Vishmi Helaratne | February 2024
" Karaka was a robust salad of technicoloured pleats and shoots that grew harmoniously together. Grounded in this gorgeous gardenia around 5 pm, I would skip bare on the lawn, hard boiling my head before dawn hit. I’d gush the water from the hose on my shoulders when my browns tinted to my pruney purples. Sizzling away"
"I adored the lawn the most because the vast shades of yellow and green grew heavy healing properties. The delightful pleasure of sinking one’s toes into the grass wasn’t new, though it was a gentle reminder of how disconnected and bruised my body felt. I was physically and mentally healing daily with the land and its animals, which glowed and gossiped with me every night. The skyspace was wide above, and a ripe sunset was always guaranteed on the hot horizon line, even when I was feeling blue. I loved being in Karaka, slowly proofing it all."
