{"pageProps":{"article":{"content":[{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"style":"normal","_key":"87ceacb9a59f","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_key":"adb7774b1af80","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"The first time I cruised didn’t feel real, it felt like some forgotten fantasy I had created many summers ago. On the cusp of turning 18, I spent two months living in London with a high-school friend. I was in my first year of uni in Aotearoa and she was finishing high school. M’s house was on the Vale of Health, a street that led directly into Hampstead Heath – cutting through the Heath and back onto the main road by Whitestone Pond was the easiest way to and from from the bus stop closest to her house. That afternoon, I think I was on my way to meet M and some of her friends for a pint. The summer was viscous and blurry, I was in an unfamiliar, inconceivably large place, and – for the most part – anonymous and able to be whoever I wanted."}],"_type":"block"}],"_key":"40669492fd2c"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"I saw obvious clues as to what went on there – empty amyl bottles, stray used condoms and tissues strewn on the sides of the path.","_key":"d942622ceb78"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"6767e4a48e4c"}],"_key":"c5c81dc7c441"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"b1926fa18110","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Cruising areas often hold something thick and layered; indescribable and subtle but impossible not to notice. Something like an opaque veneer that only becomes visible in the right light, like a car door in the sun flashing a strange reflection at you. The West Heath was like this. A shifting lapse in reality to dip in and out of. Once within, time, place and body become malleable and shifting. Being a young, inexperienced, Gen Z gay man, I had no clue what cruising was, but walking those paths felt rousing and awry. Something lingered there. I was on my way to the bus stop, and maybe it was the heat or something about the magnetism that day but I kept walking, past the bus stop and into the West Heath. Following the path deeper into the Heath, I saw obvious clues as to what went on there – empty amyl bottles, stray used condoms and tissues strewn on the sides of the path. It was late afternoon and after a few minutes of walking I saw various men intersect, pair up and walk off. The parameters of the situation I now found myself in became clear, and I kept walking. I told myself I was purely there as an observer, just to see what was going on. I watched men do their dance together on the paths ahead, a lingering glance over the shoulder, a soft beckoning to follow, an initial contact. What happened next is where I’m unsure of the truth. A guy whose face I can no longer remember was staring at me. I gave myself permission to approach. We didn’t talk, he gestured for me to follow, we found a tree to lean up against and performed oral sex on each other, he came, I left. I don’t know what lie I told M as to why I was late.","_key":"81eb74e336c0"}]},{"style":"normal","_key":"a6094637bae0","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Desire can be a propelling force, a possession. Feeling the curvatures of this desire shapeshift within you can be a terrifying but also a pleasurable rush, a quiet rupture/rapture: in who you think you are and the eventual rapturous departure from that. It is insatiably liberating to submit to, allowing it to stir and move you. I remember feeling entirely unlike myself and more like myself than I maybe ever had. There’s a plurality and contradiction in this dance. Being in the Heath that afternoon felt like stumbling across a profound and salacious secret I didn’t quite have the words for, but also refused to talk about, out of shame more than anything. I felt like an indecent, dirty fag, even amongst other gay men. It became a memory I locked away somewhere, out of shame; in my recollection, the truth of what happened and how shame has potentially warped my memory have become indiscernible. ","_key":"24baff0bf244"}],"_type":"block"}],"_key":"636724780363ceb355c38dd61d3153cb"},{"_type":"articleLongquote","description":[{"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Location is the key to respectability, it’s like cocaine in the boardroom and the needle of the streets. But for those who know, the alfresco fuck is the original fuck. Didn’t the Garden of Eden come before the house which hid our nakedness? Sex on the Heath is an idyll pre-fall. Did Adam masturbate until God hacked out his rib to create Eve?","_key":"10b5912eb1a70"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"c3f065d2a0fc","markDefs":[]},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"— ","_key":"8587e38ea5b60"},{"marks":[],"text":"Derek Jarman, 1993","_key":"8587e38ea5b61","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"643fc94a2bc7"}],"_key":"dc2ce5a6b127"},{"description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_key":"d5124688a6bc0","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"‘Cruising’"},{"marks":["em"],"text":" ","_key":"d5124688a6bc1","_type":"span"},{"text":"is