Iona Winter

October was exceptionally difficult, with the ending of a relationship I had given myself fully to, health issues that resurfaced requiring serious management, and on top of that a tonne of preparation for the Te Hau Kāika exhibition. ‘Bring on freaking November,’ I said (in a surreptitious manner under my breath).

You asked for it…

Best Small Fictions 2019 was released in the USA. Being nominated was an honour, but then to have my story Toetoe accepted as a finalist for publication was incredible. I’m looking forward to my copy arriving in the post, and being able to hold it in my hands (cos I’m old school). Here in Aotearoa New Zealand, we’ll be having readings from Best Small Fictions (as there are a host of kiwi writers in this year’s anthology) in Auckland and Christchurch in 2020.

The inaugural Queenstown Writers Festival was fantastic. My flash fiction workshop was sold out before I arrived, and the organising committee took such loving care of me it was difficult to believe it was true. I came away with a very full manawa (heart).

Te Hau Kāika, an intergenerational multimedia exhibition with Reuben Winter and Grace Verweij, was lit (as they say). At both opening and closing events I performed my poetry live. Reuben had written tracks for each of the ten poems, and Grace had created film and sculpture. We wove putiputi harakeke (flax flowers) together as whānau, and added these to the exhibition space throughout the week. The public were able to enter the gallery to listen, read, smell, touch and feel because everything remained in the space. At our closing event guest readers, Robyn Maree Pickens, Kirstie McKinnon and Kathryn van Beek, and guest musician Joseph Boath performed with Reuben in response to Te Hau Kāika. Many people said they were moved to tears, where others felt challenged by the intensity of our experiences of being dislocated and disconnected from ancestral Māori whenua (land), marae (meeting houses), and iwi (tribe).

The exhibition surfaced many emotions for the three of us. Things we’d not been conscious of became ripe berries that burst during the week. But we were lovingly present with each other, in order to speak them aloud, share tears and laughter, and begin our individual processes of resolution. I went into this exhibition without expectation, and was in awe at the generous and loving responses from our friends, whānau and the public. It was an indefinable experience of aroha (love), awenga (presence) and wairua (spirit). I am indebted to Reuben and Grace for taking up the wero (challenge) for us to collaborate at a geographical distance before bringing all of the facets together in Waitati.

Portal to the Stars (a new poem) was published in Landfall,  Aotearoa New Zealand’s most established literary journal. Kirstie McKinnon and I celebrated with a lush afternoon tea in her garden, because it was the first time either of us had had a poem accepted into Landfall.

The Community of Kamau Taurua/Quarantine Island have just offered me a short residency next year on the island. Another first for me (after years of unsuccessful residency applications) and right in my backyard. I am looking forward to immersing myself in the environment, exploring while looking over to the mainland, and am excited to see what creative work emerges.

Finally, the most recent (and frankly stunning) review of then the wind came, almost a year after publication https://amandamcleodwrites.com/2019/11/18/book-review-then-the-wind-came-by-iona-winter/

Wishing everyone who reads this aroha and light as you head towards the end of 2019. Wherever you are, and whomever you are with (or without) e noho rā (be well).

Iona x