—–

what’s a voice without a song
something in your head
metric – raw sugar

—–

kakanui

the beach is empty in my dreams,
we stopped there once, two friends and I,
them for the surf and me for the beach

I remember that beach, standing on the grass
looking down to the waves breaking in the soft dusty light
everything is quiet around.

when I go to sleep I think of that beach,
still empty and quiet
peaceful in the evening light.

—–

i said,
i know it well
bon iver – blood bank

—–

the author

i am the author.

and i write the beginnings in my memories,
i write the memories in my head.

i am the curator.

and i gather the pictures, the smells, the sounds
and keep them for another day.

i dreamt of an art gallery i designed by myself, for myself,
and then i realised that it already existed.

it existed in my head.

I wrote your goodbye as a fade out,
because I think that songs ending by fading out is cheating:

I don’t think you’d like it if you knew

but it’s my story and I decide,
and anyway, you don’t know.

you faded and I walked
in the opposite direction, down the street

in my dreams.

—–

—–

title from phoenix – lassoo

—–

i remembered what it was
to play
to play
to play
owen pallett – the man with no ankles

—–

unplanned events conspire

there were three events, each separately
nothing much
but laid together like three dominos matching end to end,
in retrospect you can do that.

the first was the apron you made
getting some love in the kitchen, and this weekend I washed it
by hand to keep the fabric nice,
and I hung it up to dry inside
and each time I walked past it I thought of you.

the second was the news that came with a shock
part of my normal every day routine, a contributor
to a sunny day – mr. good morning,
we will all have to adjust but
it still hasn’t hit me yet.

the last was the rain
after a day of clouds covering up the sun
great grey whales in the sky
the rain came this evening, soft and gentle down the windows
out across the harbor I see the lights.

All three together end to end are a cycle
today was a reminder of the fragility of life
the blessing of life
and the privilege
we have to call this earth home.

—–

—–

I hope that you all have been well,
take a moment this evening to be grateful
for your life and your loved ones -
they are precious.

namaste

—–

title from so long, frank lloyd wright – simon & garfunkel

—–

and when her spirit left her body
how it split the sun
i know that she will live forever
all goes on and on and on
neutral milk hotel – ghost

—–

things lately..

. . .baking bread, pizza dough, hot cross buns and a banana cake on rainy sundays

. . .eating organically thanks to my flatmate’s influence (no more supermarket!)

. . .catching up with family and friends at the weekend

. . .getting back into science with experiments and papers

. . .planning a holiday away for easter

. . .i’ve been a little uninspired recently, hence the hiatus .. but things have been ticking along..

—–

welcome to khajuraho,

where the trains come twice a week,
where the bikes to hire all have something a little bit wrong with them,
where the marble shines in the sunshine at the top of the mountain,
where the lake is so smooth and still as the sun sets,
where there is no power in the middle of the day,
where there is no power whenever you want to check your emails,
where men paint the yellow and black curbs by hand,
where young boys carry milk home in the morning for their mother,
where the temples, with such detail and destruction, surround
where someone had the good sense to ban rickshaws in the centre of town,
where the sun shines, as it always does in India,
and all is calm.
I like it here.

—–

i am with you
and the stars are crashing through
the pains of being pure at heart – everything with you

—–

we’ll find our own way home
somehow
the editors – papillon

—–

the fairytale was climbing up
a mountain far too steep
calm like you – the last shadow puppets

—–

i need to find out for myself
but after all that’s only natural
the price of winter – the amazing pilots

—–

but I want to know
burn down the mysteries
delorean – stay close

—–

yeah I can tell
there’s a ghost in the room
the ballad of gus and sam – ferraby lionheart

—–

—–

the lion and the tadpole

she was a lion because she wore gold and red and warm colours
and because she was strong
one of the strongest people I knew.

he was a tadpole because his legs haven’t properly formed
and because he swam away
didn’t look back.

the lion sits on my shoulders and roars her support when
things go well,
when I win.

the tadpole swims in a pond far away
I don’t know,
maybe his limbs finally grow.

the lion is my friend
the tadpole is gone.

