Tag Archives: earth


When I was just

a little girl

My mother showed me how to

sew seeds


I could live like Alice does

in a wonderland.

At the time we drew them blooming from the earth

Knees dusted in dirt

All I could hear were their howls and screams.

As a woman

thinking on how I am plucked and tugged and wrenched and dislocated

I pat the soil around my babies and promise they will

come to full term



and, when the wind threatens to carry them away,


and knit themselves into crusts and crevices

for you to wonder at

when you are screaming.


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I want to own beautiful things.

A hardwood floor

to sprawl about in summer.

A needle

that peaks on vinyl

A rose

that animates the air

before it has been seen.


I want to reside as a dangling bra strap on your shoulder

My eyes to default to the furrowed creases between brow and bristles at your moment of O

My mouth to savour the bare breaths

when you part

my kimono.


I want every pen indentation

to arrest with intonation

that mornings lathering of soap

The groan you couldn’t help

And that era when my name

sounded like love.


I acquiesce

I don’t want

much else


Except perhaps

to see the lakes surface quivering above her privates

To feel

damp clumps of moss mat beneath my bare arse

And to curl

into cotton

And blossoms

as they drop

in the air.

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* if you ever need help, dial 000. Don’t be a victim for too long. Stand tall. It’s unfair but it’s not your stuff. Speak up. Say no. Call people out on their behaviour. With empathy , of course, know people hold within them their own darkness. But that darkness should never be inflicted on someone else. I urge everyone to sort out their own shit so we don’t inflict it on other people. 

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Come in.

Lay your body down.

This place

it is

a refuge.



…with your armor up

…and your iron eyes

…and your stiffened lips

Unfurl your hair

let it avalanche down your steel shoulders

and flush cheek bone

and breast.


Come in.

Lay your body down.

This place

it is

a refuge.

Tell me your stories

Let your tongue tease out the learning

Your muscles ease out the burning

and your heart

so swollen

…let it leech out for awhile.


Give. me. your. lungs. warrior.

A baby would know what to do under such circumstances.

I am giving you permission to do the same.

Make your mournful sounds.

You have not forgotten how

only pretended.


Give. me. your. salt. warrior.

Your lacrimation will be a final desalination

Through pores

excrete what your body can no longer contain.

I will gather the delicate crystalline in my palms

and with index finger and thumb

we will use it to season

what. comes. next.


Come in.

Lay your body down.

Dear warrior

This place

it is

your refuge.


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The Auburn Rose

I came across an Auburn Rose

A fire fractured by the soft morning light

but burning still

as lovers might.

It had interlaced it’s fingers around those

less fortunate.

Brown and crinkled they cracked and fell.

But she

this Auburn Rose

only looked on death as a last lover



and biting back at the frost with both her blushing cheeks.

At the time winter came

she groaned unabashed


with her fill of earth and sun

and soak of sky.

I wept

not for her

but that I might have been an

Auburn Rose.





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The trial

I am trying not to




end up a puddle on the floor for people to slip on and exclaim

‘someone clean up this mess!’.

I am trying not to arrive

windswept &


to take the birds and the bird nest out of my hair and brush myself to the lady that comes to the world

whatever time of day








I am trying to do fancy

to take off the boots I have worn up the mountain a thousand times and

cross. my. legs.



and say ‘oh yes one must’

and wear the kind of earrings that do not sway

do not flirt with the air

but just sit


and obedient.

With gritted teeth I am trying to scrub myself to something picture perfect for somebodies and who’s-a-what’s-its and thems and theys and he’s and she’s.

I am trying




When the earth starts to make demands

It means you havn’t been listening.



Post note

I’m disappearing into an envelope

so that I may post myself to a place where

no one knows me.

At the moment I am found by your hands

unfold me


Brush aside any dirt

press me to you if any rain has dampened me on my journey and

forgive any creases;

though I am damaged

I come to you






I didn’t have to go far.

I was always here.



