poetry

this week

Blossom watch has started….

We’re at that time of year where the mornings are getting (slightly) lighter and we’re no longer under a cloak of darkness at 4:45pm; where you can see bright jonquils springing up in gardens and the beginnings of blossom on the trees. There’s still frost on the cars in the mornings, the air is still bitingly cold, and I can’t see myself wearing a dress without tights any time soon, but we have entered that stage in the season where everything is waking up, the wheel is turning and soon there will be barbecues, bare arms and beach swims after work again. I’m looking forward to summer. Winter has felt especially long this year, even after spending some of it in the UK. A weird feeling, but then it’s been a pretty weird year.

Favourite experience/s of the week

A book was sent to me to review and it must have been sent from the future because it was (mistakenly) addressed to “Dr Philippa Moore” which made me laugh but also filled me with utter delight. That’s still at least two and a half years away but nice to think it might have already happened in a parallel universe!

Browsing a bookstore looking for a gift for a friend while it poured with rain outside and acoustic Missy Higgins was playing on the stereo.

A walk at dusk with Tom where we encountered many friendly wallabies. Some fellow walkers also enjoying the area after dark mentioned that tawny frogmouths (a bit like owls) can be seen on occasion!

Hearing that a surprise I sent a friend in New Zealand made it there!

A lovely chat with my dear friend in London, seeing her sitting in her garden with the sun beating down, and finding it so bizarre that I was sitting in the exact same place just two months ago!

Solitude as I worked in my office at uni, which smells of old library books and chai. Two of my favourite smells.

Having dinner with my sister and my nephew, who is a sweet and caring young man who I am really enjoying getting to know better.

Things I was grateful for this week

A few clear sunny days in a row, in which to hang washing out and get it dry. Ah, the things you get excited about in your forties!

Encouragement, support and always useful feedback from my PhD supervisors, which led to a productive week.

The abundance of my tiny garden, even in winter, with chard, spinach and thick celery picked fresh for nearly every meal.

When the little stings come, being able to absorb the wisdom of other writers who have been there. And having a husband who also gives the best hugs.

A healthy body that can walk and run and take just about anything I throw at it. But, as Neil Young put it, “I’m gettin’ old” so eye tests have also been booked. On that note, I’m also grateful to live in a country with public healthcare where eye tests are still bulk-billed.

Also grateful to science and the caring medical professionals who gave Tom and I our second covid boosters today - our fourth jab in total. Vaxxed to the max!

A few poetry collections I’m savouring at the moment.

Reading

Poetry. Mountains of it. I can’t get enough. The picture shows a few of the collections I’m working my way through (most of them purchased from Foyles in London). I also have the collected works of Philip Larkin, Adrienne Rich and Judith Wright which I’ve been dipping in and out of. Online, my discoveries of the week were Felicity Plunkett’s “What the Sea Remembers” and Anne Sexton’s “Her Kind”. Nikki Gemmell once said that poetry is her tuning fork when she writes fiction, and it is mine too.

The Conversation: A Brief History of Curry in Australia by my colleague Dr Frieda Moran (curried wombat was once a thing, apparently!)

Lithub: The Childfree Effigy: On Network’s Diana and the Tropes that Betray Women. A brilliant essay on how the image of a childfree woman has been controlled in Hollywood over the past five or so decades. “Were it women directing 85 percent of Hollywood films today, how might that change the global perception of power, and even power itself?” So much yes in this article!

The Guardian: Greta Gerwig films - ranked! Greta is one of my favourite directors (if not my favourite….though Jane Campion has held top spot for a long time) and I enjoyed this ranking of all her films, that she’s directed, written or acted in. I disagree with Greenberg being number one though! Ladybird or Little Women should have grabbed that spot. Thoughts, fellow Greta fans?

Sydney Review of Books: Taking our Time - a very interesting essay about how academic work has both intensified and been increasingly devalued over the last few decades, and hence how time is measured in relation to academic workloads, as well as freedom to pursue research and thought without (too much) restraint or control, has changed. Lots of food for thought.

Listening to

After hearing an unfamiliar song of hers in the bookshop, I’ve been listening to everything Missy Higgins has recorded since 2012. Her latest EP Total Control is fabulous. “Watch Out” is my favourite track.

Michael Kiwanuka - so fantastic. I particularly love “Piano Joint (This Kind Of Love)” and the Claptone remix of “You Ain’t The Problem”. That’s been a particularly reassuring song for the last year or so!

Fable released a new album, Shame, last week and Tom is a huge fan! We listened to it on repeat over the weekend and I really loved it. Powerful, intense and haunting, but so listenable.

But my most incredible listening experience of the week is in the Watching section….

Thursday’s tofu fried rice - always a favourite!

