Anzac weekend has always been a time for thinking about our country and during this one, in the quiet that has fallen during lockdown, we can contemplate a new kind …
'Can’t see the point in celebrating the day until we can say where we went wrong too.'
Writing a crime novel’s easy, right?
I told Nan that I’m a historical materialist.
For a few weeks we haven’t been able to escape each other or ourselves or our own terrible cooking.
The greatest leaders from history have made sacrifices in times of need. A look at who, now, is doing that for us.
Letters to Hone Tūwhare and his Travelling Band of Constant Companions, continued.
'My patience, never a very strong part of my character, is being stretched a bit so thinking of something else is preferable to throwing all the cups on the floor.'
We spent years waiting on a moment. That moment is here, but what can anyone show for it?
On writing and not writing about bread.
When fiction and reality collide, asking 'What if?' takes on a new meaning.
'I took a walk Easter Friday. Looked out for you everywhere. The churches are down at the moment. All I have is the beach.'
'Illegal bulletins by Rona and Chips Bailey and cartoons by Max Bollinger continued in spite of police raids'
'In an ideal world the physical lives we build would speak to the past, but the truth is New Zealanders silence it, building their social and industrial histories literally on top of Māori.'
'It feels like there is an inner circle of walking that I can no longer break into, some pleasure I have become too stupid to feel. Maybe it’s the internet’s fault.'
Responding to sudden, shocking change requires a double lens. Thank goodness for newspapers, real and imagined.
'It is sobering watching what a country can do if it wants to. Having been told for so long that nothing is possible. These are strange times down the back of the bus, John.'
'Yes, it's endearing that the PM said that the Easter Bunny is an essential service but I wondered how many kids had a hope in hell of seeing three good meals a day let alone a chocolate egg.'
'Paint is peeling from the old truck workshop walls. Some days you can taste rust on the autumn wind, like swallowing iron and blood and pollen.'
'When you reach for the exact same thing day after day, your grasp on everything else in the world loosens.'
Fiona Farrell on Jacinda Ardern and leadership.
Today, writer and doctor Glenn Colquhoun, with the second of his Letters to Hone Tūwhare and his Travelling Band of Constant Companions.
In which another lockdown milestone is reached – tackling the kitchen cupboards.
On our best days, time’s passing felt like a melody, embracing every beat and delighting in every pause. But on our worst days time was a cacophony.
The outside is telling us, ‘I could do that again whenever I wanted. You think about that.’
Am I anxious? Of course I am.
A letter to poet Hone Tūwhare – and his Travelling Band of Constant Companions
In our new series some of NZ's best writers tell us what they’ve been up to in the days of alert level four. Today, Ōtaki author Renée.