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Good friendship

August 17, 2012

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"Good friendship is the entire holy life"

Buddha

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The indigenous Pakeha

"I was not the first man to arrive here. He came from somewhere else. I bought the land from someone who bought the land from someone who bought the land from someone who probably stole it. The sun rises in the east. The weather comes in from the west. I drink tea in China. My neighbour's fog still barks at me, I think he is Alsatian. Either I don't belong to anyone, Or else I'm indigenous everywhere. From "The indigenous Pakeha" Glenn Colquhoun

What is Not

We put thirty spokes together and call it a wheel; But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the wheel depends. We turn clay to make a vessel; But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the vessel depends. We pierce doors and windows to make a house; But it is on the spaces where there is nothing that the usefulness of the house depends. Therefore, just as we take advantage of what is, so we should recognise the usefulness of what is not. Lao Tzu

Tiled Victorian floor. The glass in the dining room door That my mother put her hand through once. The door to the pantry, Lined with shelves to two walls, A tiny window and a larder cupboard. The door to the under stairs cupboard Where my father dressed and showered. The timber panelling to the side of the stairs, Painted white. The stairs with the cheap carpet runner, Worn on each tread, My father refusing to replace it Until we learnt to climb the stairs "properly". The gas heater where we huddled To get dressed on winter mornings. The door to the junk room, Which used to be my grandmother's room. The cold tiles, patterned, ornate. The door to my father's office. Not allowed. The coat rack loaded with coats. The glass door behind it. The front door. Solid. Held open With a heavy weight. The house is empty. There's only me. Tiled Victorian...

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Good friendship

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