potentially derived from the 17th-century Dutch word ‘kruisen’,","_key":"d5124688a6bc2","_type":"span","marks":[]},{"marks":["em"],"text":" ","_key":"d5124688a6bc3","_type":"span"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"meaning ‘to cross’. I enjoy the serendipity in other etymological facets of this word. ","_key":"d5124688a6bc4"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Cross my heart","_key":"d5124688a6bc5"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" as a vow. ","_key":"d5124688a6bc6"},{"_key":"d5124688a6bc7","_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Crossing over"},{"_key":"d5124688a6bc8","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" as a euphemism for dying. To "},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"cross someone’s path","_key":"d5124688a6bc9"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":". To ","_key":"d5124688a6bc10"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"cross someone’s mind","_key":"d5124688a6bc11"},{"marks":[],"text":". The ","_key":"d5124688a6bc12","_type":"span"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Oxford English Dictionary","_key":"d5124688a6bc13"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" states contemporary (non-sexual) cruising as the action of sailing about in an area without a precise destination, especially for pleasure. Historically, cruising was birthed out of necessity, during a time when Queer identities still existed in the margins of a society that actively discriminated against them. It provided a space where one could meet others like oneself while still having the safety of anonymity and avoiding the oppressive forces of the outside world. But now, in places like London, places where being Queer no longer places you exclusively in the margins, you would assume that the function of these spaces would be obsolete, yet they persist. I don’t mean to suggest that cruising experiences are singular or monolithic by any means. As curator and writer Tommaso Speretta puts it in ","_key":"d5124688a6bc14"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Cruising Curating","_key":"d5124688a6bc15"},{"text":", cruising is something that deals with “multiple singularities over singular multiplicities and seeks to create the conditions for multiple subjectivities to emerge and co-exist.” By which meaning, my singularity is not ","_key":"d5124688a6bc16","_type":"span","marks":[]},{"text":"the","_key":"d5124688a6bc17","_type":"span","marks":["em"]},{"_key":"d5124688a6bc18","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" singularity. Cruising areas provide myriad necessary functions for people of different intersections of Queerness. It can be a space to work, a space to explore Queer sex when it is not safe elsewhere, a space for kink. What I’m curious about is what of Queer people like myself: if the conditions that would push us to cruise aren’t there, why do we still partake when there are ‘better’ options? Is it the itch it scratches? And if so, what is that itch?"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"9e5f00add1cd"}],"_key":"0269d7fdf925","_type":"articleText"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"It can be a space to work, a space to explore Queer sex when it is not safe elsewhere, a space for kink. ","_key":"36e09be8175d"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"28aea63adaab"}],"_key":"3457beb5b04d"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"style":"normal","_key":"18746056f856","markDefs":[],"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"I suppose Queerness is something that constantly contends with the perceived and lived self, so perhaps what cruising spaces have become (for some) may just be a testing ground for that. A rehearsal room behind the stage. A primed space to play with your perceived self and the subsequent enactment of who you choose to become in that moment. It’s a confrontation with our liminality, and a necessary one. Queer life is a series of constant and continual beginnings, and inversely, constant endings. Always in flux, in a state of becoming. These encounters in public space are an oscillation of fractured beginnings and endings.","_key":"b0a074b0db7d0","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block"}],"_key":"15a2d77bbbca"},{"image":{"_type":"image","asset":{"_ref":"image-2f266338b617a9b4edad44a08d82b888432c31e1-2970x4443-jpg","_type":"reference"}},"_type":"articleImage","description":[{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"31e0ba6941f9","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Photograph: Tom Denize","_key":"dcc937f15030"}]}],"_key":"6143ce6c871e14d746e1d064952cb792","mode":"default"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"_key":"3e9fb7f255f6","markDefs":[],"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"The feelings I associate with this conceptual space and the physical space itself are intermingled, braided together. The stage this happens on is important. There’s a reason I’m talking about public cruising and not online