‘I will be known’: A treasured conversation

Our last coffee was had beneath the gaze of Mary, mother of Jesus, on December 17, 2018, some months before she left. I didn’t know it would be our last one-on-one conversation. Neither did she. That’s the point—we rarely know. It’s only afterwards, in retrospect, that these final conversations find their light. Fortuitously, the conversation …

Truth in a post-apocalyptic world (1/5)

Some (slightly revised) thinking from old lecture notes on epistemology in the post-9/11 world, as we approach the end of another decade. (1/5)

Accidental presence

It’s been months since Darlene died, and yet when I come across her words, such as those lingering on old Facebook posts, I’m surprised every time by how palpable the love is in them — more potent now by far than when they first appeared. I’ve never experienced this before. I’ve heard others talk excitedly about …

Beyond Love: The dying man

They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of illusion: beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer …

Tears for my sister of mercy

I'm not a teary man, not really. But I've wept more in the past few weeks than I have in my whole life. And it's all because of Darlene. My friend. Who's dying. I think it's that I've been caught out. I've faced tragedy before. Lots of it, actually. I've experienced the death of people …

Piha rescue: Confronting the agony and ecstasy of isolation

I drove to the beach alone, to photograph the sunset. Alone. And as the sun dipped behind the rocks and its brilliant light squeezed through the gap to illuminate the surf spray like bedroom dust on a moonbeam piercing the tiniest gap in the curtains, it was the aloneness that made the greatest impression. Not …

Crave: Where everybody knows your name

I was conducting an interview recently with a couple of guys I think the world of. But it wasn't going so well. In fact, it was going horribly. Ten minutes into the conversation, they started to argue. Not with me but with each other. I realised later, listening back to the tape, that I had …

Making time: A poem

Once upon a time I might have written a book about space and these walls and how things look About you in your place and me in mine the clock running down crisscrossed timelines About a life in the spotlight a story, a plot me, the protagonist likely or not About vaulting my hurdles big …

I wanna know what love is: Narcissism and the crisis of our age

For the past few weeks I’ve had this image in my head, of a guy standing on the middle of a bridge, rooted to the spot but looking forward, as if contemplating his next move but being quite unable to make it. The image came out of nowhere, unbidden, but hung around, and I wondered …