Gulf country

It?s May 14. Our lantern has run out of batteries, so I?m writing this in the amenities shelter in the campground at Boodjamulla (Lawn Hill) National Park. I?m writing on lined paper in a fine blue pen and I have to stop every couple of words to brush the moths off the page and pick… Continue reading Gulf country

100 days and the Queen of Whatever

Leaving Melbourne felt like wading through molasses, sticky and slow-going, a series of blunders and clumsy patch-up jobs. Like a half-drunken stumble down the hallway in the middle of the night: hit your shoulder on the doorframe, slide into the dresser, trip over your own feet, claw at the wall to stay upright. Much of… Continue reading 100 days and the Queen of Whatever

Rainsong

These feelings come, like inspiration, through the cracks in the quiet of night-time, like spiders that bite when you?re asleep. When I see them trying to stick their spindly legs under the skirting board I stamp my feet and slap my knees and play music to help distract me, as if distraction is all it… Continue reading Rainsong