Memory box(ed)

I will never attempt to paint this memory

in any other colors than what

you have given me tonight.



Her refusal to say his name



Hibernation is not an option

I am forced to taste this bitterness.

x Kate

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Earthly perspective

‘When we originally went to the moon our total focus was on the moon,  we weren’t thinking about looking back at the earth…but now that we’ve done it that may well have been the most important reason went’. David Beaver

Perspective is a wonderful thing.

I have had two occasions of it this week, three if you count the metaphor I too willingly placed upon a pair of shoes to convince myself to buy them.

Actually. Let’s go with the shoes for a minute.

I made a decision thursday morning after having to yet again reach up on my tippy-toes to give someone a hug, that I was short and of an age that it was time to start wearing shoes with more of a heel on them…like all grown up women do right?

I went hunting twice but the only thing I could find that I liked was a pair of boots that was $300 more than I had to spend (keeping in mind I have zero that I can technically spend on anything right now).

I was in a shoe shop where a little girl was patiently waiting for her mother, sitting on the floor playing with toys. The shop assistant asked if I wanted some help and I explained now exasperated that I had wanted something in particular and of course was now having trouble finding it.

A voice came from the floor at this time. The little girl now below my feet exclaimed ‘what about these?’. She had pulled a pair of shoes from beside her, a position no shoe would wish to be on display as they would have buggeries chance of being seen …unless you were willing to change your perspective as this girl was now making me do, crouching down to talk to her.

Now, they weren’t a boot and they didn’t have much of a heel on them but they were the perfect Kate shoe. To think I’d almost missed out on perfection simply because I was all tunnel vision in my search?

Of course I appreciate that this is a somewhat lame, western world, commercial type metaphor to use (shoes can bring happiness and perspective?! Sure! Why not?!), but my acupuncturist, bless him, has been helping me find links in such ways to help me understand deeper eastern philosophies (the over expenditure of a credit card to illustrate to me my failing health a favorite), so why not run with the shoes to begin.

My other two gifts, the greater ones that have opened my eyes to the world this week, came from more simple things, from the earth and earthly delights… from ‘enjoyment in what you don’t expect’ someone said to me recently, the someone who brought the first gift of perspective. This particular someone in fact brought a perspective that comes only when you take a conscious breath …and wonder why and when you’d stopped breathing in the first place…

I must take a moment some time this week to thank this person for resuscitating me.

The other gift I was given must (and can) be shared. It certainly came as unexpectedly, the link arriving from a man I haven’t seen or heard from for over five years. But he was right to send it to me, right to send me, a woman so deeply awed by the natural world and so enamored by wonder that she often loses herself in a sea of words trying to communicate the experience back; right to send something short yet exquisite that brings tears of joy and understanding.

And when you watch this documentary as I hope you do, you will get the chance to taste a little of what the astronauts share through their experience, to see our planet from ‘up there’, from a different perspective …and perhaps realise as I did that everything we worry about or focus on seems tiny in comparison. That we are missing the bigger picture.


Wonder. Meant …that this week I will look up, out, under, in, through and close up. And I wont be looking for anything in particular. World, I’ll let you surprise me.

x Kate

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Out. wondering for treasures

‘When you go out into your world tomorrow, choose a piece of it to really look at. …There will be nowhere out there in the universe that is the same’. Brian Cox. Wonders of life.

This one is ode to kids and like minded adults who pick up sticks.

Yesterday I watched as a grandfather came into a cafe with his two grandchildren, one who carried a stick. Not just any stick mind you, but the longest stick you’ve ever seen.

The boy was perched atop his grandfathers shoulders, a mighty king armed with sword that was, rather hilariously  (erhm, I mean ferociously) thwacking people as they passed. No one seemed to mind though, many in fact giggled (erhm, I mean cowered in the shadow of this great king!).

