Children's author, New Zealand
My poor garden, I simply can't give it the attention it needs right now. It gets on in the way most wildlife does in the absence of human intervention: it grows and grows, and whatever started out tallest and strongest and most favourably positioned grows best. I try to keep it low maintenance, because gardening … Continue reading Growing all the time
I filled out a survey last year, something government-y and educational-ish, to do with school. One question asked how many books were in the household for adult readers, and another how many books for children. It turns out we have very little reading material for adults in our house, and a huge amount for children. … Continue reading Reading habits
Words, words, words: to drown out all the clamour. Words: to distance me from the day just done. Words: to hold what I struggle to grasp. Words: to contain the deluge. When I write, I bring threads of experience together. I weave them as I want to. I weave and unravel and weave them again. … Continue reading Writing is a tonic
Moonlight paints the room in bright, solid rectangles. The hum of crickets comes at me like a stage whisper: quiet but obvious, insistent. These intrusions into an otherwise dark and silent space emphasise my solitude, and the peace I have in this moment. On another day I find another gentle stretch of time. Trees sway … Continue reading Windows of time
This is a love letter to libraries. School libraries, academic libraries, public libraries, Little Libraries that pop up in suburban streets - I love them all. I love the look of libraries: the shelves lined with slim, irregular columns of colour; the beautiful faces of books turned out in full view; the hanging artworks; the … Continue reading In love with libraries
Not writing today, but sewing. Machine sewing, hand sewing; glasses on, glasses off. Standing in a light rain. Stepping on and over toys. Machine sewing, hand sewing; glasses on, glasses off. Making coffee. Keeping peace. Laying train tracks on the floor. Machine sewing, hand sewing; glasses on, glasses off. Not writing today, but sewing. Pulling … Continue reading Warp and weft
It rained the other day: gently, consistently, kindly. It was the kind of rain that kisses the skin, and settles lightly into thirsty soil. For a long time after the rain, even as the day warmed up, the sky remained full and dark. Pollen and seeds whirled on the breeze; bees darted and hovered. These … Continue reading Breathing in
Tania Sickling 