The week that was …

Last weekend saw me help shepherd my sister out of the shadows of a broken marriage and into freedom. Freedom from years and seasons of pain and sacrifice, and freedom born out of an indelible cost to her humanity and identity as a woman. A big group of people who love her ferried her out of … Continue reading The week that was …

Topography

She sits by the windowsill - window seat holding her shearing form. Fingers of sunlight splay across her back and she smells tuberose on the morning air as her body is swallowed by the full throat of summer.   Shifting her form to a gentle lean, she spies a framework of desire where the language of hummingbirds between … Continue reading Topography

Learning to Die: my TEDx talk

Yesterday my TEDx talk went live on TEDx Brisbane's YouTube channel, and I've had an almost overwhelming response about speaking about my life (and deaths), and my beliefs and truths about death and dying. Here it is - Learning to Die. I've been bathing in the beautiful waters of Death Walking training over the last two days, the last … Continue reading Learning to Die: my TEDx talk

Regime #4 gets a smashing review (as does my poem)

I am, at my very core, a poet. Along with memoir, it was the first form of writing I chanced upon as a child. I wrote my first memoir when I was six - cute and heart-heavingly sad. I still have it - or at least my Mum does. HB on foolscap. Illustrated. But this post … Continue reading Regime #4 gets a smashing review (as does my poem)

Ineka

I have posted this before, but because it's 26 years today since my beautiful friend Ineka died, I thought I'd do a re-post. She deserves it. I was 10 when Ineka died and my life changed forever. There's so much to write about Ineka, but here's just one story. * I have always been captivated … Continue reading Ineka

Another angel at my table

I am, right now, stuck in that stinking, mephitic mire that is grief. It is as though I am cemented to the one place. Just about everything hurts, and just about everything makes me cry. Some photographs arrived in my inbox around lunchtime, and that mallet of sorrow swung a blow so hard that I lost … Continue reading Another angel at my table