—–

title from iron and wine – naked as we came

—–

sad girl,
don’t lose your faith
the brian jonestown massacre – spun

—–

I was walking to work this morning as the sun was rising in the sky, casting a golden light over the harbour. The top of my street is up quite a high hill and I like that – I looked down over all the buildings leading into town. Everything was quiet, and seemed new, like stationery does at the beginning of each year. It was a new beginning, the start of a new time.
The cold air filled my lungs and woke me up,
and I walked toward the sunshine and down the hill to start.

—–

when you’ve seen the light
and you’ve been everywhere
you go, you go
neil young – off the road

—–

boats and kites – varanasi

in Varanasi there were many kites flying in the sky. it reminded us of ‘the kiterunner’.

dust in the sky, kites flying in the breeze, boats passing on the water.

many people travel to varanasi to pass away.
it is a widely held belief that varanasi is where the ganges meets the heavens.

people who die, unless they are children, pregnant women or sick with the plague, are cremated
at ghats located on the banks of the ganges.
after, their ashes are sprinkled in the water.

street food in varanasi
tiny crowded streets
motorbike horns
masala dosa plus cigarette butt
the best lassi in india

it was in varanasi where
i saw a body burning.

unexpectedly we came to a ghat
after sunset when fires were burning
covered bodies carried to the shore

i saw a body burning
the flames leaping and crackling
death and life reclaimed
exchanged

i thought about the end
and I wondered.

a man building boats
a man selling beads

we sit by the ganga for a time
sipping chai

people watching has never been
so interesting.

—–

words from india

in varanasi, it gets so warm during the day.
everyone sweats beneath the layers of cloth covering their shoulders and knees.
i write, sitting on a stone step outside an internet cafe, wearing too many clothes.
flies land on me often, and opposite me sits an old man with a bandaged ankle
and a catheter bag.
he gives me a nod when i sit down and that is all.
I can hear rickshaw engines, bicycle bells,
and snatches of hindi I can’t understand.

last night I saw a body burning.
it had been burning for a while, and the cotton covering had burned away.
what was left was a blazing fire and a man’s skull burning.
The heat of the fire silences my words and warms my cheeks.
bodies are burned continuously we are told.
I feel strangely alone despite the company right next to me,
confronted by life ending.
we see another body, carried by loved ones, come down to the water
to be burned too. I am silenced by witnessing
the end of life
so openly and unexpectedly.

As I watch, somebody’s bones
turn to ashes.

—–

title from wilco – open mind

—–

you’re so far
from wanting to say
something good
belle & sebastian – sunday’s pretty icons

—–

a chai (and boat) shop in varanasi
no problem madam
can’t tell you how many times I heard those words..

—–

since being home I’ve been feeling a little out of sorts.
at first I thought it was just because I wasn’t well and needed to recover:
I’m terrible at recovering..patience is not a virtue of mine.

but then I realised it was more than physically feeling strange, low on energy,
out of sorts.

I’d walk into town to meet a friend and wonder at all the people wearing corporate clothes
looking stressed in the face and marching down the busy streets.
some would be talking on their phones.

none were really smiling or noticing
the white clouds hanging from the blue sky.

they all just looked straight ahead,
straight through me
and, without smiling, walked back inside their airconditioned offices.

—–

the time didn’t make a ripple
it’s just that simple
wilco – it’s just that simple

—–

now, back in dunedin,
back in my place,
I’m feeling more settled, ready for the year ahead.
I have new colours in my hair,
a new place to live
(which comes complete with a piano in the lounge, bonus)
a plan for my research,
a handed in form (more about that later)
a wedding to celebrate
and lots of reasons to smile.

