Thinking about becoming an Agony Angel.

It's like “advice, with a side of spice”, or “news, you can use” says my Mum, Charlotte Hoggard.

Ahoy! It’s Monday again. 12:49pm. 4 hours and 11 (angel number) minutes before my self imposed deadline of 5pm slaps me in the face. I’ve written nothing. Some days I say it’s ADHD, other times I say I’ve been procrastinating. Serge told me on the phone this morning that I sound like a proper writer, because writer’s are often good at that. Thank you Serge, I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m a writer, my brother even says so!

Do you know what, it’s like every second I put off the writing, the more fun I end up having and the more I say yes to connecting with my people. The more connection I embrace, the more I accept how I’m truly feeling, and the more present I can be in my reality, when I finally sit down at the table and get to writing. So let’s get to it.

The heatwave is over and the Santa Ana winds are here. They’ve started. I can feel them. The back of my throat tickles. It’s definitely not the camel blues. It’s the wind. I feel allergic. I’m worn out by it. I’m tired. The devils winds they’re called. Rumoured to cause mood swings, homicides, earthquakes and my favourite, “infect dissatisfied wives and argumentative husbands with thoughts of mayhem”.

The first time I learned of the Santa Ana winds was in the opening pages of White Oleander by Janet Fitch. I read that book in Auckland, NZ, during 2015, aka my deeply depressed and tortured poetry era. My friend Georgia recommended it to me. She had so much sage wisdom to share.

“The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shrivelling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders thrived, their delicate poisonous blooms, their dagger green leaves. We could not sleep in the hot dry nights, my mother and I. Lovers who kill each other now will blame it on the wind.” She held up her large hand and spread the fingers, let the desert dryness lick through. My mother was not herself in the time of the Santa Anas.”

So has anyone else experienced mood swings in the last day or so? Personally I have. I would like to blame them on the wind, why not. My Mum laughed when I pointed out the wind today because she lives in Wellington, which as I’ve previously mentioned, is the windiest city in the world. I feel so curious about that. I wonder what the recorded statistics are for mood swings and whether they can be tracked on a graph, in comparison to the wind patterns of the world. It would be so great to simply tell everyone who has been made to feel crazy that they’re not. It reminds me of Andy Goldsworthy’s saying “we are nature”. Anyway, a thesis for another day. Let’s press on.

The real truth of the matter is that I’ve actually been having an awful lot of fun over the last week. Too much fun to sit down. Might be hard to believe I know. I’ve been living life. Collecting anecdotes. Being. I’ve changed personalities since we last met here a week ago. I’ve had a rebirth. Another one. This time in the depths of the dusty desert at The Integratron. Please bear with me as it gets a bit whacky doo dah this bit.