I can't begin to describe all the roadblocks we come across as we walk our way down a road called Life. I can't begin to describe a thorough list of how to overcome these challenges but that doesn't mean there's no way. I can say I never had Batophobia - the fear of heights. When I was four I climbed onto the rooftop of our two storey house. What I have always been scared of however, is of being left behind. Funny this has all stemed from my earliest childhood memories. The reason for my unreasonable phobia is this: I was sound asleep. It was mid afternoon and as all children do, I took a soundless nap. Hours must have gone by however and I awoke to semi-darkness. There was no noise. I went out to look for my parents, and my sisters. There was no one. A cruel joke, I honestly believed at the time that my family was secretly playing Hide and Seek with me. I went outside and ran around the yard. It wasn't until I fell exhausted that I realised there was no game of Hide and Seek. Now I began to panic because I was certain I had left everything intact before I fell asleep. I also knew at a young age what was real and what wasn't. It wasn't until hours later that my family came home to find me balling me eyes out. They had just gone out for a while and didn't want to wake me from my slumber. Ever after that, I've never liked being alone. I have sought to surround myself with people, people and yet more people. It was my unconscious act to feel safe with other people around than to be alone. I was scared of being alone.

It's been a while since I've finally gotten rid of my phobia. And in fact, I'm quite liking the silence that comes with it sometimes. This was a challenge I had to overcome, it wasn't big or disastrous in any way at all. But it has taken a very long 12 years and I'm so glad for it because now I can do so much by myself. It has made me more sure of myself than ever before.

It would make sense if I had to learn about this local man during school hours. It would make sense if he was somehow part of our curriculum. It would make sense, but it doesn’t. Most people have a hero in their lives albeit it is their father or mother; or a role model perhaps an athlete, a celebrity, a cancer survivor all the more obvious.

Admiration is a key component to who you determine who you look up to. Someone you're not afraid to say succeeds or is better than yourself, because you think that even if it's not true and we're all just equal humans.

I could not tell you why I am so drawn to the biography of this mysterious homo sapien. Maybe it would be his artworks or maybe it would be his struggles to become accepted in society, to have his work ultimately accepted. If only he could have been a part of our TIG community. Maybe everything would have changed for him then.

Through an exhibit of New Zealand's artistic heritage when I was visiting our capital, I was ashamed and astonished to find out how many artist and artworks I could and could not recognise. But like most admirers, there must have been an unconscious censor or his distinctive touch that lead to me quickly recognize his work through the endless galleries.

He lived only to sixty eight years old and died twenty two years before me in 1987. I was seven years too late towards meeting him. But that doesn't stop my unexplained research and fascination of his life even if he has gone.

In a small area named Titirangi not far from where I live, resides his poor, pitiful house. He taught his loyal art students in a tiny attic where the easels were made from upright cardboard bozes with a stick for support. This was a man who was born with almost nothing but knew how to make the most of everything.

He wasn't a perfect man, nor a superhero in any respect, I'm not even sure he was an activist but I find myself in knowing about his life, has helped mine in ways I can not describe.


By now you must be wondering who this mystery man is. His name is Colin McCahon. He wasn’t an athlete or a celebrity but he was as much of a survivor of society as a survivor of cancer.


This is a recount on one of my many inspirational figures I have in my life. I have philosophers, scientists, artists and even modern day celebrities such as Hayden Penittiere on my list. But everyone knows about them.
No one knows about those who have insignificantly contributed to our history but has died and been left forgotten to, except the few who choose to reinact history and tell their stories again. Else their tales will be forgotten. And perhaps it won't even become a myth in time and space. I hope that's not to say that our story will be a blur as well when our time has come to pass. Let me ask you who your role models are? To be a role model to others is to gain their admiration and respect from all humane acts of kindness, generousity, empathy and last but not least - love.