Eating

The week’s eats were as follows:

Saturday: Pasta bake

Sunday: Minestrone soup with homemade bread

Monday: Sweet potato and lentil curry (made with my homemade Sri Lankan curry powder) and rice

Tuesday: Linda McCartney’s Deep Dish Pie with mash, green beans and peas, which I made for my sister and nephew who joined us for dinner. They brought a warm vegan brownie for dessert, which was also scrumptious! No leftovers, unsurprisingly.

Wednesday: Minestrone soup with homemade bread (leftovers from Sunday)

Thursday: Tofu fried rice (using leftover rice from Monday)

Tonight: who knows?! Probably pasta. Maybe sweet potato mac and cheese (which I now make a vegan version of - and it’s so good!)

There have also been a lot of winter smoothies for breakfast. A winter smoothie is, quite simply, a smoothie made with a mixture of fresh winter fruits and dried fruits. A typical one for me and Tom is:

one large apple/one large pear/one large orange + one frozen banana + two Medjool dates + frozen or fresh spinach + ground flaxseed/LSA + maca powder + tahini/peanut butter + cinnamon + almond milk + a hefty scoop of porridge oats. All blended together. It tastes amazing! And gets lots of fibre and good things into you.

Admittedly, it’s not the most warming breakfast on a two degree morning when there’s frost on the cars outside (!) but always delicious! Add a side of Vegemite toast and that’s our WFH breakfast most days. Smoothies were something I really missed when we were couch-surfing/housesitting/staying with my parents when we first moved back here. No one seemed to have a blender!

Next week we have a few long work days in a row so this weekend will most likely involve a few cook-ups so there’s a tub of soup, curry or pasta sauce to simply reheat when we get in. I’m keen to try a few new things too so we’ll see what inspires me! I’m keen to make those cabbage rolls I made last week again, so let’s hope Hill Street Grocer has plenty of cabbages…

Watching

The most profound watching (and also listening) experience of my week was Kasey Chambers’ cover of Eminem’s “Lose Yourself”. The original was a favourite running song of mine in years gone by but this is something else. I found myself in tears at this performance’s energy and power. There was something about this song being sung by a woman in her 40s, hair spilling down to her waist and a banjo in her hands, a song of melancholy, anger and hopelessness, and how it slowly built and built until it exploded into energy and power and…magic, for want of a better word. Seriously, just watch it. I have barely stopped thinking about it.

Tom and I also enjoyed a long overdue rewatch of a favourite film, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. This film is very special to us. We went to see it at the cinema in September 2010, a few days after we were married. My parents had left that day to return to Australia and we were feeling a bit blue, as we always were when Aussie family and friends departed after a visit, and in need of perking up, we decided to stroll up the King’s Road and go to the movies. The minute the film started, we knew we were going to love it - and we did! It was absolutely hilarious and still is, nearly twelve years later. I also recognised a lot of places in the movie from my trip to Toronto (where it’s set) which at the time had only been three years earlier (it has now been 15 years!!). On my trip I had paid a visit to the record store (Sonic Boom) and I so loved going to Second Cup for my signature beverage at the time (I’m sure you can guess). It’s just one of those movies that’s full of good memories and associations for us, and one I think we’ll probably watch once a year forever and never tire of. Do you have a movie like that?

Quote of the week

“I’m just going to write because I cannot help it.” - Charlotte Brontë. This is a card I bought at the Haworth Parsonage in Yorkshire in June, which I plan to have framed for my study at some point.

If you’d like to share your thoughts on this post, or anything else, with me, please do! I hope you’re keeping safe, well and warm or cool, wherever you are xx

this week

A stack of books on a table covered with a bright cloth

A few of my favourite books by First Nations writers!

This week has been NAIDOC Week in Australia - a week to celebrate and amplify the history, culture and achievements of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. It’s something I have started to really look forward to over the last few years. As someone who spent over a decade away from Australia, the small changes are very noticeable to me. When we were catching a connecting flight on our way home from the UK a few weeks ago, the Qantas boarding gate in Perth had “Naarm, Wurundjeri Country” as the destination as well as Melbourne, which made me quite emotional and proud to see. I’m not suggesting for a moment that there isn’t far, far more progress still to be made but I have noticed many changes in the time I was gone, particularly more acknowledgements of Country, which makes me feel hopeful that things are moving in the right direction.

