Junk to funk

One of my favorite yearly events on this little island is called ¨Junk to Funk¨. It’s purpose is to showcase how to re-use and recycle. Mostly it is a fashion show where children and adults exhibit outrageous creativity and panache.

Luckily for me, my eldest daughter is usually involved in one way or another, so I’ve never missed a show. The first year she made a dress out of pillow cases, this year she was dancing.

The message in the show is inspiring, the people take it seriously and it is always heaps and heaps of fun.

This dress is made from empty ‘Vogels’ bread wrappers.

The island also has an Upcycle store initiated by my friend Bea. When she discovered the waste from the textile industry, she committed to change the way we see old clothes, by upcyling them into modern creations.  The show last night sparkled with her creative flare.

Last year, we lost Zuva in the madness after the show, we found her on the cat walk. This year we let her go up after the show and she owned it walking up and down and twirling. So, I am challenging myself to create something for Zuva to wear in next years show. I am tired of being a spectator at this fabulous event, it’s time to join the fun!

An Amerikiwi

Last month I took a vow to the queen and became an official New Zealand Citizen.

This might be an unusual thing for an American to do, especially one who can trace her roots to the Mayflower, President Lincoln and Bob Hope.  Some call me a traitor.

Let me explain, as an American, a caucasian one, I am genetically a pioneer.  My ancestors hopped on boats to the new world, and on wagons to the west. My grandmother hopped a train to southern California and I hopped a plane to New Zealand.

Yes, I did go so far west that it left the borders of the United States.  The truth is, I was never really good at being american anyway.  I do not see the point in sports, I do not think bigger is better, and do not think dogs in clothes are cute.

My biggest failure at being american is my opinion on fireworks.  I tried to enjoy them, really I did.  When I was little they were really, really loud and when I grew up I learned how much they cost.  Since then, all I see at fireworks shows is money going up in smoke. (albeit in a very pretty way.) I find it odd, burning money to celebrate. A sing a long would be just as nice.

Now, I am not a very good Kiwi either, I do not know how to knit, fix a car or raise sheep (although I did help a little lamb the other day).  I do find New Zealand to be more tolerant of my flaws.   Independent thought is not ridiculed.  And this is good for me since I’ve always been a little different.

So, last month I sat with my two gorgeous, graceful teenagers, beaming with pride to gift them this, on  my own, the privilege of having two countries in which to call home.  They can now go anywhere on the planet and always return to the US or New Zealand .

All of this leads to my thoughts around the reality  that the world is getting smaller.  We are all global citizens, on this tiny earth together.

I look forward to a time when we can all  take part in THAT ceremony! (without  the fireworks, thank you. )