1989 is the birth of the House, an abandoned shack or what I would call a poorly designed, “cheaply built” piece of infrastructure, surrounded by poorer housing and residents. The non-existent basic need for simple drainage infrastructure made it a hell of a place to live if one even cared about their health. The place of what I would come to know as my refuge, my habitat, my own centrality of heart where I learned to walk, to speak, to read and to differentiate good from evil (not always in the right context) and where I remember my first real experiences of my existence “my real home”. The sky blue canvas on the side of the house faced the road with no windows to see out, making it an uncomfortable position. Situated on the flat geothermal plains of 35A Parakai Ave, less than a hundred meters from the Kaipara River, the South Kaipara area historically occupied by the Ngāti Whātua Māori tribe. In 1998, the place sold for $108,000 off a deceased estate. The previous owner was a middle-aged woman, a local probably similar to most women....