As they passed me I wondered what the child, as much as every adult in that room, would think if I told them about my stick collection? My house is full of bottles wielding twigs, branches from trees, feathers, dried flowers and pods; and bowls of pebbles can be found on benches, beside the televisions and books. Even the dashboard of my brand new car that boasts talking technology I can’t ever fathom I’ll use, has been described as a terrarium.

I can honestly add to this that one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given was a ‘found object’, a white rock from a mountain in New Zealand that my best friend gave me on her return. It was free, it was found in the dirt, but also from ‘another world’ that my friend had adventured through. This small piece of ‘other’ now sits on one of said benches in my home and it is a gift I still marvel at, as wide-eyed as a child in the throws of wonderment. Did I mention I was 33 years old?

Found treasures are indeed the greatest of simple pleasures because they are simply that – found, unexpected, on the path of your journey. Whether an overseas adventure or simply your daily walk to work, the surprise you feel when you come upon a treasure (or perhaps when it comes upon you…) can catapult you into a state of what David Byrne describes as ‘time delay fireworks’. Further to this, connecting with the object, seeing and choosing it beyond and amongst anything else on your path, the object becomes imbued with life. The stick does indeed become a sword.

My pebbles for instance, the particular ones I come across that fill me with delight, are always smooth, round and heavy. The simultaneous weight and softness of my little treasures ground me, sink me into a body, my body, that is sometimes caught in the throws of a busy day.

My feathers? A lightness of being when I feel a little ‘weighed down’ and a sense of possibility, of what’s out there if I take flight.

The pods? God damn they’re sexy. Each one of them a cavern of hidden wonders ready to birth. I connect immediately to the most womanly parts of myself here (and maybe keep my eyes open at the same time for a man wielding a stick. Erhm).

The gnarled twigs and sticks are my favorite though. There is something in the way they reach up and out, clumsily, that I love. Trying they are to grow, to stick (if you pardon the pun) their feelers out into the world, but they just look so awkward doing it, particularly in winter, bare and vulnerable, that I am reminded of how clumsy I can be tripping about my day and how we are all a little awkward in our process of growth.

The personalities or life I give these treasures aside, each one of course also becomes a memento of the adventure I’ve been on. The  treasure proves to myself and others that I went out into the world and still lived to tell the tale.

Watching Brian Cox’s ‘Wonders of Life’ last night and considering the fact that it is often things born of nature that bring me the most pleasure, the greatest sense of wonderment when I come upon them, I’m reminded how little pleasure things I’ve bought on overseas or daily adventures have brought me, how quickly their shine fades.

The intricacies and complexities of earths designs however never seem to lose there shine. Even though we now know so much now about our planet and even a little beyond, awe and wonder can still be inspired if we indeed look at the environment we traverse through on a daily basis with the knowledge that people like Brian Cox impart.

When you consider that not one part of the earth you travel through daily, not one natural treasure you might see or gather along the way, is the same, your ‘everyday’ becomes a lot more spectacular and the earth the most wonder-full of playgrounds.

I can’t not get a little excited by this thought. A sort of puppy-like energy takes over. But a word of caution here though: don’t ever try and put me on a leash if you see me in this state, don’t hold me back when I go to sniff out these treasures.  I’ll tell you why.

The intricacies and design of nature that inspire the sense of wonderment in me, that gives me that puppy like energy some people feel so ready to deflect or squash, is actually what gives me fuel. On days I’ve found hard to get out of bed, it’s always been a beautiful sunrise that’s breathed energy into my body. Outside in the world some days falling over, those poor branches lying broken on the ground have made me laugh; and those pods tickle in me a desire for new life when I may need it. These things inspire wonderment in me and that wonder inspires me to keep adventuring, to keep looking and keep marveling at the honor and privilege I have being on this planet.

Wonder. Meant …that any battle can be fought when there’s a stick lying around.

x Kate

Ps. Wasn’t lying. Welcome to my home …a land of treasures. And check out the photography of Karl Blossfeldt. He knew to wonder at natural treasures : )


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