I remember: The sharp stink of campfires and the tang of eucalyptus and pine. The crunch of shoes on gravel in the dark. Rain on a canvas roof. The sound of nearby water, and the way it changed the feel of the air. I was taller than the boys, mostly. Taller, heavier, thighs and hips… Continue reading Late night
When I was eight, my father took me (just me) on a four-wheel-driving trip with his cousins and their friends. Kathleen, my third cousin, and I sat in the back of one dusty, muddy Landcruiser after another as we drove along, used to the bumps and the crackle of the CB radios, colouring in our… Continue reading How does your garden grow?
Ann Blainey has recently published a new biography about Dame Nellie Melba, and today I spent my morning in the West Tower Suite on the 35th floor of the Sofitel listening to her speak about her research process, with salmon sandwiches and coffee courtesy of the Victorian Opera and my sweetest grin reserved for their… Continue reading Big Black Monsoon