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Travel > inanga  > Travel > Aotearoa II - New Zealand
Another gallery of my Aotearoa (New Zealand) paintings using the Phi-swirl.

This gallery includes photos of my paintings that depict Aotea (the South Island). I was born in Aotea in McBrearty Annex, Greymouth District Hospital (I'm not telling you when but I am a Sagittarius!) How's this - my lady Ms P's dad, known locally in the Jville valley as 'Steptoe', was also born in the same room in Grey Hospital. He was the son of Italian immigrants who migrated to NZ before the Second World War, and who worked in the coalmines with members of my extended family. He moved to Jville and settled on a farm there. His Uncle stayed and was killed in a mining accident at the Nine Mile - he is buried with other coal miners, including my dad (George Jnr/Gunner) in Karoro Cemetery south of Grey.

I moved to Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington) about four years ago (it's 2009 now) to undergo recovery from the booze and met Ms P. She liked my paintings and (me I hope) gave me great encouragement. These galleries are the result. Now Carl Jung would probably describe all this as synchronicity - it is simply what happened, connected in the past, present and future.

See Aotearoa 1 for Whai Repo (North Island) paintings.

Sorry, but this gallery is always in progress.

Enough of anecdotal self-indulgence - let's get on with the show as prepared to date - I present to you Te Wai Pounamu - 'the waters of greenstone'.

