this piece appeared in The Melbourne Anglican October 2019 During the summer, in a burst of new-year planning enthusiasm, I asked a well-organised friend to help me with some weekly scheduling. I wanted to set up a pattern for the tasks that went into each day. Despite my friend’s expertise and willingness, the process did …
When this composed, silver-haired woman tells us that for the last three days they’ve been protesting with Extinction Rebellion in Melbourne, our eyebrows lift.
In the Sunday Age essay today, do check out the links as well! When the news broke of the latest push by the Federal Government to drug test people on Newstart, a neighbour sent me a link to comedian Sammy J posing as a Canberra-based urine-collector––“taking the piss”. It was great for a laugh but …
At a gathering recently I heard a rendition of Paul Kelly’s song “Meet Me In The Middle Of The Air”.
Mark’s poetry and lyrical prose return to mind so often. I am grateful for the long conversations we have had that formed this interview published by Dumbo Feather I first met Mark Tredinnick’s work through The Little Red Writing Book––recommended by a teacher I loved. Within the opening pages I was hooked. I read the …
essay published in The Sunday Age Jean is 90. She is widowed and lives alone in an outer suburb of Melbourne. Her small brick house overlooks a terraced garden with a view of the Dandenongs. Jean used to be a florist and now she cooks, tends the garden and takes care of herself. Jean’s daughter …
https://crosslight.org.au/2019/08/23/wesley-trigg-not-just-a-boy-from-the-bush/published in Crosslight magazine Wesley Trigg and his wife Una are waiting in the foyer at Carnsworth Uniting Agewell in the Melbourne suburb of Kew. I recognise their signature neatness and punctuality. The retired minister and teacher are both in their nineties. We have previously been members of the same congregation. Amongst that casual throng …
Glad to see this story published this week in the Sunday Age faith column August 4, 2019 He is a man fully present to himself. In the botanical gardens he wears a neat close-brimmed hat and weaves through the crowd following a child. Deftly he catches her up, bringing her back into the gathering for the …
this story is in Eureka Street, religion section, photograph by Eva Rugel The first time Jack came to church he baptised himself. The font was new, the water inviting, and he dunked his 10-year-old head right in. The sea-blue glass font had recently been installed in the foyer on a sculpted piece of redgum. The …