You won’t be surprised to hear that I like to mark NAIDOC Week with literature! I have many favourite books by First Nations authors, as pictured above, so I always make a point of rereading some in NAIDOC Week, and discovering some new ones. Anita Heiss, one of my favourite writers, has an excellent recommendation list on her blog and my personal recommendation is Anita’s book Am I Black Enough For You? which I think is essential reading for all Australians. It’s not only funny, wise and insightful, it makes you challenge and think deeply about your own assumptions about what it means to be Aboriginal in Australia today. She has just released a tenth anniversary edition of the book too which my friend Kim has just reviewed on her blog (side note: Kim is an excellent reviewer and I have bought so many books because of her reviews!). But in short, if you have not yet discovered Anita Heiss and her brilliant books, I am envious! I’ve been a fan for about 20 years, since she was a guest lecturer in one of my undergraduate units. Fabulous then, fabulous now! I’m so excited to see what she writes next.

I was also excited to see that Clothing the Gap have an Ally Friendly section - as someone who wants to be a good ally, I often wondered if it was appropriate for me to wear clothing like this and most certainly didn’t want to cause offence if it wasn’t. I’m grateful to Blak businesses like Clothing the Gap who make it easy for us to show our support. In their words: “when we see Aboriginal designs in the world, it means we’re not invisible in the landscape. It makes us feel seen and heard.” I’m looking forward to wearing an Always Was, Always Will Be shirt and hope it’s a starting point for some important conversations.

Favourite experience/s of the week

Apart from seeing all the NAIDOC Week activities? And Boris Johnson’s resignation?!

Starting a business with my husband, which we’ve been talking about for years.

Reading

To mark NAIDOC Week I started another read of Larissa Behrendt’s novel After Story, one of my favourite books of 2021. Beautifully written, with so many wise and insightful observations about life, loss, trauma, connection and family, I think it’s just fabulous.

Sydney Review of Books: Re-Mystification: Adele Dumont on the Writer Laid Bare by Lee Kofman. Such a great article about a book I have been savouring slowly and enjoying very much. Dumont writes: “One of the things I love most about Kofman’s writing is her suspicion of fashions. She questions popular writing maxims, such as ‘show don’t tell’, and is critical of students’ over-use of dialogue, which she attributes to the influence of film. She believes social media is damaging our brains: ‘when not petty or nasty then nice, saccharine, friendly and chit-chatty daylight of our online interactions encroaches on the silent, dark spaces within us’.” OH GOD YES. I have so much I want to say about this. On Sunday it will be six months since I last used Instagram or Twitter. Six months. I have so much to say, mostly about how I feel I have my life back. It’s extraordinary.

Also from SRB - Snail Trails: Jessica White on Gentle and Fierce by Vanessa Berry - two writers I love! I also attended a writing workshop with Jessica White a few weeks ago which was so refreshing and fun. It got me thinking about nature and sensory detail in my writing, and being more conscious of which of the senses I automatically tune into when I write (sight and taste, interestingly).

Eating

Dave Grohl’s bad-ass lasagna got made and eaten for three dinners - I screwed up the homemade pasta dough so it was a bit chewy, but I didn’t mind! There’s no such a thing as a bad lasagna, am I right?

Chilli non carne from Linda McCartney’s Family Kitchen cookbook that I picked up in the UK - delicious!

But everything pretty much had lentils and beans in it this week…if you are a vegan or vegetarian, you’ll understand what I’m saying here.

Nigella’s vegan gingerbread is still going strong, by some miracle (though we are down to the last few pieces now). It has only got stickier and more delectable with the passing days. A friend came round for a chat this afternoon and I served her a slice. The look on her face after she took a bite was of utter bliss. “This is so good it’s almost sexual,” she said. I wholeheartedly concur.

This is the film poster I remember being everywhere when I was a child! [source]

Watching

Parks and Recreation (Netflix) - enough said. The perfect comfort watch. Ben reminds me so much of Tom! And apparently, I have Leslie’s sweetness, quirkiness and ambition but not (too much of) her scary intensity, haha!

Strictly Ballroom (Blu-Ray) - OMG, where do I start with this film? My friend Nigel Marsh has a wonderful podcast called The Five of My Life and one of the five things he asks his interviewees about is a film that has profoundly affected them. Nigel, if you ever interview me (sorry for the spoiler!), this is the film I’d pick.

I have seen this film so many times but on this viewing on Saturday night (of the Blu-Ray Tom surprised me with for my birthday), I sobbed in a way I’ve never done on a previous watch. Perhaps I just needed a good cry, I don’t know. But for a film that is 30 years old next month, it has lost none of its emotional punch. I still think it is so powerful, moving and relevant. Some critics may deride its simplistic, predictable story and Baz Luhrmann’s style of filmmaking, but Strictly Ballroom (his first) is a masterpiece.

I may write more about it to commemorate its 30th anniversary, but in short, Strictly Ballroom is a beautifully-realised film about wanting to express yourself and follow your creativity, rather than get lost in the world of external validation, awards and “shoulds”. “A life lived in fear is a life half lived,” Fran tells Scott and that is the thread that runs through the entire story, as it slowly becomes obvious that so many of the characters are ruled by fear and how diminished they are as a result.

