Wellington — There was no reason for it. Another day. Like all the other ones. Same wake up call in the morning. Same thing had for breakfast. Same goodbye to my daughter. Same route walked to work. And yet I didn...
Wellington — I lived in Daikokucho, a short walk from Nanba and the entertainment district of Shinsaibashi, one subway stop north of gangland Osaka, den of supposed iniquity, home to Eastern European ‘hostesses’, ...
New plymouth — I found myself asking this question after spending 10 days road-tripping around the country and staying with family and friends. It wasn’t so much location that got me thinking, but what defines home,...
11 hours of sitting. 10 days straight. Not long now.
Where exactly is home?
It might have been the healthy dose of Vitamin D I received today, but the future felt bright.
An added bonus of having a wife that attends art school, are art swaps.
It felt good to be alive this morning.
On the way to work I was reminded of Osaka-jo and the blue tarpaulins of the homeless.
Thursday is my favourite day of the week.
I couldn't help myself, I tilted my head and looked to the sky.
It felt like I was intruding on an intimate moment.
I can feel it; the falling away of something. I'm not sure what's going to take its place.
Incongruous yet harmonious.
As brilliant as this day suggested it might become, it couldn't outdo my daughter's smile as I left for work.
First day of spring comes to a close. Summer edges closer. Sky might be blue. But the air is ice.
Expected refugee stories; got a PowerPoint and a government official. Should have stayed longer. The stories probably came later. Impatient.
He wasn’t an island; more like a radioactive atoll that would forever be in quarantine.
First father's day breakfast in bed.
Mosque Open Day. Saudi Arabian dates and reduced cream. Hospitality. Travel sick for the Middle East. Don't bomb Syria, Obama.
Feeling like a walk. 900 km should do it. Camino de Santiago. Never again I said...