For nine months of my life I walked this tunnel twice a day and sometimes I wrote down the snippets of conversation as a kind of random urban poem. I decided to do it tonight for old time’s sake. And something unexpected happened at the end. Two male office workers, in Friday casual: ‘Yeah yeah […]
After community breakfast yesterday I visited the home of a friend, clambered over belongings 60cm deep and took in his joy at his painting on the wall. Earlier he had arrived late for breakfast but we unpacked again so we could chat while he munched on a large bowl of cereal. We prayed for his […]
Anzac Day 2004, 9.15pm. I am sitting on the side of the bed in our house in Calwell contemplating getting an early night. The phone next to me rings. I pick it up and say hello, and hear my father’s voice. My memory now shifts to a view of myself sitting hunched over, head in my hands, […]
Some days sights stand out like an artwork or cherished memory. They weave together like poetry and I wonder if this is the result of sunshine, a good night’s sleep or a trick of the eye. Walking past the sandstone of St Andrew’s Cathedral, a man looking like a troubled disciple urinates against the wall, […]
“When you think about it, I was holding something together that was time to let go.” So began some spontaneous writing in the middle of one of many nights when I’ve sat up awake, considering the unfolding of some difficult times. “It’s hard for me to admit that I’m better off letting it go completely. […]
“Time’s a goon” says ageing rocker Bosco in Pulitzer prize-winning A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan and I gain some insight into the title and I realise that this book and A Sense of an Ending that won the Booker prize this year both tell stories about the passing of time and […]
