Where did it all start for me as an artist – here. This beautiful place in my painting was my childhood bath. My dad who had prior marriages and children had so much child support to pay that there was little money left for his last family, my brothers and me. We had no bath in the house I grew up in. Couldn’t afford one. Didn’t want one. I wanted to be in this place. Aways.

I grew up in the New Zealand countryside in a tiny town called Whakatiwai - poor - but only in terms of money. This bath was far more beautiful than anything the worlds top architects or designers could have created, far more stunning than anything money could buy. More alive than anything human-made.

For me it all began in Kaitiakitanga – in a living relationship with the Taiao, the natural world.  I felt the seamless layers of connection in everything around me – the rivers, ocean, mountains, forests, birds, animals, even the stars. We were not separate. We were all whanau (family).

I felt it as a child. Everything felt like a part of me. The need to protect it came naturally. No-one had to teach me Kaitiakitanga. It was natural. Like inside there was this moral compass directing me from a very early age. I felt so fiercely protective of the environment I loved.

This creek flowed into the ocean I could see from my bedroom. We lived on top of a hill. The 360 deegree views were magnificent. We watched twisters roll over the ocean as thunder and lightning raged all around us. My mother was a storm watcher passionately in love with the forces, the tempestuous moods of nature.

I felt the cooling waters of this beautiful creek flowing over my skin every day, the warmth of the sun as I lay on the rocks, the abundance that the land gave. I never felt alone. I always felt connected. Still do. My mind and body are extraordinarily sensitive to the whenua – the land I’m standing on – no matter which country of the world I’m in. This sensitivity and connection are always there. It’s like the environment flows in and out of me. Wraps its arms around me. I feel its love.

I had amazing parents. We always had wholesome food, clothes, and lots of pets. On hot days after school, I’d rush to this creek, sometimes jumping in fully clothed. Every morning at 7.30am after breakfast, I’d sprint 100 metres downhill to bathe, then return uphill to catch the school bus to Kaiaua Primary School. I repeated this routine every evening at 5.30pm before dinner and bed.

I loved this place. Where I grew up is now called Waharau Regional Park, home to beautiful creeks and forests, the Ngahere. It’s a place of magical beauty. I am so grateful my parents raised me there.

In the Maori language the word for land is whenua – the same word for placenta. This is not poetry this is reality. The land nourishes and sustains us the same way the placenta nourishes the foetus. Kaitiakitanga means guardianship. We are stewards, guardians of the whenua. The placenta, the land that nourishes us.

The principles of Kaitiakitanga resonate internationally with many indigenous cultures. I love the concept of seventh generation thinking of some Native American peoples, thinking of the 7 generations who came before you and the 7 generations who come after you before you act, and the concept of Sumak Kawsay the Andean philosophy which places respecting and caring for nature, as the key to a good life.

Our cultures see nature as alive, and us as part of a connected community with all life. When we recognize that nature provides fertile soil, clean water, rich plant and animal life, thriving forests, that these are the elements that make a good life, not material wealth, we understand sumak kawsay.

Kaitiaktanga is a moral compass. It’s not just about sustainability it’s about healing. All of us. We all need to take the principles of Kaitiakitanga to heart. We all need to be guardians of our whenua. For me this is where my art began.