Malik dreams of striding across the veldt with a huge herd of African elephants. To trumpet wildly with the sheer joy of freedom. Ears flapping, charging, fending off the cackling hyenas, protecting the elephant calves from lions and other scourges. Reaching out to caress the young, to comfort the aged, to celebrate victories with the strong. To feel a part of the herd, to be valued, to belong. To remember, to remember true, forever — the elephant’s privilege.

Malik longs for the dawn when the cold night air concedes to the first fingers of golden light – the sun rising and the haze beginning to stir. Lizards scuttling among the grass tufts. The ants labouring in lines, the bee-eaters flashing colours and chattering in deep conversation in the thorn bushes. Later in the day the clouds will clot and lightning slashes at the air heaving with pounding rain. Mother Africa.

Malik wants to be more, bigger, better. Malik works in every way to become a superior elephant, not necessarily the herd leader (although that would be welcomed), but a senior and respected member of the extended elephant family. It is not to be. For reasons unknown to Malik, the dream will not, cannot, come true. No-one can bring themselves to tell Malik – some truths are too big to share.

Malik holds the dream. Anything to get through the day.

Manifesto
12. Every day love yourself.
25. Every day your light shines for others to see.
28. Every day you will be tested.

I come a family with a long tradition of preserving food – bottles of jams, jellies, marmalades, sauces, chutneys, and pickles. Bottled sunshine. Essence of labour, and of love. Dad would maintain the fruit trees and the vegetables, and Mum would bottle the harvest surpluses. I didn’t fully understand it at the time – it was all part of the flow – but Dad’s expression of love was in the richness of the crops, Mum’s in the beautiful artistry of the preserves. Together, in winter, making toast on the open fire, enjoying each other’s company and the bottled sunshine.

Manifesto
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
30. Every day use all your senses. Touch. Smell. Taste. Hear. See.
50. Every day has an ending.

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
32. Every day have a laugh.
41. Every day use your mind. It is the greatest technology ever created.

Except for Nunga. Now there’s a sport that totally engages me. You’ve probably never heard of it much less played it and even less seen it being played. Don’t feel bad, it’s not available on the sports channel. Hopefully never will be. Nunga is a game we made up a few years back. At a family reunion. We were bored to the point of paralysis and there was nothing to see or do, and nowhere to run to. Nunga to the rescue.

Nunga is a solo sport you play with other people. You need a team of two or more people. Probably five is optimal, more than that they should split off into a separate team so you’ve got somewhere to defect to. Defecting to other teams is an important, if not essential, component. You’ll need a branch/pole/broken broomstick/peg, and at least one ring of some kind. Initially we used an axle off a pushchair and a couple of the broken/rusted out wheels – just the decaying rubber and rusty rims left. Sink the branch/axle in the ground deep enough so about 30 cm/ 1 foot remains above ground.

The object of the game is to throw the ring over the branch. Just like throwing quoits. Horseshoes. Here is where the sport differs. It’s over to the thrower to decide where they’ll stand to throw. Most people start right up close, and then move further back as their confidence and competence grows. They make it just difficult enough. Nunga is a sport that most anyone of any age can compete in with an equal opportunity to win at – physicality is not a requirement – in fact being a stunning athlete in the traditional for is a disadvantage.

Merely getting the ring over the peg doesn’t really win the points. There are no points. The other people on the team are there to boost you onwards to ever bolder moves. How you score is by ever moving out of your comfort zone and still hooping the ring over the peg. The best players are those who can call like a rooster, scurry up clucking like a chicken, run past the peg, and throw the ring without looking, have in bounce off a car, knock (but not spill) Aunty Joy’s gin and tonic, spin on its axis and then descend gracefully around the peg; to the wild screams and applause of the other participants – each of whom are determined to outdo the theatrical splendor, grace, and riskiness standard so recently set. The frailer or younger participants have the advantage that any flamboyance exhibited will be more valued than mere physical expertise. Singing, dancing, chanting, flames, hop, skip, and jump. Spin, twist, and yahoo to your heart’s content. Giggle like a loony-thing. The most important thing is to engage and enjoy as raucously as possible.

Don’t watch the game. BE the game.

PS – When the winning match was scored, my colleagues politely applauded and quietly returned to their desks. Not a lot of Nunga there.

