Zooming House

You take photos of me in the Escher and Nendo exhibition at The NGV.   You take  the photos of me crawling in as far as I can go into an installation designed by Oki Sato entitled Zooming House (2018).  Should you leave me it would be all the photos you took of me that would haunt…

The body keeps score.

I am chatting around a table in a backyard in rural South Australia. It is a sunny hot afternoon and I am with my sister and some of her friends. We are a group of young women sharing secrets and they mostly involve men and how we should best exist in this world alongside their…

Wednesday Writing

The last two nights I have slept through till morning. No waking up at two am gasping for breath in a panic. no anxiety stomach cramps. Unfortunately my rare deep sleep on Tuesday morning meant I didn’t stir when my partner thought he had locked himself out on his way to work without his car…

the protein responsible for growing fingers in-utero is called Sonic Hedgehog

The party takes place at my friend and his partner’s apartment that overlooks Swanston St in the city. He has borrowed a fancy overhead projector from his work and set it up in the small living room. As guests arrived he had the old film Nosferatu playing on the projector screen with no sound. Grimes…

Swinging And Swirling

MONDAY I get a rejection email from a writing competition that I entered 4 months ago. I really hoped to make the long list. My phone has not been working for three days. I cannot type in my security code as all but the 2 and 5 are useless. It is nice to leave the…

Two Years come Sunday

Sunday was the two year anniversary of my kidney transplant.  It seemed an even more exciting reason to celebrate than the usual another year older reason. You turned another year older? Thats cool. I have three kidneys inside this tiny skin house, and the one that works is from a man who helped create  me…

Someday My Prince Will Not Come: My Feminism in its infancy

It was my mother who planted the feminist seed within my intellect.  I am not even sure if she remembers doing it. She was a busy lady. These days when she says she is not a feminist, I huff and puff and roll my eyes as if no time has past at all and I…

When Not Writing A Book #2

The 109 tram has a man on it that smells unpleasant. He is wearing dirty jeans and sneakers. He has bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath them. He is standing at the front and not standing still. ”I need to get to the corner of smith st.” He says to nobody in particular. I am…