— the dusk light, the cloud pattern, recorded always in your heart and the rest of the world — chaos circling your winter boat. – from ‘Last Ink’, Michael Ondaatje The hot days are starting to roll across Melbourne, stretching out, settling in. The trees lining our street are heavy with new green leaves, the […]
Spoon of everyone. Spoon of the belly. Spoon of the empty belly. Spoon of the full one. Spoon of no one hungry. Spoon for everyone. — from ‘Spoon Ode’ by Sharon Olds I’m writing this sitting at our wooden kitchen table, early on a Friday afternoon. The big window above the bench is overlooking a grey […]
come on sweetheart let’s adore one another before there is no more of you and me — from Fountain of Fire, Rumi It’s Monday evening as I write this, cool enough for the first time this year to be wearing socks and a jumper. The kids are asleep, their soft breathing barely audible from the next […]
If you’re not interested in a quick side of politics with your panzanella, scroll down now. If you are, though, let’s take just the briefest of moments to celebrate the solidarity, where around the world millions of women stood up against racism and hate-mongering, stood up for the rights of the marginalised. Critique and reservations […]
It is necessary to pick 150,000 crocuses in order to produce one kilogram of saffron. Soon, she’ll crouch again above each crocus, feel how the scales set by fate, by misfortune are an awesome tonnage: a weight opposing… – from ‘The Saffron Picker’ by Judith Beveridge For a traveller to India, there is wealth of […]
My desk is a small, white, wooden number with a set of drawers on the left. The desktop is chipped and nicked, scarred and smudgy. I’ve had it for over seven years now. It’s seen me through all sorts of houses and various endeavours – planning festivals, uni essays, story writing, starting this here blog. […]
Since she was born, W has spent some time almost every day hanging in the kitchen with me while I cook. When she was a tiny bub she would be in the sling carrier, or lying on her rug on the floor. Since about the age of six months, she would either sit in her […]
I spent Monday driving out to Boonah (or being driven out, as it were). Boonah is about an hour south of Brisbane. An easy drive, we left under heavy grey clouds and drove through until the skies were clear blue, studded with long cotton-wool wisps of white. The country is dry at the moment, shades […]
“I gut fruit with my mouth push tongue into black belly of papaya peel lychee with teeth bite into ripe pear suck on stone of mango all of this, over the kitchen sink barefoot middle of winter…” From ‘at the thought of you’ by Warsan Shire I love this poem – it is so visceral, […]