inanga
Gallery pages:  1  2  3  4  5  6  >  
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inanga > Preliminary study: Kuri's Big OE I did a lot of soul searching before i completed this painting. I have got a copy of the framed original - it is down on the West Coast of the South Island. I wanted to highlight 'Te hapa o niu Tirenui' in this pic because it is typical of the marae - places for tribal families to gather to celebrate, mourn or hui - that you see dotted all over our landscape. It is beautiful here in Aotearoa, but so is the whole world. Let's keep it that way - get rid of the greedy inspired by money only. Money is not true power - it can never overcome love between us. Money stifles creativity and sucks us into an egoistic 3-D shell. Ms P and i argued about money the other day and both laughed realising that argument and gainsaying produce zilch. The beauty around us is free - a beach at sunrise, sunset from a gaol cell, the air at the top of a hill, the neighbour's well-kempt garden, a lawn with daisies, the now solitude of Grant and Lee's Wilderness, saguaro in the Superstitions, a waterfall in the sub-Sahara, the treasures of Konya, ad infinitum. Who needs money except to eat our portion of the food God allotted to us. Who needs money if you grow and share food amongst yourselves. They bled in Iraq, Darfur, Afghanistan, Colombia, Pakistan, Chechnya, Ossetia, the Balkans, Turkey, Wounded Knee, Waco, Malaya, Nicaragua, Panama, Gallipoli, Japan, Europe, China, USSR, South Africa, all of Europe, most of South America, East Timor, the Philippines, Cambodia, Burma, Hawai, Vietnam, and just about every other place on this globe you can think of - all in a hundred years. Fortunately in Aotearoa, we realised enmity got us nowhere and the practices of cannibalism (yeeecch), war, and domination of the needy and sick ended here well over 150 years ago. Te Tiriti o te Waitangi-ki-roto' (Treaty of Waitangi-ki-roto) was signed in 1840 between the people of the land (Tangatawhenua) and the Pakeha (Bahana). This is as definitive as Australia's recognition of the rights of Aboriginal sovereignty over their tribal lands. I reel when i think of the US's treatment of its indigenous Hopi of the Mesas of Arizona. Google Chrome Hopi if you want to see the real power behind the preservation of the United States. They still practice their annual ceremonies to propitiate the earth in accordance with the Covenant of Masau'wu. All Washington DC has given them in return is systematic acculturation. Shame - the rest of the world watches on-time, real-line, on-line real-time. The veterans of these forgotten wars deserve a beautiful part of the world in which to Be; the countless dead deserve our thoughts and respect. Those that still suffer from starvation, disease and the ravages of war - it is the pursuit of wealth by the greedy that prevents us coming to your aid. Ngai Tahu are one of our iwi (tribes) - let them welcome you to this gallery. Nei rā te mihi kau atu ki kā aroaro mauka o te motu, ki a koutou hoki kā iwi e noho ana ki tēnā pito, ki tēnā pito taiāwhio i te ao tēnei te mihi a Aoraki mauka ki a koutou katoa. Nau mai, nau mai, tauti mai rā. Greetings to all of the lofty peaks of the land, and to all peoples from around the world, from Aoraki mountain (and those that reside beneath him). Welcome, welcome, welcome. inanga
inanga > Whitebait's On-line Travelogue: 'I still call NZ home' For some strange reason the combination of Smug-icons and the red lines returning again to Aotearoa (New Zealand) forever reminds me of my own life. I spent a long time leaving Australia or New Zealand and returning, The Smug-icons on this map (from my gallery to Geo-coded Google Earth Locations of my paintings) are reminders of the places in Kiwiland that influenced my upbringing. All in all the whole exercise leads to a massive bout of introspection. I have changed what I wrote earlier here because I learnt a valuable exercise in 'flexibility' when I was in LA recently. It all happened because I got an Apple iPhone. No this is not an ad for Apple's technology at all. It is an introspective ramble on 'it is alright to change your mind'. And then there is Facebook - I became addicted. But that was easily solved. I turned this addiction into a preference, unlike some of my other addictions which I have to watch like a hawk! And then there is the fringe web of collective consciousness and concern for our lot and that of others in this technological morass. Sites appear like crop circles without little explanation and show some of the true character of the face watching the screen and holding the mouse. Wikipedia and Knol are born and the wisdom is shared further. Good causes have an international voice - vox populi goes feral! I look at this pic - a video-ed dowload of my computer screen - an auto snapshot loaded into Picasa 3 on-line photo editor - edited in Picasa 3 (clever name!) - uploaded to a SmugMug gallery based on a giant Google-connected server - all using Mozilla Firefox - getting into this particular gallery via a Plogsite and then arranging it by thumbnails so this pic features - all in five minutes. I look at the two thumbnails on the right of this screen capture, both of Pitagliano now in my Tuscany Gallery, and think of the amount of time that went into painting those to get them right. Maybe this techno-art mix - paintings to galleries to world - is a new genre that I am caught up in. But to what effect I ask rhetorically. The end rest is techno-art in the age of nanosecond expectation. Here is a gallery flouted around the globe with a pic highlighting the place where I was born and always seem to return to highlighted by red arrows and Smug-icons, created in five minutes, with little or no thought that would look good in a 100% Clean Green New Zealand campaign - and we all know that isn't true - or on cover of a NZ Tourism brochure for possible visitors. Incidentally I have an Australian passport. I got this, even though I was born in Greymouth, because the inefficient and poorly-run New Zealand Passport Office makes it too difficult for its own citizens to get such documentation. I have witnessed it time and time again - so I went to the Australian Passport Office, satisfied their criteria, and obtained in quick time a brand spanking new Ozzie document. So a boy from Greymouth now travels on an Ozzie passport because of his own country's bureaucratic inadequacies. I wonder if I can get one of theirs (the Poms) too and travel at Her Majesty's pleasure; maybe a US Green Card, or the creme de la creme - a Swiss passport. Enough of this introspective rambling inanga out screen presentation courtesy of Picasa 3, Smugmug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
