I'll live just turning pages

I see my last entry is NZ inspired. Interesting that NZ, or more accurately, the Southern Hemisphere inspires me to report, share, recreate. 

Six60. 

It has a lot of meaning to me, as it was my soundtrack during my days co-living on Snell's Beach aka "Heaven" in a time of needing an island of peace after the hardships of seeing your own will challenged when practising the vulnerable and noble art of living called teaching.

After my teaching week I would move to Heaven for the weekend near Warkworth to, like the song says: "only to be" with my homies, two Kiwi girls, the beach and the silence.

There we would indulge in super foods and endless walks and spotting oysters, even got to go to a concert of Avalanche City.
A special mention to some certain pyramid of energy that developed just there. The same one that created, ended and destroyed my year of Progressive Grey. Pure serendipity but first ever encounter with forces beyond myself. 

I do remember, too, sleeping in a guest room in this heavenly house by the beach on the foam mattress of my camper and waking up covered in sea dampness. 

HEAVEN, our view from the terrace, all I remember is talks about happiness. Best enjoyed with NZ white wine and Six60 sounding from the living room. Soundtrack: "Forever". Because some moments should play on loop for life. 

"Ain't it good to be alive"

So I recently attended my first concert of Six60 in Europe. I missed them when they played in Whangarei back in 2015, so I was almost in debt. I couldn't forgive myself that they played back then quite next to my place in Onerahi (another bit of heaven, but with a cat), so off I went. 

I seemed to be the only non-Kiwi among so many brews. And it went as it does in NZ. 
I must say, if you haven't lived in NZ, you have missed some life experience of humanity at its best side (most of the time and in contrast to some other places in the world).

I showed up alone, knowing the band is not a big thing in Europe. I was spotted by the Kiwis, at that point, lucky me. 
I was on the phone trying to send a some documents for a quotation (for my wee tiny bit of heaven to come).
I can't be grateful enough to the Kiwi who tapped my shoulder and said: "you seem busy, aye!", I explained I was trying to send some documents before the band came out as I didn't know anyone in the room. 
So, off he went and introduced me to all his brews and cuzzes. Then he added: "now you know somebody".
Lucky me and positively surprised to be accompanied for the night by a bunch of big Pasifika men, in my view, the highest expression of male beauty. So I had a tiny piece of heaven then and there. But aside of the greatness of a Polinesian bodybuild, they were, most importantly, beautiul inside. 

For a bit I really felt in NZ. The crowd gathered at the bar, sharing drinks in a vibe of community only comparable to the real Aotearoa. Laughs, but not the loud European ones, the melodic voice of Matiu and the feel of being with the whanau. 

Such a contrast to what I am used to, some sort of harmony reigned, a kind of "sweet as" feel. 
People came with kids, partners and lots of friends. Not a glass was thrown on the floor, no eyes met without a smile.

TUMEKE

AROHA
I sang along to Kia Mau Ki To Ukaipo, because, hell, I had been practising my Te Reo the whole week on the bike, at home and in the shower and wanted to pay my respects to the Maori culture.

 And cried. Because, as usual, I miss being on the right side of the world, down under, while on the wrong side, here, up above.

A post concert snapshot of what connection through music does to you.

I went through part of the soundtrack of my life Down Down Under and left silently after intruding for a short space of time into a piece of Kiwiana. 

If you haven't experienced New Zealand Roots music, your soul is missing a beat. Little is known about NZ and less about the musical abundance that have such a personal, distinctive flair.

And on my way back, on the ferry, still wiping tears, I had to accept I might not be trying hard enough, maybe "This wasn't meant for me". Am I right where I'm supposed to be?

I'll live just turning pages
well, I know it is worth the ride
Ain't it good to be alive.