As a creative, I’m always on the look out for artists that inspire me. Maybe it’s a new idea or a technique or something done particularly effectively. Like in bookclub we recently read Oscar Wilde’s A Picture of Dorian Grey, which I’d never read before, and which I loved. It is meticulously crafted and has definitely gone straight back onto the shelf to be reread at some point. On a first reading it made me think more about the structure of what I write; how to use plot and character to move a reader around the ideas that I want to explore.
On the weekend I went and saw a photography exhibition at the Casula Powerhouse – Carol Jerrems – photographic artist. She’s not a photographer I was aware of previously, but her work is quite striking, especially her portraiture. Jerrems died young – she lived from 1950 to 1980 – and produced an impressive body of work. The most famous is called Vale Street.
I first drafted this poem in 2003 when I was living in Wimbledon, London, five minutes walk from the fabulously beautiful Wimbledon Common. I edited and had the poem published in the UTS Students Magazine ‘The Fine Print’ in 2006.
When I was growing up I knew next to nothing about Sri Lanka. I knew they played cricket, were in the Commonwealth Games and that one of the guys from my school was from there. Because of the sporting links I knew the country was part of the Commonwealth and so like Australia was a former British colony. Continue reading Sri Lanka – insurgency, war crimes and me
I was born and grew up in the suburbs of Western Sydney. From when I was very little – six, to be precise – I knew that I wanted to create worlds and stories and reach out and communicate with people about the world the way I saw it. When I look at pictures of me as a child there’s usually a big grin on my face. Continue reading Storytelling and Marketing – it’s all about the mentor
If communicating with constituents and achieving change was just about the facts, and what is right, Greens policies (in my humble opinion) would be government policies, the world would be taking great steps to tackle climate change and social inequity, and I’d be able to afford to own my own home.
But it’s obviously not just the facts that determine government policy or voter intention. The language we use and the way we communicate ideas clearly has as much impact as the ideas themselves.
Before I picked up my bag of washing from the laundromat this afternoon I went into Gleebooks to pick out a present for the 30th birthday party I’m now going to tonight. Four steps in the door I saw a hardback of Haruki Murakami’s new work, 1Q84. Murakami’s one of my favourite authors (eternal thanks to my sister for introducing me to his books) and he writes beautiful passages, like the following from Dance, Dance, Dance:
At times like this, the telephone becomes a timebomb. No one knows when it’s going to go off. But it’s ticking away with possibility.
This was the first passport of my own that I owned (I’d shared one before from when I was seven and mum and dad and I went to Hong Kong and then Korea to adopt my brother and sister). I’m fifteen in this photo. Obviously you can see from the photo the genesis of the suave stylish individual you now know and love (or don’t on either count).