Thinking Allowed

I thought it would be easy to find out the definition of "threshold", but it turns out that not even Google really knows, writes Liz Breslin.

A writer’s life. It’s not all ivory towers or garrets with gloves.

When you’re tired, go to the beach. When you’re happy, when you’re bereft. When you’re hopeful. Go by car, go by bike, get a bus, go on foot, writes Liz Breslin.

Six things Liz Breslin loves about Wanaka's Festival of Colour.

Someone made a week for me last week. Well, it was more like some LOTS - the organisers, volunteers, actors, directors, costumers... everyone who came together to make Dunedin Fringe Festival, writes Liz Breslin.

"They called you ‘Famous Hawea Writer Liz Breslin’," said my girlfriend. Who did? Am I? After I got off the phone I got under the duvet and stayed there a while.

It’s been another week where people I love have lost people they love and are feeling lost themselves, writes Liz Breslin.

My screen time is up 46%. I have divested myself of Facebook, cancelled my ongoing TradeMe favourite searches and turned off my notifications. And yet, my screen time is up 46%, writes Liz Breslin.

There’s a stretch of road leaving Wanaka where if you look to the left you see small square boxes floating on the lake, and to the right you see THIS IS A WORK SAFE WORK SITE FOR SALE, writes Liz Breslin.

I’ve started my column at least five times this week, writes Liz Breslin.

It’s time to face up to it. Face the facts. The fact is there are too many headshots by far in the world, writes Liz Breslin.

Sometimes I’m not sure what my favourite season is because finishing a swim in the lake is like being born, rainbow leaves on the track are a joy, snow is a miracle and lambs are cute, but this year I’m really clear, writes Liz Breslin.

Fun fact, or not so fun, depending on which side of the destruction you’re on, writes columnist Liz Breslin.

A lockdown habit I’ve kept, as I walk along the lake track each day, is to take a camera snap of the expanse of beach and send it to extraordinary friends in exotic places - Luggate, Wellington, Melbourne, writes Liz Breslin.