In this issue

1. Image of the Week

2. Introduction-A Dilemma and Covid-19

3. No Man is an Island-John Donne

4. On Sneaky Spring and Ruffed Ruffled Daffodils

5. Fevered Mind Links (to make your Sunday morning coffee go cold)

6. Bookends

Image of the week

Introduction

A Dilemma and Covid-19

I nearly didn't make it to the publishing start line this week.

For the last week, I have been alone, in a bubble of one, in a very dark space.

Let me explain. Some background first for those of you offshore.

We are still in lockdown here in Aotearoa, although at the moment, most of the country will drop a level at midnight this coming Tuesday (maybe), which means we can get about a bit, and some businesses will open. Unfortunately, Auckland, our largest city, along with the country north of it, will be in Level Four for at least another couple of weeks until the caseload drops. In less than a fortnight, we have gone from one case to 429. I know that sounds a tiny number to those of you overseas, but this is a big deal for Kiwis since we have enjoyed nearly a year of normal (!) life with no cases at all.

Our government is scrambling to vaccinate as many of us as possible with the Pfizer mRNA vaccine (our only choice). There are mass vaccination events right across the country. On Thursday, over 90 000 injections were given, which doesn't sound much but is enormous in a population of only 5 000 000.

Each week I have received texts, emails, and friendly calls from various health authorities asking me if I would like to be vaccinated. And, being the stubborn creature I am, I have refused. When friends have asked me directly, I have fudged my answers or been evasive or told the truth.

No, not yet.

Those who know me very well will know of my core spiritual beliefs and how my relationship with IO, the Creator, underpins everything I believe and therefore am, and what I believe is my life purpose. Frankly, these articles of faith are all that has kept me going in some tough times and (frequent) dark nights of the soul.

Until now, I have felt like a soldier at the Somme, crouched in a foxhole in No-Mans-Land, with the conspiracists on one side and the pro-vax cheerleaders on the other, all lobbing ordinance at each other. And I have continued to dig my foxhole deeper.

Finally, it came to a head this week. My nearest-and-dearest crept up, pulled the pin, counted to one (if that) and lovingly rolled a grenade in on me.

Are you a moral fanatic?

Ouch.

I don't know. Am I?

The darkness got darker.

Sometimes, when we search for the correct answer for us, it doesn't come directly from Source. Sometimes it comes through signs or conversations with others, which, if we are open, will show us what we need to see. Discernment is a core pou (pillar) of spiritual growth.

I decided to Phone a Friend, people whom I utterly trust. All of them told me of the choices they had made and why. Some were medical, others were spiritual, and yet others were moral.

Then one of my tuuahine (spiritual sisters), whose wisdom belies her years, put it this way:

As much as we might like to live the lives of our ancestors, we are here and now in the 21st century. So we have to find our own middle way. Whichever path you choose, there will be Fear and Peace. Life is about choice and consequences.

As I sat with the awareness of my own moral hypocrisy, the clouds began to lift gently.

Each morning, I stand barefoot on my Mothers stomach and connect to the mycelial network of the planet.

However, I am a human being and part of the neural network, which is humanity. So I have a part to play. And I cannot do it in a moral, physical and spiritual bubble.

To reinforce the message, the canny YouTube algorithm sent me a video by a Lakotan elder (link below in the Fevered Mind Section).

And the header quote for this section found me.

So, after much agonizing, I have made my choice. I have found my place of peace and fear.

And, while I know some whom I hold dear to my heart will excommunicate me for what I have chosen, I will have to live with that.

There is mahi (work) to do i te ao kikokiko (the material world).

No Man is an Island

'No Man is an Island

On Sneaky Spring and Ruffed Ruffled Daffodils

A number of you have hinted that you would like me to talk more about my picture-making process.

Here you are.

After being in a dark space and mood, it has not helped because it has been clodcold drear and gloomy here for a week. I was on my way down to the Four Square supermarket for supplies (well, ok...wine) when I saw them.

Very aware that @fujifilmNZ loaner XF 80/2.8 macro lens was lurking on one of my armchairs, sulking because I wasn't putting it to good (or indeed any) use, and conscious of the wero (challenge) AHM put down in front of me a couple of issues ago, I was looking for a reason for the season.

And there they were.

Daffodils.

Yes, they are plants easily taken for granted; however, nothing tells me more that Spring is here than daffodils. Just when you think Winter will be around forever, up they pop and flaunt themselves flamboyantly for a few weeks before sinking back underground for the rest of the year.

As I wrote a couple of posts ago, the photographic artist in me has been considering the world writ small and common plants for some months now. Not that daffodils are particularly humble. They have always struck me as the Elizabethan dandies of the plant world, primped and pouty and full of their own magnificence.

