Helen Gaudin Biography
As a child, I remember sitting in the back yard with a lined A4 School Exercise book and pencil and telling my father I was going to be a writer when I grew up as I frantically scribbled down ideas that danced in my head. I remembered the all the stories I read and retold them to my younger sisters. Over the years I drifted away and then back to putting my thoughts into words. The dance between my imagination and the actual process of writing wax and waned as the demands of daily life pulled me in different directions. Over the last few years I have once again returned to laying down into the light the words that dance in my head.
Silence makes the loudest sound
It presses heavily on my eardrum
Inside and out
A soundless barrier echoes
...
Scintillation dancing
On the edge of vision
Brilliantine curling
Swirling in twisting motion
...
Outside the busy world clatters, chatters and rattles on
Sounds of vehicles rushing by
The constant electronic hum, just below hearing, felt in the bone
The minutiae of other lives seeping into you through waves of sound
...
In the garden
The winds chime frantically dances
As the haupitonga blusters through
A south easterly wind
...
From the sou- west Tonga-ma-uru danced in
Bringing the sea's coolth in his train
Curling around me like a friendly cat
He wound his way into my aura
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7/27/2025 8:29:53 AM # 1.0.0