—–

wandering anew

most of the time i wander alone
insist on it, actually, to
avoid distraction, unsolicited opinions
to avoid disruption of my thoughts.

on a sunny january day this pattern is
changed, and i find myself joined
accompanied, in my wanderings, by you
someone who almost never doesn’t surprise me.

usually i would get a little inwardly irate
if i were wandering and somebody pointed out
something i’d missed. i would sigh silently and
not say anything in reply. but you do and I don’t mind.

what you suggest is as perfect as sights whilst wandering
can be, and i follow subconsciously. the words and the colours
are similar to the art i dream of one day being capable of.
i am confused as to how you could possibly know this.

you listen whenever words fall out of my mouth
and your replies are considered. i appreciate that.
i listen too, to the rhythm of what you say and inwardly
i’m surprised by the number of perspectives we share.

and so i decide that while I’ll always enjoy
solitary wandering, it is not so bad to have company.
particularly when the poems are interesting, the afternoon is
clear and sunny, and the company is yours.

—–

varanasi, january 20, 2012

—–

i am nearly ready to write some posts about india – my journal,
photos, and thoughts have not been organised.. but with the return
of a normal daily routine, you can expect them soon.

—–

title from haruki murakami’s dance dance dance – i highly recommend reading it
if you haven’t yet.

—–

and the air is full of promises
well buddy
you’ve been warned
nick cave – let love in

—–

sometimes life pulls a fast one on you and deals cards that
spell a really, really big week.

two weeks ago, I would’ve thought that I would
currently be travelling to the south of India,
from Hampi down to the warm state of Kerala
to spend some days centered around yoga at an ashram,
before travelling home.

actually, I’m home now.
A dose of bad luck saw me and my maharani
(travelling companion; literal translation: queen)
admitted to hospital in Varanasi for three days
with dysentery, the type where you need 7 litres
of fluid to rehydrate you..
I can honestly say I’ve never felt so sick in my life.

I also got bacterial cellulitis in both my forearms, an infection
from not using aseptic technique
causing essentially unusable and rather painful forearms;
arthritis in my right wrist (temporary),
and a chest infection.
so even though I really didn’t want to leave India,
it was a good move coming home for some
New Zealand medical attention.

In one week I went from loving travelling life in India,
to recovering back at home in New Zealand
with a long list of important things to sort out,
and not a huge amount of energy to sort them all.

But I’m getting better each day.

One of my favourite things to do has been to sort through the thousands
(literally, thousands)
of pictures I took in India. and while that’s been
bittersweet, it’s also reminded me of
all the things I saw, the things I experienced,
and most importantly, of all the wonderful people I met.

Most of all, from India, I miss masala chai, dahl,
speaking and hearing and trying to learn hindi,
and the welcoming nature, sense of humour, and calm pace
of many of the Indian people I was fortunate enough to meet.

You know you’ve found a genuine person when you’re shopping and the shop owner
offers you a seat and asks you if you’d like some chai
(the answer is always yes).

I don’t miss conversations about cricket, something
I have little interest in
(my brothers and dad sigh)
but when you answer “where from madam?” with
New Zealand,
the answer is often
“very nice country…very good cricket…you like cricket?”

I don’t miss the pollution,
and I never want to take the comparatively clear air
in New Zealand for granted ..

but already I find myself forgetting how much I have,
how simple life was over there,
and how simple it can be;
and how lucky I am to be able to drink
water, clean and clear water,
straight from the tap.

I just look through some pictures and then I remember,
and am grateful.

—–

a boy from a village in the thar desert, near khuri, who followed me around for about twenty minutes
and just stared.
25.12.11

—–

the woman in pink has just come and filled the pot on her head with water from the tap
in the foreground. Pushkar, late afternoon
4.01.2012

—–

you can expect to see more pictures and read more stories from India over the coming months
there are almost too many to tell at the moment,
but in time I’ll share them with you.

