Every creative person I talk to struggles to create. Writers, artists, musicians. We all identify strongly as these things. I am a writer. … But am I still a writer Continue Reading →
Living with chronic illness and disability forces us to make tough choices. To put our health first, even when that means missing out on special occasions, important moments, and big Continue Reading →
“Pain is a room for one. Only we can enter, and sometimes, we can’t leave.” … But what if someone else could actually picture the pain?
The record we’ve all been listening to is so scratched to shit it can only play one song. Spoilers: it’s the wrong one.
The cottage where I live used to be owned by a woman named Joyce. I don’t know much about Joyce, other than that she was an extremely particular gardener, with Continue Reading →
At a time when the world is bowing under the weight of a pandemic, there is one part of frontline service that remains dangerously unchanged: the 15 minute GP appointment. Continue Reading →
Weddings are my feminist, capitalist, hates-events-and-especially-hates-planning-them Nightmare. So… why *am* I doing it?
I promised myself I wouldn’t write this, for numerous reasons. My health – both physical and mental, is the primary one. In fact, I’m writing in pain and at sloth Continue Reading →
Let’s just call this what it is. You cannot campaign on a platform of relieving child poverty, improving the lives of all New Zealanders, commission an investigation into the welfare Continue Reading →