22 January 2018: An evening with the Women Writing Lab Berlin takes the focus of the evening on how we perceive the ‘other’. How do we acknowledge the impact of our fellow humans around us, when we do not often see or define their influence on our daily life. We pass through our days, in… Read More Who are the people?
Finding a way to be both human and woman. I’m starting the year 2018 thinking about what it is to be a human in this world. I’d like to say I’ve not yet found peace with the fact I am a woman, but that’s not true. The truth is I’ve not found peace with the… Read More Human first.
Sometimes it helps when I isolate feelings in my mind, make them a little persona, dress them up in mental dolls clothes and listen to their animations with one eyebrow raised. That wary adult amusement one observes a tired giggling child, waiting for the giggles to turn to tears. Today I dressed my mental-wailing in… Read More Writing the Wave
Moon under water, reflections shimmer Celestial things lie beneath the surface. The water in my blood an open sea, shifting in the breeze, shimmers like moonlight on ocean shores, Are you underwater moon? As you creep along the horizon, are you drowning or submerging into the depths of the underworld as my brilliant feminine essence… Read More Moon Under Water (poem)
on space and being seen Kaleidoscope. It’s one of my favourite words. It’s been used to describe me three times now as an introduction, at one of my favourite poetry events when the host calls “Give me three words that start with K!”. My life, too, feels not unlike a kaleidoscope. All these little coloured… Read More Kaleidoscopes and Bicyles
Willy-willy: noun, plural willy-willies. Australian. 1. a severe tropical cyclone. Free write. Sad. Gee, I wish it was bloody tropical right now. Lucky I ordered a hot water bottle on Amazon today. Why the hell couldn’t I just find one in a shop easily? I miss home. Tangential thoughts. Racing. I know brain, let’s play a game. Start the sentence… Read More A Willy-willy of Associative Writing
Witness the unfolding of petals, stay long enough to see me through more seasons than you packed clothes for it is not uncommon to watch trees bloom and cry their petals in tearful joy of simply being alive or split bark with growing pains before feeling nourished and trusting enough to bear fruit