—–

title from belle & sebastian – expectations

being in india,
i find i am thinking so much
so freely
of life and love and hopes and dreams

and I find the rhythm of chaos and peace,
getting up with the sun
and sleeping when its dark
soothing.

I have seen so much, travelled great distances
in the past three weeks
and I’m feeling ready to slow it down a little

this country is so huge,
it’s easy to get caught up with wanting to see it all,
to go everywhere

but it’s impossible.
Already I would like to return to places I’ve spent time in,
already I can see another trip forming
in my mind.

—–

I am in pushkar at the moment,
a small place surrounded by a lake
a place of spiritual significance to hindus.

it reminds me of home,
and I think of people back at home a lot here.

I think of people who I just miss too,
and I see them
around me, in the birds that perch on the ghat roofs,
in the cows that wander the streets.

so even though I’m far away,
I don’t feel
so far away,
because love really does cross oceans.

—–

this picture was taken on the first of january, watching the sunrise from a temple on the lake in udaipur. if you click on it you can see some more pictures taken in udaipur through my facebook page.

—–

title from simon & garfunkel – flowers never bend with the rainfall

—–

hello there from india.

i write on a strange computer in an even stranger ‘hotel’
in the beautiful desert city of jodhpur, india.

we have been in india 12 days
but it feels like far longer.

we’ve travelled from dehli to bikaner
by overnight sleeper train,
to jaisalmer,
into the desert by camel,
and then by train to jodhpur.
tomorrow we go to udaipur.

despite this travel and nomadic living,
we’ve found peace in pockets of each city and village we’ve visited,

the incredible quiet of the desert

the havens on the rooftops of 500 year old buildings

despite the dust, the dirt, and the smells,
there is a sense of peace here
from the hindi greeting ‘namaste’
to the chanting and singing from temples
we simply stumble across.

we have met so many people,
some so kind, others working the tourist industry
and not quite so kind.

my routine in new zealand has melted away so that while I think
of all the people I love there,
I don’t miss them too much – just think of them and know
they’ll be having fun wherever they are,
whatever they’re doing,
just like I am.

I think back a year,
reflect on 2011,
and while I am looking forward to farewelling
2011
and welcoming the new year and the surprises it is
certain to bring,
i feel amazed at how much I’ve grown this year.
If someone had said to me,
this time next year you’ll be in India
I would’ve never believed them.

I wish you a happy new year,
and hope that 2012 brings happiness and adventures to you all.

namaste,

georgi

—–

i probably don’t need to tell you that the title is from my song of 2011
neutral milk hotel – in the aeroplane over the sea

—–

this family we met on the local train from bikaner to jaisalmer. they were so lovely.
here clare is showing them pictures of her mother.
the woman gave me one of her rings before she got off the train, which
I’ve worn ever since.

It’s strange to think I will probably never see them again.

—–

that means the beginning of the end
between the last in the line of an emotional time
m ward – stars of leo

—–

this last crazy week has involved
time spent with my dad, moving house and sharing curry,
time spent with my brother who so kindly drove me where I needed to go,
and packed up his car with all my things,
a successful wisdom tooth extraction and some dissolvable stitches
pain and painkillers and antibiotics
feeling not quite like myself because of all these things
(the first codeine made me rather giggly)
however, only one more day of antibiotics,
some more warm salty washes and antiseptic washes
not taking so many pills
soon I’ll be back to chewing again.

and now I am in wanaka and it is the beginning
of my two and a half month holiday
despite all the thoughts swirling around in my head
and the numerous to-do lists I still write,
i stood in lake wanaka today listening to hirini melbourne’s
forest and ocean
I thought about this country I call my home,

and i felt a sense of peace settle in my head
as I looked to the mountains, blue with grey clouds hanging over them
almost melting in
I realised
I am ready to leave.

—–

a few images to part on ..