I saw this film when it was released in the cinema in 1992, age 11, and I just loved the costumes and the romance of it all - the deeper messages were possibly lost on me. Only when I rewatched it in my early twenties did I realise that my own life was entirely governed by fear. All my decisions had been made from that place. Like so many characters in Strictly Ballroom, I was so afraid to be myself and take chances. I can’t tell you what an influence this film has had on my life, albeit probably subconsciously, in giving me the courage to go after things I really wanted and, instead of half-living, to start creating the life I really wanted to live.

The story of how Baz Luhrmann struggled to get the film made in the first place (go to the Production History section) is also very inspiring.

Quote of the week

This is a poem from Ellen Van Neerven’s marvellous collection Throat, one of my favourite books of 2020. The image is from Jonathan Shaw’s excellent blog. Jonathan wrote a wonderful review of Throat and analysis of this particular poem which I highly recommend checking out.

If you’d like to share your thoughts on this post with me, please do! Stay tuned for another exciting weekly update soon xx

a jelly-fish

Visible, invisible,
A fluctuating charm,
An amber-colored amethyst
Inhabits it; your arm
Approaches, and
It opens and
It closes;
You have meant
To catch it,
And it shrivels;
You abandon
Your intent—
It opens, and it
Closes and you
Reach for it—
The blue
Surrounding it
Grows cloudy, and
It floats away
From you.

Marianne Moore (“A Jelly-Fish”)


This morning I woke up from a disorienting dream about someone I haven’t thought about for a long time. In the dream, an encounter was recreated and, unlike what happened in reality all those years ago, I left. I had to swim through a pool of jellyfish to get away. As I tried to cross the pool, and avoid the jellyfish, they multiplied. Not necessarily more dangerous, just harder to avoid. I found that if I swam slowly and carefully, and ironically didn’t fear them, I could pass through safely.

This afternoon, I drew this.

Bad memories are a bit like Marianne Moore’s jellyfish, aren’t they? Visible yet invisible.

But if they’re memories now, then you have already survived. There is nothing to fear. And even if they do show up again, you can swim through.

life lessons

Today I found a poem (well, I called it a poem - collection of thoughts might be more accurate!) I wrote when I was 27. I’m now 40, and I think the advice it contains has stood the test of time.

Me in Hyde Park, age 27. Photo taken by Tom, my then boyfriend, now husband of 11 years.

Me in Hyde Park, age 27. Photo taken by Tom, my then boyfriend, now husband of 11 years.


If it sounds too good to be true
it probably is.
Pick your friends wisely.
Never take happiness for granted.
Try to finish what you start.
Don't sneeze too loudly
in public.
Wear lipstick on Sundays.
Remember you don't have to fake it
when you're with the right person.
There is nothing that can stop you,
short of death.
Recycle.
Smell strawberries,
roses and clean hair
with equal delight.
Drink water.
Have more books than clothes.
Always offer.
Buy a good coat.
Say please.
Don't rent a flat when you can see
rat bait in the kitchen.
A good bolognaise needs red wine.
As does cheese.
Take a day off. Don't be afraid to ask
for what you want.
But don't do it just because you can.
Write only, and flamboyantly,
with a fountain pen.
Wear sunscreen.
Say thank you.
Smile at people on public transport.
You'll either brighten their day,
or confuse them.
Find some stars for your sky.

eavan boland: the lost art of letter writing

Image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay 

Image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay 

THE LOST ART OF LETTER WRITING

The ratio of daylight to handwriting
Was the same as lacemaking to eyesight.
The paper was so thin it skinned air.

The hand was fire and the page tinder.
Everything burned away except the one
Place they singled out between fingers

Held over a letter pad they set aside
For the long evenings of their leave-takings,
Always asking after what they kept losing,

Always performing—even when a shadow
Fell across the page and they knew the answer
Was not forthcoming—the same action:

First the leaning down, the pen becoming
A staff to walk fields with as they vanished
Underfoot into memory. Then the letting up,

The lighter stroke, which brought back
Cranesbill and thistle, a bicycle wheel
Rusting: an iron circle hurting the grass

Again and the hedges veiled in hawthorn
Again just in time for the May Novenas
Recited in sweet air on a road leading

To another road, then another one, widening
To a motorway with four lanes, ending in
A new town on the edge of a city

They will never see. And if we say
An art is lost when it no longer knows
How to teach a sorrow to speak, come, see

The way we lost it: stacking letters in the attic,
Going downstairs so as not to listen to
The fields stirring at night as they became

Memory and in the morning as they became
Ink; what we did so as not to hear them
Whispering the only question they knew

By heart, the only one they learned from all
Those epistles of air and unreachable distance,
How to ask: is it still there?

- Eavan Boland