|
Friday June 9, 2006 No woman is an island This is my dog Chance doing her favourite thing. Walking, I mean, not posing. Though she is a bit of a poser. She may join me during some of this retreat. I don't know that she'll write any songs, but she will definitely wag some tail and eat some bone.
By the time I'd packed and finished sending my goddamn emails it was lunchtime. I arranged to meet Fi for a swim in Raumati, then I'd head to the bach from there. But the KCDC in all their glory had fecked up again and the pool was closed with no notice. Fionnaigh had driven from Naenae, I felt terrible.
And there's Fruit Squares.
It's in two parts. Part One...Oh! A beautiful welcome letter. And all in a hand-illustrated enveloped, sewn with gold thread. Already writing words - 'the trouble with her, she's shut up tight, she's like a letter, she's so hard to open, come away...' Rooftops. Just now, on Raumati Beach, Fi and I saw a round house with a thatched-looking conical roof. We wondered who lived in there as we walked past the next rambling mansion on the waterfront. I told Fi how much I love Mana Island - the shape of it is so simple, almost pre-historic, especially with the little clump of trees on top. I think I love it more than Kapiti, even - as a shape, I mean.
It seems like a very long time since I've done this thing.
|
Day One Songwriting Retreat |
copyright 2004 hinemoana baker. all rights reserved. site credits