inanga > Good Old Kiwi Land Collage with Bulldozers and No 8 fencing wire No 2 (and heartless self-promotion) courtesy mfnw, inanga, Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009 inanga
inanga > Nikau Palms, Te Punakaiki 240mm x 280mm It is now the frontispiece for my hardcopy portfolio. The latter is slowly being fashioned into a coffee-table style book - part travelogue and part 'the best of...' the galleries'. What can one say about Te Punakaiki in a Blog. Lots. The detail above reflects the beauty in simplicity. If you walk towards the Pancake Rocks and Blowholes you will look out over these Nikau palms - the most southerly growing palm trees in the world - to the Tasman Sea. The coastline here is phenomenal. Princess Nikau gets a feature role amongst the Royal Trees in 'The Battle of the Trees' (look under the leaf in that gallery), an imaginary war between the introduced Pinus species and the indigenous trees of the Nation (Aotearoa) on the plains of Waiouru in the central North Island. Oh, OK, you sense a bit of a Greenie theme creeping in; a potential tree hugger here! When I wrote for Lonely Planet Publications I managed to get the 'wheels' to include a small, but informative section on the Flora & Fauna of Aotearoa (New Zealand) at the front of the book. It has since gone from subsequent editions. I'd just like to say that I would have consulted it at this stage as I write this travel blog of sorts. Their current entry for Te Punakaiki has a bit of me in it "the region is blessed with... a Westland petrel colony, the world's only nesting site of this rare sea bird". As far as I can remember I was the only Lonely Planet writer (apart from Rob from Tucson, Az) who had any feathered ornithological interest. My family now has a bach (weekend accommodation) near Te Punakaiki. It is a monastery of sorts, and it allows much time for contemplation of things spiritual. It has always been a very spiritual place, as it was once a School of Learning for the pre-Maori people of Aotearoa - the Waitaha. What I am about to tell you won't be found in any Lonely Planet type publication. I wrote the current Maoritanga part of their New Zealand guide and I ignored all the real prehistory (and they haven't altered it since). I am not trying to say that they are misguided in their guidance - they just do not know any better and nor did I at that time. And who am I to crow in the benefit of hindsight. Current New Zealand history is bunk, to partially quote Henry Ford. I am about to quote from pp 222-3, Chapter Nine, Song of the God Stone, from The Kete (Basket) of Knowledge of Paparoa in Song of Waitaha - the Number One of a Thousand books you should browse before you die. I explore myth with a Joseph Campbell-ian fascination, and Song of Waitaha is the best preserved myth (history) of all our previous epochs. It is sewn as the Mind Song, but a far more intricate weave than say Bruce Chatwin's 'Songlines' about the Aboriginal cultures of Australia's central deserts. I have some editorials in [ ] brackets. ''Move swiftly on the river to join Te Tai Poutini, the fishing tide' With the sail stretched, and the great tide surging on, we soon lay west of our old home of Whakarerea [Golden Bay]. However, the distance to that shore was so great only our memories pierced the haze between to reach our families. Then the tall mountains of Aotea Roa [South Island] filled our world. They were cloaked with snow and wore their mana proudly. The Long Tide curved towards the coast to find Te Tai Poutini, the current that carried us to Hokitika, Arahura [river] and Waimea Whaka Hirahira [near Paroa], the children born of the 'marriage' of the stars, for we sailed on the joining of Poutini and Mere Pounamu in the heavens. By their light we came to the waters of the God Stone, to the mouth of Nga Wai o Marami [Arahura River], and we went ashore. 'Seek the blue duck plunging beneath the fast waters' Our stay was short because Paparoa knew what he sought. It was a precious taonga [treasure] from the past; a carving in Pounamu [Greenstone]. The hand of Ngahue shaped it; his mind and spirit released the wonders within the God Stone. Ra Kai Hau Tu carried it to these waters, and it has waited eight generations for the dream to bring it to the people again. In the place of the taonga, Paparoa left Rangiruru on the reef beyond the river. We put aside the name Tairea, and sailed as Tirea, to honour the Stone. Sailing north we passed Waimea Whaka Hirahira and came to mighty cliffs and pinnacles, and felt a strength in this land that would never let us go. 'Landfall ahead', cried Te Hau from his station above the splash of the plunging prow. And Te Punakaiki opened before us where the Pororari river joined the ocean. He sat quietly studying the channel to the estuary as we furled the great sail. Then, on his command, our blades lifted and fell as we moved strongly through the surf to run in hard against the tall cliffs and break through to calm waters. The waka rested in the lagoon. We waited quietly, awed by lush green forest, nikau palms and bird song. Then the keening karanga of greeting soared out from Tirea. It rushed past the trees, echoed off the lofty bluffs and silenced the birds to announce our presence. We called inviting answer but none came across the waters. Paddles flashed and we beached our waka and planted karaka trees to put our mana there. Then we lit a small fire to bring our warmth into the land. Its smoke rose through the towering bluffs as if to carry our joyful spirit on the wind to embrace our new home. Caves and rock overhangs gave us shelter. We remained warm and dry, and welcomed the rain, for it gave life to the forests and gardens. Bright was the fire that wrote our story on the stone. The shadows thrown by the women of the waka left wonderful messages for those that would follow us. Huaki felt the warmth of those flames and gave her shape to guide the hands that drew the pictures on the walls. We sailed in the mana of Paparoa, and honoured him by raising his tall figure in stone to look out on the waves forever. Only those who know how to stand to face the tides, know where to see him hidden in the land. In later years, when Paparoa went to answer the last karakia [prayer], we carried his bones to Te Aka Aka o Poutini [Cobden] to rest on the back of the Tuatara [The Twelve Apostle Range]. There he was with Huaki again and in the long nights ahead another