How long does it take from been there to lived there ? Is it really a question of time, or rather a question of immersion, exposure or life style? I like to think that I lived in Wellington, now that the time has come to move on, to get going again, to learn more of what is out there.
Oops … there it is. … Happy New Year!
This time things are different. The city seems empty. Temperatures are rising. Summer is here. I see how important context is, how much I depend on my cultural and climatic heritage, to properly feel the passing of another year. It seems I need the cold, the long nights and the crushing dominance of Christmas to truly believe that it is over.
This time it feels like the New Year sneaked up on me. … Welcome anyway. I hope we have a good time.
A Great 2015, to all of you, …
… and especially to some of you!
I leave New Zealand, the stunning landscapes and wilderness, far away from the rest of the world; the movie set that brought Tolkien’s world to life. … Wait a moment. … I remember a time when I thought that this country was one big sheep farm somewhere at the end of the world. Now it is the Shire? It seems to me that the “Kiwis”, as they call themselves after birds that cannot fly, are searching for an identity; one that helps them to survive or even prosper on their remote outpost, while the world changes. What did I see beyond all this natural beauty?
I find myself surrounded by an abundance of two- or three-story buildings that sparkle with the charm of a frontier town.
Stone is said to last. Opinions or paint less so. I find many places around here where they meet in what according to this logic must be a fragile relationship.
I thought I escaped Cyclone Lusi when I left Auckland in horizontal rain. Well it caught up with me. The severe weather warning did not. Now I am stuck for hours in a building that normally has a panoramic view on Wellington. All I see now is a Wall of Grey. There is glass all around me: Torrential rains pummel it, severe winds push it.
The Third Planet 