silence
loving the nothing
loving the choices
loving the freedom

and its amazing what it takes to
change your mind
its amazing what it takes to
begin to become aligned
amazing the
break thrus that
happen in time

listen in the silence for the angels
listen thru the clearing thru the spaces
feel the way their wings are holding you
feel the love their kisses are sending you
feel all your worries just
slip away
feel how in the silence
you can see again.....

well as for inspiration
it is my life
really and nothing but...
i dream
alot
but my life is so vivid
all of it just autobiographical

En ce qui concerne mon inspiration
C’est ma vie
Et rien d’autre...
Je rêve
Beaucoup
Mais ma vie est si chatoyante
Tout n’est qu’autobiographie.

Angel

another of those moments of feeling my freedom as an artist as a human being of being so grateful to be alive
to be alone and to create my own life
what an amazing thing that is
and

Angel

Un autre de ces moments où j’ai ressenti ma liberté d’artiste, d’être humain si reconnaissant d’être en vie, d’être seul, démiurge de ma propre existence
Quelle sensation extraordinaire...

Traduction Cécile Guermerlian & Julia Musté-Marchand

W H I T E
(15th january 2004 island bay)

island bay
under the red pohutakawa tree
mandalay
and sketchy pink
still cloud
and sky

a piece of your bread in my lap

all this junk and pain that keeps coming up
just another layer to uncover that precious jewel of stillness within

white pearl of still mind

and
the edelweiss
flowers
growing
symmetrically
in the cracks
on the ocean bed...

White

after a dream of seeing deep below the ocean bed growing in the bed of sand
white perfect flowers
beneath all the muck there is beauty
purity
beneath the clouds of emotion...

White

Après un rêve où j’ai vu, très profond sous le lit de l’océan, pousser dans le sable
Des fleurs blanches, parfaites
Sous toute vase, la beauté
Pureté
Derrière les nuées de l’émotion...

Traduction Cécile Guermerlian & Julia Musté-Marchand

O P E N S T R I N G
(11th november 2003)

this is the sound of an open string
this is the sound of an open string
this is the sound of emotional freedom
this is the sound of an open string

this is the sound
of what its like to be
free
to love another
not only you

open string

this is the sound of my heart opening

this is the sound of an open string
this is the sound of what its like to sing
the sound of emotional freedom
open string

Open String

is about really feeling emotional freedom from someone
i really was attachced too
and when that can go there is a freedom
not that it always lasts but
to feel it was amazing

Open String

Evoque un profond sentiment de libération émotionnelle
Libération d’une personne à laquelle j’étais liée
Et lorsque cela arrive Il y a liberté
Non pas que cela dure toujours
Mais ce ressenti était extraordinaire.

Traduction Cécile Guermerlian & Julia Musté-Marchand

W I L L O W P A T T E R N
(wellington june-july 2003)

the sea is like a wall he said
lovers card on willow pattern
my old life is like this she said
lovers card on willow pattern

and theres an old man on a fishing boat
coming in from the island
life doesnt change much on this coastline
cold southerly blows away the debris

(evan talking
"do you like bubbles"

"love bubbles"
"its very bubbly"
"look sophie some bubble came on the playdoh")

that glass is made of glittering stars
lovers card on willow pattern
"the rain is very noisy on the footpath"
lovers card on willow pattern

"wanna make a dinasour with me"

and we're watching the lights come on in this little town
from our hideaway on the hilltop we can see everyone
..... so excited by this new sound
baby bo holds her tighter than shes ever known
little fingers clenching
little
mouth
sucking....
nipple
breast
hair
fingers..

old cafes soft wool black kelp fires burning
lovers card on willow pattern
rock roses - stick insects- paua shells - t-lights- rosemary
(brown paper packages)
lovers card on willow pattern

and shes watching the boats crossing in the nite
from her hideaway at the top of the stairs
she can see the fairy lights
she is safe here she is unknown kept from the storm
she can stay here for ever

she has no tools yet to let him let him go
the lonliness of his passion
she will soon be gifted a camera
pleasure for ever
gifts of being alone
lovers card on willow pattern

and her paper caught on fire as she was writing
so beautiful in that decision
and its so good to see these things of beauty
in front of me

once more

and youre so beautiful in that decision
all rosy cheeked and luminescent
and its so good to see these things of beauty
in front of me

the sea is like a wall he said
lovers card on willow pattern
my old life is like this she said
lovers card on willow pattern

Willow Pattern

was the song i wrote when i arrived in wellington after 12 years of not being here
about my life about leaving letting go of old life about a woman whose children i looked after
very beautiful dutch woman and her babies
evan and aimee and bo
who i used to feed by bottle and i felt like i was suckling him
makes a woman want a child you know..this feeling wellington and my old freinds here
william who said the line
"the sea is like a wall"
we would go for long walks by the wild ocean at nite and the sea is so dark and wild out there
on a cold nite
i would go home to my grandmothers house to
be with her
a woman who has lived her 85 years
with no tv and no washing maching for clothes an old hand ringer in the laundry and the radio for company
and i was sleeping in the top room where my father grew up and its opposite the wild ocean and its all dark here just stars and the big boats cross between the islands north and south all nite and i would wake up and see their fairy lights on the water
very magical
and coming back to my home to these things of simplicity
to sand and cats eyes shells and
the paua shells
on the beach and ther wild rosemary and
the crazy stick insects they have here
these simple beautiful things
which i forgot about in my past troubled life

Willow Pattern

...est la chanson que j’ai écrite à mon retour à Wellington après douze ans d’absence
A propos de ma vie A propos du départ Abandon de l’existence ancienne
A propos d’une femme dont j’ai gardé les enfants
Une très belle hollandaise et ses enfants
Evan et Aimee et Bo
A qui je donnais le biberon et que j’avais l’impression de nourrir au sein
Cela vous donne envie d’avoir un enfant, cette sensation…
Wellington et mes vieux amis de là-bas
William qui a dit : « La mer est comme un mur »
On partait souvent pour de longues promenades au bord de l’océan indompté la nuit. La mer est si sombre et si sauvage là-bas
Par nuit froide
Je rentrais chez ma grand-mère pour être à ses côtés
Une femme qui avait passé ses quatre-vingt-cinq années
Sans télévision Sans machine à laver Une vieille lessiveuse dans la buanderie et la radio pour toute compagnie
Je dormais dans la chambre du haut, là où mon père a grandi, face à l’océan sauvage. Tout est si sombre ici, rien que les étoiles et les grands bateaux qui traversent entre les îles du Nord au Sud toute la nuit. Je me réveillais et je voyais leurs lueurs enchantées sur l’eau, c’était féerique.
Rentrer à la maison, vers ces choses simples, vers le sable et les coquillages en œil de chat et les Pauas sur la plage, le romarin sauvage, et ces longs insectes déments qu’ils ont ici…
Ces choses simples et magnifiques
Que j’ai oubliées dans les bouleversements de mon existence passée.

Traduction Cécile Guermerlian & Julia Musté-Marchand

Peinture par Ushan Boyd, photos 3 et 5 par Danny Khoo, 6 et 8 par David Chamla, 1, 4 et 7 par Claire Berchet.