“laughter really is the best medicine” – C.S. 2011

“what you love doing is whatever you do even when you are the most distracted” – S.S. 2011

above picture shows a sign I saw at occupy auckland.
people who are reading who know me in real life probably won’t need me to say that
this quote truly resonates with me
(and I’ll freely admit I just had to google william james to discover who he was)
for those of you who don’t know me in real life – now you do know!

—–

i began this post almost two days ago now ..
and here I find myself preparing to leave my home for a while
it’s a big thing for me
in my head is andre bocelli
tiiiiime toooooo say goooodbyeee
(that memory is for my  family .. as I think I remember
my grandad martin singing this down the phone to my parents the morning
we left for france when I was seven and my two brothers five and two).

I feel open minded, ready,
and a little apprehensive.

to my friends and family in new zealand and around the world,
know I will think of you all a lot,
most likely every day – the first thing when I wake up,
and the last thing when I sleep..

to those people who will understand the next sentence:
I can stand up by myself on a slackline!!!!!!

and to everyone else reading – you lovely commenters who have
kept me going in ways you might not be aware of this year
thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind words.
and of course you silent readers who simply read my words,
i am grateful to you also.

see you in
two thousand and twelve
if not before.

—–

title from iron & wine – naked as we came

—–

gonna take her
for a ride on a big jet plane
angus & julia stone

—–

whenever i am going too fast my body reminds me to slow down.
slow, slow, slow
take it easy..

..it happened this time with a wisdom tooth,
which came out of my gums and swelled up my jaw on saturday morning
dad and i moved my stuff.
it was lots of car loads, lots of lifting
but as I lay down that night, feeling some new muscles
i realised i’ve become used to moving.
i’ve moved five times in the last five years.
it’s not unusual, it’s the life of a student in this town i live in.

on monday morning i visited three dentists whose receptionists were
patronising, telling me it was christmas soon,
and that they had nothing until “next week at least”
it was almost funny to tell them i was going to india on monday.

the fourth dentist was the complete opposite.
i made two appointments for the following two days
and tomorrow morning my tooth will be surgically extracted
and then I will heal.

I was interested to see my x ray,
and i’ve had oral surgery before under a local anaesthetic
so I know what to expect – although the oral surgery
didn’t involve bone..

i’m making a playlist for tomorrow morning. some angus & julia stone, the
amélie sountrack (especially comptine d’un autre été) and some sígur rós ..
.. my comfort music.

 —–

i made croutons last week.. it’s a little bit funny to write about croutons when you’re
not able to chew food, but i made them.

i had nice bread going stale. so i let it go more stale. to do that you put it in paper or somewhere dry
mould will grow if there’s moisture.
when it’s good and dry, cut it into squares.

mine was ciabatta that was sliced into sandwich slices by a machine slicer (don’t ask).
it went stale so fast.. and then i cut it into vague squares, threw out any bits growing mould.

line a tray with baking paper. put croutons on top and a tiny tiny amount of rice bran oil. maybe 2 teaspoons for my pan full. you may even omit the oil, i just felt unsure about not having some there.
add whatever you can find in your pantry.
i added mustard seeds, vencat curry mix and cumin. so they were indian inspired croutons
(not my intention, just turned out that way).

spread them all around to mix the spices a little.

use a cool oven, 130-150˚C for 8 to 20 minutes. the variation in temperature and times
is just to do with your oven. i popped them in for about 12 minutes while I was making mushrooms to eat with them.

I also had a ripe avocado, some mushrooms that needed cooking, and a bread roll. and thus dinner out of using up perishables in my flat cupboard ..

 —–

title from simon & garfunkel – mrs robinson

—-

ps. i’m doing well.
please avoid sharing your own wisdom teeth stories
with me, until this time in a week. I am managing the pain by medicating it minimally (as that is what i do)
and by distracting myself with blogs and music and people.
i have super lovely friends – everyone has offered me help which is so nice
driving me to and from the dental surgery, driving me home from work, bringing me ginger beer..
and tomorrow my brother is here. then to wanaka, then to india.
i’m focussing on that.

—–