would join them. We came to Te Punakaiki to care for the God Stone that called to us from the river. Those with the heart and hands to carve, would sit at the feet of Paparoa to learn how to release the shapes within. And we others would carry the Stone to the peoples of the Nation to honour the dream of Ngahue and Poutini, for we are of the Stone People.' Te Punakaiki, between Westport and Greymouth on the Coast Road, one of the most beautiful drives in the world. Yes, I do see it far more spiritually than when I wrote for Lonely Planet. And those beautiful nikaus are everywhere... inanga Me again. I must confess that one of my character defects is addiction. I am easily addicted to things - must be some sort of chromosone gone west! Well I confess, that even in this embryonic point of my relationship with Blogger I have become addicted to it. The subject of today's Blog is calcite microcrystals. This has absolutely nothing to do with addiction... or then does it? The writing is in the search, in the journey, and let me assure you - well and truly in the now. We have calcite microcrystals in the pineal glands of our brains. The pineal gland is the ajna chakra of all the most ancient Hindu traditions. It is our third eye. It is our gateway to Other dimensions. We have always had a pineal gland lodged in the very centre of our skulls. It is the engine room of your body that bears your soul around on this part of its journey. As children, the calcite microcrystals in our pineal glands were crystal clear until around age twelve - they become covered over with a concretion (thin film of concrete). No more child's eye view of the world, nor a belief in faeries, Santa Claus, and the Easter bunny. In short, paradise or innocence lost. Now don't be frightened away by the list of sources, just look them up on Spider Grandmother's intricately woven web. The keywords are second harmonic generators - any web search will give you all you need to know about getting your third eye powers back. In short - open your third eye with a diet high in whey protein, the source of tryptophan. There are several reasons for all of this, probably the subject of a later blog on inangawiremu.blogspot.com or www.hogproductions.com. It was a few years back that i was first alerted to the subject of second harmonic generators and the benefits of whey protein in removing the concretions from around our laser beam in our pineal third eye. It all had something to do with seeing the light as I remember him saying. He recommended the work of Baconnier Simon, Lang Sidney B. and De Seze Rene Ben-Gurion University of the Negev or lang@bgmail.bgu.ac.il. Their article on Electromechano-transduction describes it all much better than I can blog it. It was fun blogging the memory about Te Punakaiki, a grand example of sum frequency generation if there ever was one. acrylic, gouache, watercolour and goldleaf on thick photographic paper 2006 This painting is dedicated to the caring staff of the Downtown Community Ministry, Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington) and to Pam Whittington QSM JP whose 'The Survival Guide: Surviving on a Low Income in Wellington' was more helpful to an impoverished traveler than any guide i ever wrote for Lonely Planet Publications. You guys are true Samaritans and taught me the meaning of true humility. Who would look after Blanket Man if you didn't? And he is a national treasure. inanga
inanga > The Monks of Te Punakaiki There is a family of Monks that go regularly to Te Punakaiki - I snapped them by the Blowholes and Pancake Rocks, for which the area is famous. acrylic, oil, watercolour (yes in rainbow), glitter and gold leaf 2007 420mm x 700mm inanga
inanga > Camel Rock, Poutini Coast (north of Greymouth) They are often called 'Ships of the Desert', so the sea is as appropriate place as any for a camel. For those not familiar with Aotearoa - New Zealand - i suggest you go into the NZ galleries and take a painting tour - it's like a photographic essay with paintings - using this gallery's Google Earth feature. If you don't like long-winded explanations just turn the captions off. gouache, acrylic and glitter on A3 paper unframed inanga Kaitiaki: Cherish
inanga > Coal Creek Falls, near Runanga It is places like these that attract true contemplatives. gouache, acrylic, oil and canvas collage on canvas board 2007 inanga Kaitiaki: Cole, Runanga
inanga > The Barber, Cobden At the risk of sounding like the decommissioned Lonely Planet writer i am... 'The barber is a climatic phenomenon known as a katabatic wind. Such winds create clouds that flow like waterfalls over the Twelve Apostles hills (depicted here). These are on the northern banks of the Mawhera River; behind them loom the mighty Paparoas. The only other place where such a rare climatic event is seen, is in a valley in Iceland.' acrylic, green oil and spray paint on canvas board 2008 inanga
inanga > Greenstone Dreaming A styilised moai (Easter Island statue) looks out in the mind song to Te Wai Pounamu - the waters of greenstone (South Island of Aotearoa). There is a small chunk of greenstone (jade) on the top of the green part of the ridge. In the Stone Age culture of Aotearoa, greenstone - second in hardness to diamond - was highly sought after. When fashioned as an heirloom it was passed on from generation to generation. The rules simply are: it must be gifted to you. If you buy a piece then you must gift it on. I would never buy a piece and wear it myself. That's now. In the past I have - with disasterous results. gouache, acrylic, oil and pounamu on paper 2007 300mm x 420mm unframed Kaitiaki: Anonymous in Holland inanga
Coal Creek Falls, near Runanga

It is places like these that attract true contemplatives.

gouache, acrylic, oil and canvas collage on canvas board 2007

inanga

Kaitiaki: Cole, Runanga
> Coal Creek Falls, near Runanga It is places like these that attract true contemplatives. gouache, acrylic, oil and canvas collage on canvas board 2007 inanga Kaitiaki: Cole, Runanga
Coal Creek Falls, near Runanga

It is places like these that attract true contemplatives.

gouache, acrylic, oil and canvas collage on canvas board 2007

inanga

Kaitiaki: Cole, Runanga
Camera: Fujifilm (Finepix S20pro ) |
More details: exif |
Original size: 2548px x 1928px |
Current: 397px x 300px |
Other sizes: Small • M • L • O |
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Keywords: jeff lonely god falls hand williams creek zealand coal swirl planet runanga whitebait productions aotearoa wiremu inanga
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