cruising. Both reach similar conclusions, just through different means. But the baggage and nuances of the online grids on Grindr, Sniffies or Scruff don’t seem pertinent. Instead, what grips me is the concealed yet entirely visible nature of cruising spaces. Michel Foucault’s theory of heterotopia explores the idea of worlds that exist between our reality and a utopia, confined by the laws and rules of our reality, a pocket world within our own. A placeless place. A place where the laws of the outside world can become pliable and elastic. I can experience my body in a different way here; the distinctions between You and Me become porous, and the proverbial Us becomes expansive and encompassing. Poet Anne Carson speaks to the idea that the self forms along the scalloped and misshapen edges of desire, but being here pushes those edges I’ve perceived previously to be rigid or fixed. When ‘here’, my perceived self crumples and expands. It runs ahead of me through the trees in the park, sometimes leaving me behind completely. In that absence, I can make a choice of who I wish to be. Having this sort of agency over the self, even if only momentarily, is intoxicating. Cruising spaces, being neither here nor there, are perfect ground for this expansion. My ","_key":"611bd1b20ffd","_type":"span"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"self ","_key":"59b37397ebbe"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"empties. I become opaque here. The street lamps shine through this opaque vestige and I can then see it reflected or refracted through who I meet. Watch it shift as it reflects unto the other.","_key":"a14175790982"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"}],"_key":"330e4c0b12b063b92a9178f8ca7bd1da"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"a9599e68077d","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"When ‘here’, my perceived self crumples and expands. It runs ahead of me through the trees in the park, sometimes leaving me behind completely.","_key":"30e680255d05"}]}],"_key":"ab552d9d98f060025bc8f5b6c1a377f0"},{"_key":"81889ec396d0","_type":"articleText","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"When I immigrated to Melbourne, my first time cruising had become a faraway memory I’m not entirely sure was real in the first place. I hadn’t cruised since. I had yet to reconcile the shame I still held close to that experience. Not long after moving, I was walking home after work through Alma Park and felt that same heavy thickness I had felt in the Heath. In the coming weeks, I began to frequent the park, making observations at various times of the day and night. The smell of the toilet block at the entrance to the park, the small room cut into the bamboo hedge, and the street-lamp light shifting the space beyond the paved pathway. I continued doing this until I permitted myself to participate. Despite my shame, I belong here, or at least a part of me does, and because of that, I can ask myself why I do. Sometimes it’s easy for me (being Gen Z) to forget the generation lost during the HIV crisis, so there is often an implicit mourning in cruising – it’s a practice experienced by my forebears, and I mourn their lives, the ones I know about and all the ones I don’t. By engaging with this historical continued event, by cruising, I’m satiating a part of Queer past and also Queer present/future. Being here can be a way to transgress the conventions of time; it’s a dance, it’s tradition, it’s ritual. I recently talked to a friend who said it feels “almost ancestral.” I suppose it is – I’m always walking in the light of this past and cruising is a reminder of that.","_key":"b7e425f8fb920"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"4afc08e43520"}]},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"By engaging with this historical continued event, by cruising, I’m satiating a part of Queer past and also Queer present/future.","_key":"fb76bba5c0a4"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"a068fedea5bd"}],"_key":"19b4d54ac864"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"text":"When existing inside of a Queer temporality, past, present and future run concurrently with each other, not separately. In Mckenzie Wark’s text ","_key":"7a06c939628b0","_type":"span","marks":[]},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Raving","_key":"7a06c939628b1"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":", she","_key":"7a06c939628b2"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":" ","_key":"7a06c939628b3"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"speaks to Queer time as existing on a continuum separate from “(colonial) historic time”, not negating it but temporarily puncturing through it. To further conceptualise and understand a Queer mode of time, it’s worth mentioning its shortcomings. This mode is not a pervasive way of existing, this temporality can only be accessed in certain places. Felt under specific conditions that allow it to flourish. Queer time does not exist as an answer to the dominance of ‘Western time’, rather, it is beholden to it as a means of relief, a salve. Queer time