Travel opens us up to new places and experiences, assuming our hearts and minds are open, too. But travel’s transformative potential is not without challenges, and our recent Alaska cruise is no exception.
Travel opens us up to new places and experiences, assuming our hearts and minds are open, too. But travel’s transformative potential is not without challenges, and our recent Alaska cruise is no exception.
In a world overflowing with book recommendations, reading lists, and how-to guides, it’s easy to get caught up in the… Read more Have We Got Reading Wrong?
When I moved to Australia in the ‘80s, the sound of g’day was music to my ears. In New York, where I grew up, you quickly learn to avoid eye contact with strangers. You walk with a purpose, gaze fixed in the distance. Otherwise, you’re likely to become entangled in an unwanted, potentially dangerous encounter. (Don’t get me started on the subway!) But in ‘80s Australia, people were greeting me in stereo. I was naïve enough to think they must have picked me for a foreigner and were going out of the way to be nice. I soon realised it wasn’t special treatment at all. Everyone said ‘g’day. Not anymore.
There have been plenty of writing goals and achievements over the past year, but although welcome, they’re not a priority and arguably not overly interesting. I suppose that’s another lesson. My self-identity has always been tied up with my work, and in recent years with my writing, but 2024 has taught me that balance and personal growth, at least its promise, is what motivates me.
All my life, I’ve been trying to work out who I am. Perhaps not surprisingly, I had my first existential crisis at age eight (or thereabouts) at my grandmother’s house in Boston. I don’t remember what precipitated it – a dream, perhaps – but I do recall bolting upright in bed, wondering why I was put on this earth, what the hell I was going to do with my life and how I would know which path was the right one.
If one more person tells me they’re not creative, I’m going to douse them with my acrylics – the quick drying ones that only come off with scrubbing and a bit of alcohol. 🎨
Contentment is more about what’s within. It’s about finding joy in the simple things, like feeling the sun on your face, or being followed by a rainbow. Getting lost in a pile of autumn leaves or laughing so hard hurts. It’s about being satisfied with what you have, rather than always striving for more. Contentment is like a cosy jumper – the colourful one your gran knitted for Christmas. It may not be the most fashionable thing in the world, but it’s comfortable, and it makes you feel good.
The Fragments web series was launched on 23 February at the National Film and Sound Archives in Canberra by the ACT Arts… Read more Fragments Web Series Premiere
I’ve been doodling a lot lately. Not in a gaze-off-into-the-distance kind of way but as an activity with intrinsic merit and no aim or outcome – a novelty in my task/deadline-oriented world.
Lately, people have been asking me where I get my characters from. I chuckle to myself when greeted with this question; semantics aside, the word ‘get’ conjures images of me plucking characters from shelves when out doing errands, perhaps wedging the unruly ones in my hand basket so I can admonish them under the pretence of a phone call.