Oh there’s been a lifetime of experience in the gap between these diary entries. Last I wrote I had just touched down in New Zealand, and then got blown away by the niceness of my bedroom and a coffee shop. And now I am 4 months a local, writing to you from a radio station turned apartment in a northern Kiwi surf town.
It’s not like it was once a radio station, and is now an apartment. It is a radio station that, at night, becomes an apartment. And it’s our apartment– for the next four days at least, while we tour Tauranga’s hot springs and talk to new friends about self-hosted clouds and how to make kubernetes computer swarms accessible to everyone.
We are having a sweet, strange life. Every time I try to write about it, it comes out like a transcription of a dream journal scribble. On my first week here, a couple of in-love Tasmanian synth poppers rented the room across from mine, found out I was a barber, and asked if I could trim their hair. So I cut their hair on my flatmate friend’s beautiful deck, watching the Sunday morning sun rise above the harbor, and in trade I got entrance into their show that night, the one being held inside an old fish and chippery that had since been turned into a radical shoe-making school. The dreaminess has not let up since then, it’s just gotten more intense because we feel so much at home in this gentle, strange whimsy and are working real hard to stay.
I’ma prolly talk about code a lil bit more in coolguy. I don’t think it’s a major part of how I talk about my life here, but computers give me so many feeeeeeeelings and coolguy is all about feelings. There’s a wonderful solarpunk balance of nature and computers here in New Zealand and here in my heart and I wanna talk more about both.
But not tonight it turns out. I just had a super-hot bath, and ate a big bowl of chips in the bath like I was fucking King Ralph, and now I’m mad sleepy. I am typing to you from the living room of 104.5 and every time I look up I see a signed photo of Josh Groban and a photo of Emmylou Harris posing with our AirBnB host. I’ma fall asleep to a dream and wake up to another, just a steady chain of dreams interlocked like train cars.