The places I go …

Wooloweyah 28.6.16 It is akin to a dream, this dense clump of trees unfolding before me, reaching so sharply into the sky. As I walk through the forest under canopies of palms and eucalypts and a discord of screaming birds, my feet arrive at a bog. I'm at the lip of a lake I cannot reach for … Continue reading The places I go …

Purple cardigan

A story from my childhood has recently been featured on photographer and multidisciplinary artist Mindy Stricke's website for her 'Grief Landscapes' project. You can find it here. A little about 'Grief Landscapes' ... 'for the initial phase of Grief Landscapes, I’m documenting the unique terrain of people’s grief through photography and a collaborative process with the … Continue reading Purple cardigan

When you get punched in the face

A couple of years after my transplant, I was assaulted. Had the shit beaten out of me. What made it even more shameful, was that I was beaten up by a girl. Of course this rationale has evolved with the gradual unfurling of my life and hard won wisdom, so I know that it doesn't matter who … Continue reading When you get punched in the face

The bitter taste of defeat and failure

Always expect the unexpected. Be prepared like a girl scout without the rules (but with the cookies). That's always been one of my life's mottos. After taking my last ever dose of opiate antagonist therapy last Friday, I was relieved when I only had some minor restless limbs when I turned in for bed that evening. … Continue reading The bitter taste of defeat and failure

The power of choice

I made a life altering decision yesterday. I decided that I no longer need to rely on my opiate antagonist therapy. I had planned to stop on my birthday, which just happens to fall on New Year's Eve, but I've been feeling so happy and settled that I knew I could do it. And so I … Continue reading The power of choice

Trying to breathe when you are drowning

Ever had a newborn baby put into your arms and breathed them in? Like really breathed them in as though it were your last breath? I've been thinking of experiences that trump being high, and this is the most powerful that comes to mind. I have four nephews and was lucky enough to be present (and I … Continue reading Trying to breathe when you are drowning

Happy Birthday, M

For M.E.B We became another death (the fulfilment of my internship). Like a false syncope, my grief would not let me claim you. You came to me with bleeding gums and a dent in your jaw, your broken gait like a barber cutting through walls of plasticine with blunt scissors. Bruised pride; your face a field of … Continue reading Happy Birthday, M

The night I lived again: part three

There is beauty in the ordinary. Waking up, making coffee, washing my hair, going to the post office. All ordinary things made extra-ordinary because I am here to do them. I woke early to watch the moon sink and the sun rise. The east screamed tangerine and the sun pierced the thin veil of sky with … Continue reading The night I lived again: part three

The night I lived again: part two

By the time it was definite that the donor lungs were a match, there would have been at least thirty-five people at the hospital – all friends and family. Even a friend’s boyfriend (now husband) had driven down from uni at Gatton, so he could be there for both me, his now wife and my … Continue reading The night I lived again: part two

Autopsy of a marriage

Thrumming away from each other like broken mountains, by your second year, you had been excommunicated. Wrought by the passage of God, your clipped speech and ruddy cheeks made it hurt to be alive.   Her dowry – platelets swimming under skin and a fertile womb. Yours – a cellar of wine and an insistent mother whose teat you … Continue reading Autopsy of a marriage