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Amazing Spaces’ George Clarke is back on the road with Trustee Stan Scott

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Hone Tuwhare Charitable Trust Trustee Stan Scott is on location in the South Island with “Amazing Spaces’” George Clark this week. They will meet up with trustee Rob Tuwhare to have a bit of a korero during the week.
The architect is back in Aotearoa, filming more stories about Kiwis doing amazing things in small spaces. His stories will be shown on Mitre 10’s online TV channel. Mitre 10 is partnering with the Hone Tuwhare Charitable Trust in the restoration of Hone’s crib at Kaka Point.
Read more here: http://www.stuff.co.nz/life-style/home-property/89638399/amazing-spaces-george-clarke-is-back-on-the-road-meeting-kiwis

 

 

 

 

 

Photo: New Zealand House & Garden

Lotteries Award to help establish the first writers’ residency in the home of a Maori writer

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Lotteries Award to help establish the first writers’ residency in the home of a Maori writer

The Hone Tuwhare Charitable Trust has just been awarded $100,000 by the Lottery World War One Commemorations, Environment and Heritage Committee to restore and repair the South Otago crib of ‘people’s poet’ Hone Tuwhare (1922 – 2008).

Trust Chair Dr Noel Waite says, “the Trust is delighted that, with the support of Lotteries, we can preserve Hone’s former home as a vital first step in developing a new writers’ and artists’ residency.”

Friend

Do you remember
that wild stretch of land
with the lone tree guarding the point
from the sharp-tongued sea?

The fort we built out of branches
wrenched from the tree
is dead wood now.
The air that was thick with the whirr of
toetoe spear succumbs at last to the grey gull's wheel.

Oyster-studded roots
of the mangrove yield no finer feast
of silver-bellied eels, and sea-snails
cooked in a rusty can.

Allow me to mend the broken ends
of shared days:
but I wanted to say
that the tree we climbed
that gave food and drink
to youthful dreams, is no more.
Pursed to the lips her fine-edged
leaves made whistle - now stamp
no silken tracery on the cracked
clay floor.

Friend,
in this drear
dreamless time I clasp
your hand if only to reassure
that all our jewelled fantasies were
real and wore splendid rags.

Perhaps the tree
will strike fresh roots again:
give soothing shade to a hurt and
troubled world.