I Have This Friend ... this magical wild woman whom I adore.

Pippa popped up on my Facebook wall, after we'd been chatting over there.  She wrote, and her words melted my funny little Kiwi heart.  She had written me a poem.   Memories from long ago during that first divorce of mine. 

We used to talk for hours back then.  Epic talks.  And beach-walks with that beautiful Labrador of mine - still much missed.  We talked wise woman talk ... tough but so good.  So clear.  That's the 'shit' she talks of .. .the times when we almost derailed our friendship.  Crying or laughing. then simply talking our way back to being comrades, sisters, best friends forever.

She wrote:

Hey Di... miss you as always... just about to retire for the night. But our little conversation here tonight sparked me. So here is a wee gift for you... of course I haven't edited, so rough as always, but from the heart. Love you xxx

Who wouldn't love her right back.  I'll even forgive her reference to that time, while moving a mattress, it collapsed under me as I leaned on it.  She almost died laughing as I face-planted on the shag pile carpet.  My head bounced off the floor on impact!!! 

(Fortunately some red wine may have been consumed.)

If I'd died ...!!  I told her.  Later.  After the laughter had stopped convulsing her body, the laughter that had rendered her speechless.

(She couldn't have called an ambulance.  I swear it.  I would have just died ... there on the floor. with her laughing too hard to give the address.)

How we laughed, back then, in the land of long ago.

Her poem ...

DI

Couldn’t resist
Sorry e hoa
To share such a rampant line:
Delicious as red-wine face-planting mattress-miss
Singing along
To magic music
Veins running red

Life-saving walks on beaches
Dog like abandon
Almost rolling in our own shit
To come out clean
Conversations shredding our lives
From before conception
And beyond limits

Dreaming outrageous dreams
That have come true
Faltered
Disintegrated
To make room for the exquisite chaos
Of life

Before death claims me
I know without doubt
I have lived!
Fearless
And fearful
In spite of
Because of

I will die a complete woman
Defeated, humiliated
To arise
Phoenix-like
To seize the dawn before anyone else is awake

Your smile, our clowning, stumbling shared
Moments
Brilliant jewels in the kaleidoscope
Of my life

Nicolas Maurice.com

Traveling back from London last week, I caught the Eurostar ... that train that travels under the English Channel.  I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it. 

But I was fortunate.  My traveling companion, by chance, was a lovely French guy called Nicolas Maurice. And he was kind enough to chat with me, patiently answering my questions and putting up with me all the way back to his world.  The time sped by and the 20 minutes down in the tunnel was barely noticed by me.

I was curious about his work, most specifically his Masters project.  Over on his website he has written, 'This is a reflexion on memory, virtuality, materiality, relationality and the construction of identity. It is the building of a three dimensional map of the neighborhood of my childhood as I remember it, departing from my writing practice, placing memories in space and letting them shape its structure. It is also an experiment in using computer graphics’ techniques and 3D softwares as a raw material, entering a dialogue with its digital nature, constraints limitations and possibilities. '

But more than that, he explained complex ideas in a ways that opened them up.  Somewhere along the way, it occurred to me that I would have enjoyed sharing my classes with him, back when I was studying comparative literature.

It ended up being a most delightful journey.  You can view his work on his website.  The short movies, his commercial work, and his photography.

Thank you, Nicolas Maurice. 

Saying Goodbye ...

I remember ... trying to be too much in the world or, perhaps, of the world while my dog companion of so many years was dying.

I had Sandie for 15 years.  She was old for a long time and she was a soul-mate of mine.  One of the best.  I carried her on and off our beloved beaches for another year after she couldn't walk up and down the dunes or along those pathways that led to the sea.

Perhaps I kept her alive too long, I really don't know but I still remember the day the vet 'put her to sleep'.  Sandie dog wasn't ready.  Nor was I. 

I had been planning to bury her alone but I arrived at my Dad's, my dog dead in my arms, crying so hard that I couldn't speak.

Dad said, 'Oh Annie', and then he set to work, digging a massive hole, deep into the clay under his vegetable garden, while I sat there with Sandie dog in my arms.  I wrapped her up in my big old woollen jersey then Dad and I said goodbye to her.

She was my best friend ... for a very long time.

I loved this story of Denali.  So much.

There's no easy way to say goodbye to a friend, especially when they've supported you through your darkest times. Made possible by Patagonia Generous support from: First Descents, Ruffwear and Snow Peak In order of appearance: Ben Moon & Denali Producer: Ben Moon // Moonhouse Directed / edited / written: Ben Knight // Felt Soul Media DP: Skip Armstrong // Wazee Motion Pictures Second Camera: Page Stephenson Co-Writer: Katie Klingsporn Wet Camera: Justin Harris Sound Recordist: Jim Hurst Music Supervisor: Ben Knight and Chris Parker Sound Mix: Justin Harris Narrated by: Ben Knight Music by: Chihei Hatakeyama, Images of a Broken Light — www.chihei.org Music by: Odesza, It's Only [feat. Zyra] In Return, www.odesza.com, courtesy of Counter Records 2014 Still Photographs by: Ben Moon, Lisa Hensel, Carli Davidson, Miranda Moon, Vivian Moon, Jean Redle Dawn Kish, Lisa Skaff, Pete Rudge, Kristen & Ian Yurdin, and John Sterling




Two Beautiful Souls ...

What matters the most is that you’re doing something to make the world a better place. And you have to believe in this. It’s important… you think with your eyes, and that’s all the world asks you to do.

– Camille Lepage, July 26th, 2013.

Christena Dowsett is a remarkable woman, I follow her blog and make that statement based on what I've read over there.

Christena writes things like this, of time spent with her friend, Camille Lepage:

Our last night together, we closed down the bar by talking with the Maasai guards who were there. It was quite a sight to behold. She and I and six Massai dressed in full traditional clothing. We must have talked for an equal number of hours. I remember how intently she asked them questions, about their culture, their families, if leaving their loved ones behind for work was hard. She asked nothing that would relate back to her. She was intent on knowing them inside their own context.

Meanwhile I was asking questions like, “How do you guys feel about tourists and white people in general?”

She looked outward for her questions. I looked inward.

I sat and listened most of the night. I watched her. And learned from her how to learn from people.

Earlier that day she told me, “You need to not see them as different. See them the way they see themselves. Show them as if they were white. You need to look at them as if they were your brothers. Stop thinking about you, you have to think about them.”

And this post, titled The Bag-less Lady, made me smile. 

These women, the photographs, Camille's legacy kept alive by her friend ... they're so important.