charissa hut

Charissa hut

Charissa Snijders, Registered Architect, charissa hut, draws on 30 years of experience to deliver regenerative architecture that expresses the self, others and the land. Charissa welcomes charissa hut who seek to make a difference in their own lives and in others, and in doing so change the way we live.

An arc made up of angles is mere endless dead injustice shambling Running from the truth and branding innocence with lies Fogs waver, quiver-quaver shrouding justice there in shadows While the monsters play the endless angles in the falling dark. Please consider our intersections, shared experiences, lived miles in light of this point of view and maybe, just maybe, the truth shall set you free. Shoot me, shoot me if you can for only then will I be still be still among the long green ferns and canted crooked in the grass. Softly blows the westling wind, blows lovely in this blessing night. And thus to love, and thus to mend, to love softly just like the wind loves everything it breathes upon.

Charissa hut

Listen up white cis-hetliberals…if you are ANY of these things at any intersection, I want to talk to you…. I am speaking in my intersection as a transwoman who suffers from things that share a great congruence with my BIPOC fellow humans. Google it to find its meaning and then come back to read further. One of the largest challenges as I do this work is dealing with blackberries…and THAT is where the nitty gets gritty. First of all, they are bushy, thick, tangled, and VERY formidable to deal with. But there are ways that are more effective and less effective. One could just spray them with poison…which makes them go away, along with poisoning everything…. Stay there, lopping off canes…again and again and again…and then rake them all up and take them to the bonfire and burn them. You pretty much have to start here because the vines and brambles are too thick, too strong, and block access to the real source of the problem: the roots. If you go for those first thing?

First, not only in the world, but for her practice as well.

The Treehouse rests lightly on a tongue of land on Waiheke Island. The intimate living wing cantilevers into and is sheltered by the native trees to the south and extends to the north with the Outdoor room framing the panoramic sea views. This is a place where one can listen to the rain, the wind in the trees, bird song and the stillness of the night. It is a place to remind oneself of the richness that can be experienced in the simplest things in life. The palette of materials reflects both this simplicity and richness. Juxtaposing warm timber and moments of stone, the Treehouse is a testament to the beauty and power of natural materials.

The owners question how the case has been handled since then. Charissa and Tony Foster, along with their son, were working that Saturday when a pickup gave their pizza shop an unwanted drive-through. The crash was not only destructive, it could have been deadly. A customer sitting inside left just eight minutes before the pickup crashed through the wall. The pickup drove off a nearby roundabout and smashed into a shop across the parking lot. Then the driver backed up and crashed all the way into the pizza shop dining room. The stunned owners waited for what was next when the pickup drives out. The driver stops and a rescue unit is called, but he is not taken to the hospital. Charissa wonders why not at least for a blood test.

Charissa hut

I think this is among the handful of poems that I really feel good about, from the point of view of technical craft…I think I really hit the sweet spot and was risen above a mere hack or journeyman kind of poetess…. I wrote this, pretty much the first true poem I wrote after a seminal crushing happened to me and I was worried that my creative fonts had been polluted forever…thank God this worry was unfounded, as this beautiful little creature shows. We walked each day steady across those shores ever reaching to the sea and the sea ever running back to sands and sunset ever blessing everyday each moment with its many colored kiss in hues of pinks and purples, oranges, yellows, hues of bliss in reds and blues, and greys… you… always grey lining blue of mine with you, in silver shot straight thru with grey shot thru my blue. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam.

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So I wanna give a lil glimpse to how I weave poems into poems…this is Sands and Shadows and Pearls , but taken apart into its strands…you can read each strand, and then go back and look at how I juxtapose to create Poetic Harmonics…this should create some depth and distance in the metaphors and implications of waking, dreaming, shadow, sun and what casts the shadow. He was cunning, unctuous, viscous and smooth of speech like a cobra hypnotizing its prey…but the Wise Men were, well, wise to him…and they held him at bay with deference and deflection…and journeyed on after giving him the impression that they would indeed abide by his word when in his land…. When after all It was you and me. You all have missed me in the midst of your judgement. We went up there one day to do some work in our structure, which was framed and roofed and wired and plumbed, but lacked sheetrock or siding and finish work trimming…and when we got there, we were shocked to discover that the entire area around us had been developed and had structures on it of various states of completion…all told, the area had around 30 houses, where there had just been ours and a lot of wild land. I guess the guests are still around the table, I think the gusty crowd is still sitting in the dark and staring eyes shut. I take treasure from my heart pleasures, pains, my every dart burn them for a brand new start the incense of my spirit …. Well hello there Supporter of ttaf! You can rejoice that you managed to raise a child that learned this lesson…. I have been cogitating on this for several weeks now and I am ready to unreel it. Please consider our intersections, shared experiences, lived miles in light of this point of view and maybe, just maybe, the truth shall set you free. I was so fractured…so young…and so deeply in the grip of dysphoria and dissociation which was the hidden reef under everything in my life.

We are known for our creative toasted subs which include chicken and turkey, veggie options and plenty of delicious meat options. All salads are made fresh to order and include any of our sub ingredients along with specialty and house dressings. Ask us how to turn your fav sub into a salad!

I, who am healed in words healed in ripping away the opaque screens of untruth, I have been broken and I cannot say if I shall ever be clean again ever be whole again or fit for any service. Many allies rebuke performative allyship and call out those who are performing it…but I do not. First, not only in the world, but for her practice as well. Sometimes there are thorns still that prick you and hurt…and yet you keep digging… Eventually, the reward is a patch that is LARGELY free of blackberry vines…there are always remnants that need to be worked on though. I now take a name for myself, and by this shall ever I be known to you if you attempt a return there IS a path, it is the paths of the dead which you can walk : Furia Share this: Twitter Facebook Email Print. LOL, thinking of you, Litter Mate!! Yet…all who partake of her sup can find their certain path to drink of living waters springing up and resonating in the ink. I wanted to talk about gaps, about distances… those that exist on a vast continuum of connection, and yet no matter how close you get, you never really can connect…. They leave marks, tears. As to repentance of any kind? There is not a chance. Ashes drift lazily, footprints of wandering ghosts free at last from their entombment, in limbs of wood and sap, and finally I see ashes are ghostly release, are seeds, promises of Phoenix, gathering, bunching, heaving and inevitable. Why is this gem getting so little attention?

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