According to the media today, biosecurity have announced 400+ new organisms attempt to enter New Zealand each year. Snakes, spiders, scorpions – the list of horrors (from the average New Zealand perspective) continues.

On the way back to the car tonight I discovered a small invasion bid had taken place outside the City Council. Skillful camouflage during the day gives way to the glowing luminescence in the evening. Must be an interplanetary kind of glowworm.

Manifesto
09. Every day learn something new.
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
32. Every day have a laugh.

How completely beautiful. This afternoon I took the pear and quince juice my sister Gillian brought us and made jelly. Jam is good, but jelly is better. I love the way the light becomes golden, richer, turning the glass jars into gem stones. The house becomes redolent with the fragrance of quince. I love the meditative experience.

When I first started making jelly I got some really helpful criticism – comments like: ‘You should’ve made it on a sunny day’, ‘The tiny bubbles in this jelly means it wouldn’t win prizes’, and ‘This jelly is too hard/soft/whatever’…

You know, there are some times when it’s better to not listen to helpful criticism. The best thing to do is to make some jelly – some grape, or apple, or peach, or quince – and then make some nice toast. Spread it with butter. Yes, that’s right, butter. No synthetics. Butter. Let the butter melt a little. Spoon over some jelly. Go on, spoon a little more. You’ll love it. Take a bite – let the rich fruit flavours make love with your taste buds. Shut your eyes. Breathe in the sublime summer. Sigh. Love. Love. Love.

So what criticism?

Manifesto
17. Every day look through a new lens.
22. Every day refine, clarify and simplify.
30. Every day use all your senses. Touch. Smell. Taste. Hear. See.

I think maybe it’s all about branding – they believe our flag isn’t completely and utterly unique. It’s true. There are other flags that imitate ours. Australia, for example. It’s not surprising – our nations were founded at about the same time – by the same colonising people – and at one point, the state of New South Wales was the administrative centre for New Zealand. We still export huge numbers of our brightest and best people to Australia. As nations we’re like twins. So it makes sense to have similar flags – you know how twins are always dressed alike.

Manifesto
03. Every day is an opportunity to reflect on the past.
08. Every day choose to bring about change.
17. Every day look through a new lens.

What a simple joy today to spot a small troupe of goldfinches, in full winter regalia, foraging for food on the street among the cigarette butts and other city detritus. I don’t know what they’d be able to find – not much in the way of seeds there.

I came home tonight and made a cake for the birds – rendered beef fat melted, with sunflower seeds and oatmeal mixed together, now chilling down. When it’s all set hard I’ll turn it out of the bowl and into a mesh bag recycled from some mandarins. I can then hang this up safely in a tree out of the reach of cats and other bird hunting vermin, and hopefully the local bird life will manage through a little easier. Bonus for me if I get to see birds feeding…

Manifesto
25. Every day your light shines for others to see.
33. Every day try something new.
37. Every day fight for what’s worth fighting for. Pick your battles.

Quite honestly, I don’t believe there can be too much kindness. The best example I’ve seen lately is some kind person has thoughtfully put a woolly scarf on the tail of one of the bronze lions that live down by the cenotaph. The weather has been so bitter lately, and sitting on the cold granite must be no fun at all.

I wonder if the lions take turn about with the scarf. You know, at night when they come alive and get a chance to get up and have a stretch and a growl, before they run off to play in Parliament grounds. They could swap the scarf then. Thank you, kind person, for making our lions more comfortable with this beautiful scarf.

Manifesto
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
20. Every day say thank you.
34. Every day focus on your dreams.

As a kid I loved not only Modest Mussorgsky’s compositions ‘Pictures at an exhibition‘, I loved the whole idea – walk around, consider the works, walk and reflect through to the next work, pause, consider, repeat. What more typically happens is I cruise through less like a genteel and delicate meal, and far more like speed sushi. Zoom through quick look here, read there, and gone.

Tonight, the Six@66 exhibition opening, was different again. The photo here with the photographers milling nervously fine tuning the catering, the drinks ready for serving (my job), and a sense of waiting in the air – this scene did not last for long. Soon the first guests arrived, and then more, and more, and more. It was so crowded it was almost impossible to see the walls, let alone the works. A terrific success. Everything you do is a self portrait.

Congratulations and thank you to all.

Manifesto
10. Every day connect with somebody.
11. Every day do something for someone else.
49. Every day is a good day.