at night here, the horses that spend the day on swanston st are guided past the studio.
at around six o'clock.
and the noise sounds like nothing else.
one night i was walking somewhere and wearing my brown boots,
i was walking quickly and the boots are missing their bottoms, so they make that loud hollow coconut shell noise,
you know the one
i quickly gained on an italian family on their way to pizza,
as i approached them the son quipped that i sounded like a horse.
he was old enough to know better, maybe thirty years old.
not the three year old you pictured.
when i was little
kids called me trotter
and clapped their hands on their laps.
it was supposed to be funny.


camilla just made a noise on her microwave - glass - rotating - plate.
her palette
a noise like when you put a mug of milk in the box so it gets warm
but 'dont let the milk get a skin'
i used to love getting that milky skin on my finger
and sticking the rubbery matter in my mouth to dissolve
camilas noise though,
was a jar of poison she dips her brushes in to make a beautiful shine
on her dark pictures


my mother jokingly made a suggestion to me about
'he's just not that into you'
that she bought at a weak moment
and read it while she was weak
i said i think its ridiculous but i couldnt articulate why



the sun is shining today,
but i have large rocks in my stomach.

i went out to a place called jeparit once,
its by the desert in NW victoria.
i had rocks in my stomach then too.

on our way we went through ararat and took the scenic route,
the one you take with the little brown sign, to see the wind farm.

big elegant and serene
they rhythmically turned,
around and around. waving.

also on the scenic route, there was an old gold quarry.
a big hole in the ground filled with rusty tractors, once strong and dependable,
now filled with holes, and no where to sit in their shell.

the farmer stood at the fence and told us to come and have a look. he didnt seem to mind at all.
three kids, taking 'beatutiful' pictures,
"be careful he shouted behind us" as we crawled in and out and around,
climbing down deep into a hole someone dug a long time ago.

i picked up a rock then. it felt sharp in my hand and its shiny speckles glinted through the basalt.

the grampians stood over us in thebackground.

and i held the rock and put it in my bag.

once i was going to go to a fancy dress party,
a halloween party, and i dressed up as miranda from picnic at hanging rock,
the same rock hanging from my neck (the pun) me all pale and white, and the rock poking my ribs.

now it sits under my bed in a box.

but i feel like its heavy in my stomach. a sadness rambling around,
poking me here and there with that crying feeling in my throat.

im at my desk.
im slowly slipping the skin off a firm mandarin.
you know that smell?
the one that will hint at everyones nose whether they like it or not?
and spitting out the seeds.

they're becoming cheap these mandy's
but today as i passed the fruit man i mourned the
loss of bananas, all bruised.
poor nanas. poor generation of little tykes that are missing them in they're toddler stages right now.

one of my best friends is a writer.
she writes all sorts of things, for newspapers. and she writes stories.
she teaches little ratbags to write, in greensborough once a week.
two weeks ago she disappeared and went off to the west to a womens prison. (clit clink)
yesterday she hung out with heroin addicts.
i often wonder how pretty anna k. (elliot smith rings in my head went i say that 'pretty mary k')
can do it. she gives so much to make people who read the paper a little smarter.
she says i have made her see things differently. im not sure how.

and i wish she knew how many people she has made see things differently.

i love her.

the pictures here are from WA
and they are hers.
and i love them.


back to basics...

the view....

Dark as at 9pm on a summer night

low clouds come from the sea
from the south
the tops of the towers are covered
become encased in cloud

two boys rush out hoping to get caught up in it
an excuse not to come back inside
a foggy city
a seemless boundless storm in the day

the day ages and the wind blows
hard and deep into your ears and mouth
eyes close, exposed

to be in the tower where there is only cloud out the window
not like in a plane
where you are bound to your seat
and bounce about through the sky

but in a room in the clouds

im not high enough today


i dont think i can tip off again... disaster strikes when i do.

my housemate and friend Romy went to said fig tree yesterday.
she walked up the lane where i said it was and
found the branches.

dismembered yet laden branches.

the tree was cut down.
hard rubbish brings me mostlyjoy
but also pain, the rash and indiscriminate lopping of trees
so you can bundle them up, tie them with string and throw them away...


im sorry.

Romy grabbed as many figs as she cold carry in her arms and brought them home.
and they will make jam.
and hopefully there are other trees in the neighbourhood for yours....


so the quices are in brandy, star anise and cinnamon,
expelling their peachiness into golden warm brandy...
not sure what it will be week in six weeks time, but hopefully nigella is right.
a drink for cold nights by the blazing fire (or gas heater as the case may be)

fig jam is next... mmm. mmm. m.
on big chuncks of hot buttered rye.

for the purpose of clarification, yes there are enough figs for the whole of north carlton but you might need a milk crate or two to get to the real plump ones...
here is a map.

it is ACTUALLY* at the end of a lane on the north side of

hmm. the weather is bizarre! this morning i woke up and the view revealed upon snoozes many different moods. cloudy, bright blue and sunny, and stormy, and rainy. only ten minutes apart.

all is quiet at the quest hotel, allthe venetians are closed so tight i cant see a thing.

I have the keys to move in to my studio in my hot (cold actually) little hands and am so excited. Murray and I move in tomorrow. Then i will build nest upon nest and settle my feathers.

see you around there is lots on tomorrow...


disclaimer: was on the way home from the docter (blood suckers) when first found tree therefore there was a little glitch or two upon trying to describe exactly where it was.... sorry