can be a momentary breakdown of dominant structures, but not a complete dismantling. It’s in this way that it becomes distinct from other cyclical, non-linear understandings of time that exist in various non-Western and Indigenous frameworks; these exist ","_key":"7a06c939628b4"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"beyond","_key":"7a06c939628b5"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" Western time, not in spite of it. As Steven Pile states in ","_key":"7a06c939628b6"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Opposition, Political Identities, and Spaces of Resistance","_key":"7a06c939628b7"},{"text":",","_key":"7a06c939628b8","_type":"span","marks":[]},{"text":" ","_key":"7a06c939628b9","_type":"span","marks":["em"]},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"“There is never one geography of authority and there is never one geography of resistance. Further, the map of resistance is not simply the underside of the map of domination – if only because each is a lie to the other, and each gives the lie to the other.”","_key":"7a06c939628b10"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"a37b7a55c9bf"}],"_key":"7c0e03ec5c5b"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Queer time can be a momentary breakdown of dominant structures, but not a complete dismantling.","_key":"fee20d381ff1"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"e1436c86acde"}],"_key":"76943753d87f"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"style":"normal","_key":"cb72d1496be5","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_key":"7abcdcba58760","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"The theory around Queer time is still new and burgeoning, it often asks more questions than it answers, but with an acknowledging of limits, we can start imagining new possibilities beyond these. What would it mean for Queer time to be felt beyond the spaces I’m ascribing it to? Are there ways we can take it with us more pertinently when we leave these spaces? Or is there sanctity in its limits? These are questions that I don’t yet have answers for. For now, what I can speak to is that, on entering a cruising space, the walls of past, present and future momentarily break down and a crossing between people, love, ecstasy and experience rushes through. Past, present and future are growing together, as is the root system under me where I now kneel and look up at what might be a mirror reflecting unto me."}],"_type":"block"}],"_key":"936eb65a10e4"}],"_id":"6a9fdf2f-4f3c-4feb-a8db-6a8d8d57befe","_createdAt":"2024-02-27T08:12:57Z","_updatedAt":"2024-03-01T03:17:28Z","readTime":"10m","authors":[{"excerpt":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Tom Denize is an artist and emerging curator based in Naarm/Melbourne, currently undertaking a Masters of Fine Arts at Melbourne University. 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","_key":"fe58cbb7eb7c0"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Āhua","_key":"fe58cbb7eb7c1"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" felt like a patchwork quilt, where all the artists had created incredibly varied work, but all were discussing similar notions of self and belonging. All of the art had a similar mauri, but a very different āhua. This speaks to a diversity of voice, within diverse communities. Which is something that we are so rarely able to see, because we are simply not given the room to take up this much space.","_key":"fe58cbb7eb7c2"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"fe58cbb7eb7c","markDefs":[]},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Minority communities are too often marginalised within the ‘traditional art world’ – often referred to as the ‘white cube’, a reference to the gallery aesthetic characterised by cubic room shapes and white walls. 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Establishing samesame was perhaps unsurprising for the literary giant, Wells already had a decades-long career of breaking barriers for the LGBTQIA+ community in both the publishing and film scenes of Aotearoa."}]},{"_key":"2f5b46620c88","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"In the programme for the first event, hosted in 2016, Wells reflects on how his sexuality was instrumental in building his identity as a writer:","_key":"2f5b46620c880"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"}],"_key":"row-10429","_type":"articleText"},{"_type":"articleLongquote","description":[{"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"“I was always a very timid boy. This was after I was bullied at Mt Albert Grammar. But I have to thank the bullies because I became a writer, which enabled me to say on paper what I couldn’t say out loud.","_key":"97d7786bab630"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"97d7786bab63","markDefs":[]},{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"05e7cf52802c","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"This small journey is the experience of many LGBTQI people. Language is our first line of defence … Language is what defines us as humans. Choice is what makes us who