Nature's hand-writing

I'm writing this from misty, moody Marlborough Sounds - in front of me, deep, dark water, hectares of dense native bush, baches clinging to hills that rise above an intricately curving coastline. We really do live in paradise. 

My Q of B exhibition is up and open and doing what it must at this stage - enjoying being in the company and custodianship of The Arthouse team, finding its own voice and communicating independently of me. The days around the hanging and opening were rich and connected and it's time now to trust in the new conversations that will arise out of this chapter. Some time in the next wee, a podcast of writer Helen Lowe's post-opening interview with me will be posted on Plains FM's website (this was broadcast on yesterday morning's Women on Air.). 

I've been offered the treat of a creative residency (oh, so perfectly timed) out at The Portage, miles away from my usual, familiar things; it's a welcome chance to rest, breathe deeply, recharge my battery and sink into some of the writing that's been waiting patiently in my incubation basket this past while. By the end of next week, I hope to have fine-tuned a bunch of still-somewhat-tatty poems, completed a Residency submission and laid down the bones of an ArtScience essay. Yum. It's a rare experience this, being able to shape my days around writing, reading, resting, a daily walk in the forest (we're right on the edge of the Queen Charlotte track... ). 

The gnarly, black-rock-and-kelp coast road leading up to Kaikoura is one my favourite drives on the South Island. As you can see, the sky was in playful mood when I drove up yesterday - like a boisterous child getting up to a few last-minute tricks before bedtime.