Now my own backyard is very uninspiring, so I slowed to a crawl and eyed them up and down. They nodded foppishly back.

I made a plan.

Daffodils fit right into an art-making issue I have wanted to revisit for some time.

How can I express the mauri (life force) of plants visually?

Specifically daffodils?

Making pictures for me these days is about following a train of thought. I am not really interested in making a pretty picture because I can. I need to have an idea to follow and work through.

My work tends to move in three-year cycles. But, after three years of the grand Fiordland landscape, I sensed that a change was in the wind. I suddenly found myself fascinated by the world of small plants.

In this case, I wanted to somehow reflect on the life cycle of this particular plant. For what does a daffodil do but lurk underground in bulbed darkness for most of the year, emerging for a brief time to pollinate and reproduce? The challenge is documenting that brief moment of triumph and fulfilment of purpose in its annual circle around the sun.

How can I document the Is-ness of a daffodil?

And conscious that they lined the centre island of our main street, would I get into trouble if I took a few on a tour of the town- to my home? To my place.

I drove quietly downtown early the following morning when no one was around (actually, under lockdown, that is pretty much the case all day long) and kidnapped a randomly selected half-dozen.

For two days, I have sat there, studying them in different lights and at different times of the day, tuning my seeing and looking ever more closely.

Then yesterday, I set up a small mini-studio using a portable LED light which allows me to choose the intensity and colour temperature. Finally, I moved it around them, watching how it created a translucent effect on the flowers.

Then I set to work. I have a love/hate relationship with my tripod and, wherever possible, prefer to work handheld. The IBIS (in-body image stabilisation) allows me to do just this. It allows me to follow my intuition.

According to Adobe Lightroom, I made 393 exposures in this session, varying lighting and framing with each shot. Then I picked this one for further work because it felt right.

I think that bodies of work grow outwards as spirals. First, there is an idea or a single image that prompts a line of enquiry. Then I follow that line outwards, exploring and adding to the narrative. The skeleton takes on flesh and form until it is complete and, finally, the idea is resolved.

And then you move on to the next idea.

As I was completing this section, I heard a gentle cough. The dock (possibly the most humble of plants) that began this line of enquiry wanted to be included.

So here you are.

Fevered Mind Links (to make your Sunday morning coffee go cold)

RUSSEL MEANS — www.youtube.com

Russell Means was an Oglala Lakota and one of the most vocal activists for the rights of the Indigenous People of America. He was also an actor and the first director of the American Indian Movement. This message was recorded in 1993 and echos louder and clearer than ever before. We must listen with

The self is not singular but a fluid network of identities — aeon.co

Who am I? We all ask ourselves this question, and many like it.

Why it took us thousands of years to see the colour violet — psyche.co

As a schoolboy in Soviet Russia in the 1960s, my hands were almost never clean. Don’t get me wrong – I washed them as much as anyone else. But the school rules made us practise our penmanship in ink, which came in violet.

The wisdom of fungi — www.nzgeo.com

Unlimited access to every NZGeo story ever written and hundreds of hours of natural history documentaries on all your devices. Already a subscriber? Sign in

Why You Need to Protect Your Sense of Wonder — Especially Now — hbr.org

We may be slowly returning to our offices (more or less), but the strains of the pandemic are hardly over. As we enter a transitional stage after a year of trauma and strain, more than ever we need ways to refresh our energies, calm our anxieties, and nurse our well-being.

Lentil Soup Recipe with Parmesan and Smoked Sausage — www.thewickednoodle.com

A lentil soup recipe that is incredibly easy to make, very healthy yet filled with amazing flavor. Indulge a little by adding sausage! It’s that time of the year again when healthy eating pledges are right around the corner.

Our Mysterious, Magnificent Moon: A Lunar Reading List — getpocket.com

Get to know our nearest celestial neighbor a little bit better with this curated guide, including what Moon rocks are still teaching us, how craters are named, and what the future holds for lunar exploration.

Bookends

Harikoa/Joy

There is a minor cause for celebration here.

I began writing this paanui/newsletter with 160 subscribers. Today we reached 200 of you who are tuning in.

Be warned: it will only encourage me.

My gratitude for checking in on what happens here. And I am sooo grateful to those of you who are coming along.

I feel a chardonnay coming on. (Actually, I could down a Speyside single malt or Makers Mark bourbon right now, but the local Bottle-O remains firmly closed). But, ah, the tribulations of lockdown.

Every week I look forward to the emails which come in afterwards and to e-chatting with you.

Phone/Messenger/Signal/Teams is good too.

And, of course, if there is stuff you would like to be writing about, then do let me know.

A big shoutout to each of you!

He mihi arohaa nunui ki a koutou.

Much love to you all