Connection

A walk with Deb

The news headlines bark at me from the radio as I potter about the kitchen. Breakfast is made for the dogs and self, while sleep clouds our faces. The youngest dog who whips awake, bounces around me, eager to woolf down his kai. The news I am trying to tune out. It is a heavy way to wake and I am sure the things I am hearing cloud my face as much as not enough sleep. The words of an old history professor bubble in my mind. ‘You don’t want to live in interesting times’ and yet here we are. Thoughts of AI dance around my head. I flip between moments of worry and calm about it’s growing presence in our lives (here is an interesting article on AI & gardening). We are heading away for a few days shortly and as I pack for a trip away I realise that the books I am taking are paperbacks and the kindle which spelled the end of a paperback as we know it, is being left behind. This is perhaps more a reflection of the availability my odd choice of holiday reading than anything else but I do enjoy the tactile aspect of the written page. It is a realisation that comforts me, that technology perhaps might not replace everything. I do remember reading of the rise of the Arts and Crafts and art that William Morris (amongst others) created. It’s governing principles were a protest against the increasing move towards industrialization. I think of how we are here now facing a radical change in how work might look and increasingly I feel the move to the tactile, to what you can touch and I think most importantly the simple joy of an in person conversation.

A few weeks ago Deb messaged me via Instagram, to say she was going to be in NZ and could we catch up. I suggested a walk in the gardens knowing that it would be a space where we could take photos together but also I wanted to have the background of nature as the first place for us to met and get to know each other outside of the virtual space of hearts and comments we normally inhabit. The weeks passed and the day arrived and we meet in a car park in the gardens. Hugs were followed by the how are yous and how has the trip been and then we stomped down the hill, cameras in hand to explore and create together. It was a simply joyous day. Both of us felt a shared delight in being in a space that we both appreciate but also, and I tend to always have this happen when I do a walk like this, there was a presence of the magic, of sharing what you see and in turn someone sharing what they see.

‘When we come together in listening and reciprocity, we generate things: energy, noise, resistance.  We make space that hadn’t previously existed.”

Alice Vincent ‘Hark’

As we strolled around the gardens I loved that Deb appreciated the song of the bellebird and the cranky waddle of the Paradise duck. We hunted for bumble bees then stopped to appreciation the tree that I said she must see. A tree that I now walk past daily watching it shed the leaves and think of Deb and our walk together. As I explored different ways of capturing the gardens, I would hear an encouraging “Mel, this would make a great light painting” from Deb. I loved the way words between us bounced from the details of daily life, to the awe of nature via a celebration of taking a good photos. While the day was a stunner and our two hour together speed by in minutes, I think that the thing that touched us both so much was the simple pleasure of connecting in person. It made me feel a little bit more hopefully that connections, positive connections, will win out in this time of oddness and that the best way of protesting against it all is to hold tight to what matters to you. Gardens matters to me. Connecting to people matters to me. Being creative matters to me. Kindness matters to me. As I press send on this weekly note, know the invitation to say hello in person is always here and if you ever wish to step out from behind the screen just drop me a line.