we are.”","_key":"05e7cf52802c0"}]}],"_key":"row-10430"},{"description":[{"children":[{"_key":"21cf647d26610","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Two years later, in 2018, Wells began his director’s address for the festival from hospital, where he was undergoing treatment for cancer. That edition of the samesame but differentfestival was to be his last, as he passed away in early 2019. Wells writes:"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"21cf647d2661","markDefs":[]}],"_key":"row-10431","_type":"articleText"},{"_type":"articleLongquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"“We started samesame to give ourselves – our words, feelings, frustrations, our opinions, outrage and even our contemplated silences – a very special space in which we could communicate.”","_key":"530d9dc227ef0"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"530d9dc227ef"}],"_key":"row-10432"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"style":"normal","_key":"3bac223e8d04","markDefs":[],"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"Five years on, Wells’ vision of the festival remains alive and well.","_key":"3bac223e8d040","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block"},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"text":"On one of those quiet, grey sort of days that is so typical of Tāmaki, I headed along to my very first event at samesame – the poetry speakeasy, held in Grey Lynn Library. 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At the event, there was an unspoken welcoming, the unparalleled acceptance of Queerness in all its forms, iterations and disguises. Any Queer person will recognise this magic as hard won. For one of the first times in my life, I felt like I didn’t have to perform Queerness, or hide it. I could simply exist in my Queerness, whatever that meant to me.","_key":"b198138d0f010"}],"_type":"block"},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"This diversity of Queerness was present in the poems, too. There were quiet poems, loud poems, angry poems, poems about the end of the world, poems about being a dyke on the street, poems about migration, about religion, about home and belonging, about mothers; long poems, lyrical poems, comical poems, poems that drew on antiquity, on the long and often unspoken traditions of Queerness, and poems that dared to forge new futures.","_key":"a9790c90efab0"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"a9790c90efab"},{"style":"normal","_key":"267106b9a329","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"As Wells alludes to in his 2016 address, there’s something about writing and creating that is fundamentally “Queer”. Good writing often breaks norms, explores boundaries, explodes worlds and creates new ways of seeing, thinking and feeling. But as Giacon says, there’s something special about being immersed in a Queer space. Even now I can’t put my finger on it. 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Giacon says one way they’ve achieved this is to keep refreshing the board – adding new members, new perspectives and new ideas. Yet they “always come back to the community”.","_key":"06e8af492ea00","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"},{"_key":"a8ffca2e92c0","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"“We want to keep on the pulse of what is happening in the Queer literary world, and evolve and incorporate our past. There’s a sense of ever-widening circles, with a core kaupapa.”","_key":"a8ffca2e92c00"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"Sitting in the audience that Saturday, during the main line-up, I certainly felt the themes of evolution reverberating through each speaker’s words. Writers young and old, established and emerging, spoke on the ways they’ve evolved their practice.","_key":"ca138c9ac6170"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"ca138c9ac617"}],"_key":"row-10437","_type":"articleText"},{"description":[{"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"Badges for sale at samesame festival's Friday programme","_key":"be920ca36cd50","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"be920ca36cd5","markDefs":[]}],"_key":"row-10438","mode":"default","image":{"railsData":{"metadata":{"width":850,"height":510,"filename":null,"size":749485,"mime_type":"image/png"},"id":"image/10585/attachment/e900ddc0b0c81d36a3d66ace1f45c8e4","storage":"store"},"_type":"image","alt":null,"_key":"a5adaf2b9a35","asset":{"_weak":true,"_ref":"image-5a5128821845b7976365d0e6dff8b4b342408326-850x510-jpg","_type":"reference"}},"_type":"articleImage"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"52812e387e9d","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"The event Tuākana/Teina, chaired by Aroha Awarau, embodied this theme most clearly, exploring intergenerational iterations of Queer writing, their inspirations and their influences. But other panels also spoke to the theme of evolution, echoing and amplifying its meanings along the way. In We Are All Writers, chaired by Grace Shelley, panellists interrogated the evolution of writing and storytelling itself – does a story need to be written down to be valid? 