Atarangi Anderson

This Matariki my whānau couldn’t all gather together in one place, so instead I made everyone a little manu aute.
Each manu has a small piece of aute tied to its tail with space to write the names of loved ones who have passed.

One of the beautiful ceremonies of Matariki was the flying of manu aute. We would tie little shells and feathers to them and remember those who had passed throughout the year.

It makes me wonder whether aute may also have been used in this way as part of our deathing ceremonies. When I imagine those great manu soaring through the sky with their bird-like bodies and human aute faces, I think about aute as a gift from Hina a material we use to help navigate Te Ao Wairua. From birth to death. 🤍

This week my friends and I are gathering for a little dinner to make our own manu, creating taonga for our whare that honour the people we love and our tīpuna.

These little manu aren’t the great ceremonial manu with bird-like bodies and human faces. They’re small and shaped like pātiki. For me, pātiki speaks of abundance, but also of the spaces between Te Ao Mārama and Te Ao Wairua. These manu aren’t made to fly, but to hang quietly in your home as a reminder of the people you carry with you.

If you’d like one for your own Matariki, I’ve also put a free manu aute template in my bio so you can make your own with whatever fibre paper you have. I think they’d be beautiful made with harakeke paper, or with kōzo washi—a traditional Japanese paper often made from the fibres of the paper mulberry tree, the same plant as aute.
It’s been a big season of transition for me, and a season of remembering. Matariki has felt a little like an express train of emotions.

My hope is that this year we can remember aute and the roll she plays in navigating Te Ao
Wairua.

Ngā mihi nui for all of your support this year. 🤍

Arohanui,
Atarangi