It's sad to see The Chaser's War on Everything has ended. I am a fan of The Chaser boys. They are renegades, fools, larrikins, critics, upstarts, firebrands and dissociatives. We need them. They keep us all in check.
LJ, July 30 2009.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
AFGHANISTAN
So, eleven Aussie troops have now died in Afghanistan. Can someone remind me why we're over there?
LJ, July 30 2009.
LJ, July 30 2009.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
MELBOURNE AQUARIUM
A couple of weeks back I visited Melbourne Aquarium.
I was knocked out by what I saw there: king and gentoo penguins in various states of bliss in an icy box featuring a cool pool (I thought the kings were robots from a distance!), jellyfish lit for effect, nonchalant weedy sea-dragons, various massive rays being fed by game divers and most remarkably, a leopard shark eating a cos lettuce.
It was also tremendous to see so many kids rushing from tank to tank in utter rapture. Animals are crucial for children - they encourage kids to find wonder, selflessness and empathy.
LJ, July 30 2009.
I was knocked out by what I saw there: king and gentoo penguins in various states of bliss in an icy box featuring a cool pool (I thought the kings were robots from a distance!), jellyfish lit for effect, nonchalant weedy sea-dragons, various massive rays being fed by game divers and most remarkably, a leopard shark eating a cos lettuce.
It was also tremendous to see so many kids rushing from tank to tank in utter rapture. Animals are crucial for children - they encourage kids to find wonder, selflessness and empathy.
LJ, July 30 2009.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
WET INK
A poem of mine entitled Valley Pieces is being published in the next edition of Wet Ink magazine. I am chuffed.
That poem was drawn from a sacred time in Kangaroo Valley, on NSW's south coast, back in 2006; a time of Asian tourists running with wombats, ancient gum gloom, failed python and platyypus searches, much laughing over a mythical quest for a Were Wombat with complete stangers, toadlet operettas, green-grey rain, poems scratched in windscreen ice and many types of family nurturing...
Much respect to Dominique Wilson and her Wet Ink team for saluting my work. Apparently, I was ahead of seven hundred other entries! This is a great boost - I recently went nowhere in three significant literary prizes.
LJ, May 16 2009.
That poem was drawn from a sacred time in Kangaroo Valley, on NSW's south coast, back in 2006; a time of Asian tourists running with wombats, ancient gum gloom, failed python and platyypus searches, much laughing over a mythical quest for a Were Wombat with complete stangers, toadlet operettas, green-grey rain, poems scratched in windscreen ice and many types of family nurturing...
Much respect to Dominique Wilson and her Wet Ink team for saluting my work. Apparently, I was ahead of seven hundred other entries! This is a great boost - I recently went nowhere in three significant literary prizes.
LJ, May 16 2009.
NPP 09
I've just started putting paper to pen for this year's Newcastle Poetry Prize, Australia's most prestigious poetry prize. Entries are due in July.
I'm full of gusto and uncertainty all at once. I have two main ideas I'm fleshing out... One involves Joannes Lees, Peter Falconio and the Stuart Highway. I was traveling through the Northern Territory in July 2001, when Falconio went missing - it was a surreal time. I recall Identikit images of Bradley Murdoch being in shop fronts in Alice Springs and this creeping unease under the surface of things. When driving at night, you had to distract yourself from thoughts of being potential prey. The other concept centres on possible truths stemming from humanity's relationship with North Queensland's wilderness.
Who knows which of the two pieces will bloom and radiate the most? At the end of the day, I'm not that worried. If a poem makes it into this year's anthology, as my work did in 2007, well and good, if not, there are always other avenues to explore... As Karl Wallinger from World Party sang in the early 90s, 'the possibilities dance all around me.'
LJ, May 2009.
I'm full of gusto and uncertainty all at once. I have two main ideas I'm fleshing out... One involves Joannes Lees, Peter Falconio and the Stuart Highway. I was traveling through the Northern Territory in July 2001, when Falconio went missing - it was a surreal time. I recall Identikit images of Bradley Murdoch being in shop fronts in Alice Springs and this creeping unease under the surface of things. When driving at night, you had to distract yourself from thoughts of being potential prey. The other concept centres on possible truths stemming from humanity's relationship with North Queensland's wilderness.
Who knows which of the two pieces will bloom and radiate the most? At the end of the day, I'm not that worried. If a poem makes it into this year's anthology, as my work did in 2007, well and good, if not, there are always other avenues to explore... As Karl Wallinger from World Party sang in the early 90s, 'the possibilities dance all around me.'
LJ, May 2009.
EUROVISION
Ah, you've got to love Eurovision... the tizz, the glamour, the glitz, the pomp, the majesty, the hair, the implants, the cheekbones, the boots, the fire and ice, the passion, the sincerity, the rich layers of meaning and nuance in the song lyrics... and the hair... If you missed this year's early round stuff, check out Bulgaria's stupendous entry... It made me cry.
Oh, did I mention the hair?
LJ, May 16 2009
Oh, did I mention the hair?
LJ, May 16 2009
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