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At samesame, certain writers, authors, poets and performers come back year after year, whether as panellists, performers or board members. This year, one notable recurring guest was Honoured Writer Chris Tse, our newly appointed Poet Laureate. His evolution is a remarkable one, becoming the first Gay Chinese poet in the role. 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In their lecture, ranapiri explored the many poems about Hinemoana, teased out recurring themes, and asked why Queer Māori poets are so drawn to Hinemoana.","_key":"afeda60b34220"}],"_type":"block"},{"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"“There’s something to be said about fluidity,” ranapiri said. They talked about the unwritten history of Queerness, and how Hinemoana was overlooked in favour of the male atua of the sea, Tangaroa. Perhaps modern poets are drawing on Hinemoana as a way to allude to that unspoken, hidden and overlooked history, suggested ranipiri. At these words the room rippled with recognition. The ocean is vast and ancient and mysterious, always changeable yet a constant presence; Hinemoana is an atua that has been overlooked, forgotten and buried in post-colonial times. There is little oral tradition to reconstruct her with, and that’s precisely what makes her Queer, said ranapiri. 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And the future is Queer. It’s evident in the expansion of the festival in recent years. At this year’s event, there was a sense of anticipation, of being on the precipice of a great movement in literature. This year, samesame truly embodied a Queerevolution of literature in Aotearoa. And judging from the excellent work of Queer writers being released non-stop of late, there’s no sign of slowing down.","_key":"c88c2d4e8d010","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"c88c2d4e8d01"},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"When asked what his vision of the future of samesameis, Giacon says he believes the festival will continue expanding, moving away from Tāmaki to the wider reaches of Aotearoa. 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Naomii Seah reflects on the festival’s beginnings as she attends its diverse spread of offerings as part of Auckland Pride.\n","_key":"0002"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"0001"}],"seo":{"image":{"_type":"image","asset":{"_type":"reference","_ref":"image-f4c19229560a2d712eac20b6c16a15ead80e6b6b-1723x1080-jpg"}},"description":"samesame but different is one of the most exciting Queer literary festivals out there! 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Damien Levi (Te Ātihaunui-a-Pāpārangi) and Amber Esau (Ngāpuhi/ Manase), co-editors of the debut poetry collection from Āporo Press, greeted attendees at the door - surrounded by piles of their pukapuka - perfectly sized and delectable treats covered in glossy red.","_key":"051f28cce7714","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"bb4407a82f33"},{"markDefs":[{"href":"https://badapple.gay/","_key":"1b49891d947e","_type":"link"}],"children":[{"text":"Spoiled Fruit","_key":"7f469b3441640","_type":"span","marks":["em"]},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" is an anthology including 20 Queer writers across Aotearoa. The first section of the collection includes works first published on ","_key":"7f469b3441641"},{"_type":"span","marks":["1b49891d947e"],"text":"bad apple","_key":"e348418bd186"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":", a volunteer-run online literary journal focused on writing from LGBTQ+ and takatāpui writers. Poets were prompted to reflect on their works to create new pieces for the second section ‘Spoiled Fruit’ - bringing forth themes of growth, evolution, change and transition through the rot.","_key":"763d02f4cb01"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"223b7507676b"}],"_key":"7a56c0167120"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"‘Spoiled Fruit’ - bringing forth themes of growth, evolution, change and transition through the rot.","_key":"6acd44afbb49"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"9b60eea7b993"}],"_key":"863f74e917c7"},{"_type":"articleText","description":[{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"It was a night I’d remember. Not just because I had embarrassed myself and dropped a 1L bottle of apple juice all over my pants before the show. But because the voices of the poets who’d performed at Samoa House Library would continue to haunt me as I read through the anthology.","_key":"38d25b7cb00e0"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"fc49982ab011"},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"marks":[],"text":"Like Ivy Lyden-Hancy - whose poems on eating fish in biblical proportions were witty, charming and damming. Jo Bragg’s ‘Heaven is a Blue Room,’ holds imagery that reveals new depths with each listen. Spoken word poet Ngaio Simmons’s performance of “Whati,’ - reverberates around the walls and fills the library with the resilience of being wāhine maōri. Amy Marguerite performs ‘action potential,’ in a way that honours the rhythm and spacing with sighs and pauses to create delight! While El Spurlock – whose poem ‘OTHER BOYS ARE BORING AND YOU ARE A BURNING HOUSE I WANT TO LIVE IN’ – starts with taking the wrong exit at Greenlane roundabout and devastates us in just ten lines. Oh, and Laura Vincent, who I’m likely to become a rabid fangirl of and get ‘how many chewable vitamin Cs can I eat before I forget the taste of real fruit?’ tattooed on one tit, and ‘EVER GIVEN 2021’ on the other. And kī anthony! Their poetry is the first in the anthology, and sets the scene with ‘we saw carly rae jepsen in concert when concerts existed and dedicated side b didn’t exist yet’ — capturing the yearning, romance, and collapsing in melodrama while living in a mouldy, fuzzy, mozzie filled whare in West Auckland.","_key":"5f2d8c17b1240","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"7c86446e524e"},{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"2e635595cab5","markDefs":[{"href":"https://www.verbwellington.nz/festival-events-2023/bad-apple","_key":"2c8914333370","_type":"link"}],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"\nThis is all to say - ","_key":"3b6c523df7e6"},{"_type":"span","marks":["2c8914333370"],"text":"Spoiled Fruit’s grand launch ","_key":"00bbb766ced2"},{"_key":"ec7efeabe7c6","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"at Verb Festival on the 9th of November will be filled with an equally impressive line-up of performing poets. 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It was conceptualised towards the end of 2022. I impulsively applied for some funding from the Copyright Licensing New Zealand contestable fund and was lucky enough to get $7,000 to kick it off. It's great to finally have a physical book to show people."}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"},{"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":["strong"],"text":"How has it been having boxes of the pukapuka at your flat, holding it in your hands… and smelling it?","_key":"cc350e4dd23d0"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"d41735db14e9","markDefs":[]},{"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"To be honest, I'm a little bit over it. [laughs] Look, I've had it on my computer and I've been working on it for a year!","_key":"a418dcb77fba0"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"50a6174baedd","markDefs":[]},{"markDefs":[],"children":[{"_key":"51d4d279c2250","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"But to have the physical thing is really cool! I haven't really looked inside it very well yet. 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It’s tricky.","_key":"0259fd6828a60","_type":"span","marks":[]}]},{"_key":"80f8c2b3471b","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"These big overseas overlords see NZ’s publishing industry as a tiny speck on the far horizon, but it's everything to us. These are the stories of Aotearoa, and of who we are.","_key":"3a1251014ec70"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"},{"_key":"cde20ee0fa2b","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"But if we only get one or two books a year from a major publisher by minority groups, then we're not present in the conversation. 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So I was thinking, how can I do that? I've got these skills and I really love books.","_key":"cbf190abe050"}]},{"_key":"24feea44a782","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_key":"06c381155b98","_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"That's when I discovered the Whitireia publishing diploma. And I had just finished reading Rebecca K Riley's Greta & Valdin, which is one of my favourite books! And I was like, hell yeah! This is a queer wāhine Māori telling stories about queer Māori people, I want to be involved in this! I want to be doing this! And so that kind of one thing led to another and here I am."}],"_type":"block","style":"normal"}],"_key":"78d7692ed652"},{"_type":"articleShortquote","description":[{"style":"normal","_key":"38005a48f699","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"You’re not often reading a poetry book from cover to cover, right? 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I am quite a literal writer and literal-minded, so I’m not sure how to approach the poetic form when ideas are a little more abstract. Amber has been really a great person to collaborate with because she just gets it. She pulls the best out from the work.","_key":"354ce1f52dce0","_type":"span"}],"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"27ebdf520eaf"},{"_type":"block","style":"normal","_key":"f888d2d63662","markDefs":[],"children":[{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":"You’re not often reading a poetry book from cover to cover, right? But with how ","_key":"116abad680160"},{"_type":"span","marks":["em"],"text":"Spoiled Fruit","_key":"116abad680161"},{"_type":"span","marks":[],"text":" is structured, it makes you want to — that's all Amber’s narrative thread. 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