You don’t have to love Wellington in the early evening, but it’s easy to.
Wellington goes on in the edges and margins in my life. I march on through dealing (or not) with the offerings of the day in whatever way I can. Somtimes (well, most days) I write – here and/or in my journals. I draw (not often enough) or take photos – more now with the digital camera solving that scanner step. But at each stage, Wellington is the present (and forseeable) canvas. There are smaller canvases, more limiting horizons, worse weather, duller people, and harsher work potentials – it’s not that I haven’t experienced them here, but very much moreso elsewhere. Wellington, I feel, offers an updraft for the creative spirit. It’s ok to be creative here, other places I’ve lived I was (and so were others) creative in defiance of the milieu.
So the notes I make here, and the images, are my marginalia – my notes in the margins on my life here in tumeke Poneke. And most days that feels pretty good.