Titirangi Storyteller

Telling tales from around the world

Archive for the ‘time’ Category

Utopia is closed for repairs

with 4 comments

I doubt it will ever reopen. It’s just a matter of time until Utopia is condemned and then torn down. Someone will come along and put up a Walmart…

Utopia - what once was...

Utopia – what once was…

Utopia - the interior view

Utopia – the interior view

Utopia, rear view

Utopia, rear view

Written by Titirangi Storyteller

20/12/2014 at 11:41 am

As the World Turns

with 2 comments

Written by Titirangi Storyteller

07/02/2012 at 11:52 pm

Season ends

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Written by Titirangi Storyteller

03/02/2012 at 10:50 pm

Let’s go!

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Not sure which part of my imagination this one came from – but I was out for dinner with my daughters and on the ride home it came to me – pretty much just like this, although I thought of a night sky, but once I started working on it, this was obviously the right thing…

 

Written by Titirangi Storyteller

12/08/2011 at 1:00 am

Serengeti Dream

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Written by Titirangi Storyteller

08/07/2011 at 1:40 am

Flight

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Feeling flat – a friend of mine was killed in a bus crash in Mexico along with five others this past week. Didn’t find out until I got home.  She was spending a year travelling on her own, seeing the world and learning more about who she was and trying to figure out what she wanted to do next.

I always thought she made being FABulous look easy… though she was doing the work.. including the hard stuff.

We weren’t close – neither of us had the time, always meant to get together for dinner or something, but life and work and travel always got in the way and we would meet up at a mutual friend’s or run into each other in town and catch-up and promise not to let so much time pass before we got together again. And now she’s gone and we won’t be catching up…

Written by Titirangi Storyteller

12/06/2011 at 11:34 pm

Posted in Photography, Photopo, postaday2011, time

Tagged with

Afternoon at Grandma’s

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I admit it – I did not take this photo. That is me, sitting in my Grandma’s living room when I was 13. I remember feeling quite grownup that day as my younger brother and sisters were outside playing, but I was in the house with the grownups discussing grownup things.

I found it in a folder full of old photos and odds and ends my sister gave me after my mother died. The photo was badly faded and scratched and I thought I would see what I could do to bring it back to life. Technically I’m satisfied with the results. But… I think part of the charm and mystery of old photos is how they look old, the details fading into time along with our memories.

Something a bit odd happened when I restored the colour – that top came flooding back, it was a fairly loose, light woolen weave with that wallpaper-floral print. It had a light satiny slip underneath. Someone gave it to me used and it retained the vague odour of mothballs. I loved it – wore it until it was deeply out of style and then saved it for another ten years or so.

Sadly, it looked just awful – but when you’re 13, at least for me, it was about so much more than how it looked. Right around that time I bought the first issue of Rolling Stone Magazine. And purloined my mother’s copy of The Sensuous Woman and spent a deliciously wicked afternoon in bed reading the entire thing cover to cover (and I have not been able to eat soft-serve ice cream since without thinking of the instructions contained there.) I didn’t tell Grandma about this new twist in my reading material. She still gave me those Reader’s Digest Condensed Books to read, which I dutifully did for another couple of years – until I twigged they were editing out the good bits and if it was worth reading I should stick with what the writer intended.

Written by Titirangi Storyteller

28/04/2011 at 12:51 am

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