Take the world in a love embrace, fire all of your guns at once, and explode into space (Steppenwolf)

April 21 1984 L-R Margo, Chris, Clay

Wie geht's?

While discussing Diana Wichtel in the previous post, I mentioned Margo Buchanan-Oliver and how she deserves a post.

Margo was an exceptional person, and a huge influence on me as a person. Exceptional, as in extraordinary, unequalled.

When I look around our house I see reminders of her (and her partner Clay)  and indications of her influence on our aesthetics are everywhere; including pictures, vases, books, furniture. Even our lack of clutter aesthetic. My memories are chock a block with Margo moments.

I can trace many things back to Margo. I owe her a lot and I can never repay her.

Margo took her own life five years ago, on the 25th of April 2018.

I met her at a crucial, impressionable, time.

In 1979, my friends at Auckland University, who included buddies from school and the rec centre crew, all left at the end of their degrees, and while I stayed in touch as best I could, they were no longer day to day contacts as I started my Masters' degree in English.

So, in 1980, my friendship group expanded. I can't quite remember how I found Margo or how she found me. We must have crossed paths in a lecture or a tutorial. Maybe it was mutual friend Chris Loud who introduced us? 

I was doing my first year of my MA and my choice of courses was quite schizophrenic, being split between interests in 15th century drama, Chaucer, Shakespeare and 20th century poetry, drama and novels.

I do know that I quickly became close friends with her and her partner Clay Bodvin. 

Margo is, was, a fiercely brilliant, perceptive, intellectually curious, imposing genius, but she also had a huge heart. She cared deeply about her family and her friends. She was all class. 

She adopted me and I was extremely happy to be considered worthy of her time. She also cut through bullshit like nobody I've ever seen before or since.

Anyway, they were living in Blockhouse Bay and I was still at home in Mt Roskill South, so it wasn't a big deal to get in the mini and head over and hang out for discussions, meals, record sessions (I was also a huge fan of both rock music and medieval music - another bonding point).

After finishing our MAs I headed to New Plymouth and met Jacky (love at first sight on my part), while Margo continued with her PhD studies. 

We remained in touch from then on throughout the eighties: Margo was  MC at our wedding, Clay was my best man; they are Godparents to Keegan. From the nineties onwards it was a case of intermittent contact as either they or we moved around NZ and the world for various reasons.

Throughout all the years, her letters or cards would reach us wherever we were (she always began them with 'Wie geht's?' How are you?), or else we would make a point of visiting them at Huia Road or the university, where she was a leading light in the business faculty.

Yes, I miss her, as I really really miss all those who have passed from my life, but the continual reminders of her help and advice and her piercing questioning about my purpose in life will never fade.

Thank you Margo.

Warren