Daffodil Day in Carterton was a wash-out this year, which is a shame for the stallholders, Richard and I decided in the afternoon to check out the Waiart art sale at the Events Centre. Wow what amazing painters, potters and sculpters we have here, hundreds of paintings, a visual tapestry of colour and culture.
We got to Peter Quests work and I remember when he first started doing his form of ‘word’ art. I bought two of his early works for $50 when I had hardly any money, but he had even less than me. I supported him as an artist and he has continued to get support from King Street Artworks. His work has developed and I love it even more now. Then my heart sinks as I recall that Peter was one of those instrumental in getting me trespassed from King Street Artworks because I was upset with being censored, how King Street was run and how some people were treated by staff.
We also passed some Linda Tilyard paintings, which I loved – such a beautiful person, so nice. And yet another person who was instrumental in getting me unfairly trespassed and refused to allow me back without conditions about the work I produce.
I sat and talked to an older man with some paintings, we discussed his work. I recited him a poem called Wairarapa Spring, he was very impressed and asked my name etc. I told him I had been involved with Waiart in the past but they didn’t like my politics so I couldn’t do my poetry. That I had been treated badly and being the fragile artist that I was was very hurt by what had happened.
Richard and I walked on, Ian Chapman walked past, the person who is directly responsible for having me trespassed, censoring my poetry and art and discriminating against me further by refusing me access to mental health services through King Street Artworks.
I had an almost overwhelming urge to start reciting wasps in the beehive in a very loud voice. Two women overheard Richard and I talking about reciting poetry but me deciding against it. They wanted me to – so I recited Wasps In The Beehive (normal volume)- a poem that Waiart would not have allowed me to perform. Then I recited Wairarapa Spring, which was an almost perfect description of the weather and landscape of the day. A small group of people gathered to listen. I just love doing random poetry at things like this – so why was a so humiliated by Waiart when I first had the opportunity.
I can’t recall the people’s names now, but a few years ago when I first started selling my handmade books I was talking with one of the ladies from Waiart. It was their annual exhibition and I suggested I could come along and do a few poems as I had been reciting poems there with a friend and the acoustics were good. She thought it was a great idea, I arrived on the day of the auction/event all dressed and prepared to perform only to be told that I couldn’t as my the poems I was going to do needed to be seen by the committee.
At the time I was unwell, fragile and suicidal, but trying my best to get on with my life and make the most of something I was good at – poetry. I was going to do some of my beautiful garden poems as there were some beautiful paintings of gardens and flowers. I knew my audience would be hostile towards any of my political poems and didn’t intend to use these – but so what if I had – my political poetry is well received wherever I go – (eg Probus).
I have never been back to Waiart since I left that day crying, I was so humiliated. I remember after the person told me I couldn’t perform I stood there trying not to cry, feeling so bad, rejected, discriminated against based on my politics (ie that I protested about appauling mental health services for abused and mentally ill). After a few minutes of trying to hold back my emotions I started to have a panic attack so almost ran out the door with tears streaming down my face. The woman from Waiart just watched me go.
I see those woman from Waiart now and they all look at me strangely. I never say hello even though I know them. I wonder who told them not to allow me to perform? Was it anybody from King Street Artworks?
It is sad the Human Rights Commission, Health & Disability Commission and local news media didn’t act on my complaints about King Street artworks censoring my art. Then I had it censored in the community like this and so it goes – which is why I love chalking my poetry in the street. They can’t shut that down – if I had the balls I would chalk bomb Masterton one day this week.
………………….. It’s 3.30am, I’m tired, I wish people knew my whole story and National voters were forced to acknowledge the harm inequality is causing to the fabric of our culture/society.
Art should never be censored, it is against the declaration on Human Rights and NZ Bill of Rights. It was one of the first thing Hitler did to control everybody- censor artists – he also gassed people he considered mentally ill – eg women that had been repeatedly raped and abused.
They don’t use gas now of course, they use psychotropic experimental drugs, your prison is in the community and your ongoing punishment and degradation is poverty, welfare or shit work.
Welcome to the darklands of New Zealand – this is not the culture/country I was bought up in and I reject neo-liberalism as a violation of my cultural beliefs in equality and justice. I do not want those greedy immoral New Zealanders that have so much, dictating that they should get more and the poorest most vulnerable people should get less – on top of bureaucrats finding more ways of degrading those needing help.
We have poor disabled people who are refugees in their own country, while the wealthy have a great time, often owning more than one home. The government considers the Americas Cup a priority over mental health services and homes for poor people? WTF – Then our pieces of excrement politicians call themselves ‘honourable’ – yeah right. And often they give each other knighthoods for being vile degrading immoral elitist ignorant bigoted hypocrites. Fuck they gave Roger Douglas one for bringing in neo-liberalism and fucking up our country for half the population!
What pisses me off with our biased New Zealand media is we see nothing on TV about other countries protests against free trade and neo-liberalism, inequality etc. We don’t see protests like mine about mental health services, welfare, justice, the economy, etc Its sick, if National party votes don’t know the truth about what is happening to the poorest most vulnerable people then how are they going to make an informed decision?
Bloody lying, bloody media – their job, their job, their job
Bloody right-wing bloody media – they have been appauling this election, with a few exceptions.
mmmmm I can hear a poem coming on.
Will edit this when the sun comes up.
Mmmmm When the Sun Comes Up – now that sounds like the title of a poem or song.