A pink box bouncing from edge to edge inside a television. A live-streamed funeral on an iPhone, soft-singing voices on low volume. Onion sizzling in a brand-new pan, the flourishing of steak in a bloom of hot oil. Cooked flesh. Kitchen noises, kitchen smells. A beeping microwave fighting the funeral rhythms leaking through iPhone speakers. Onion tears. A sleeping dog curled up in a too-small … Continue reading a kitchen-esque evening.
A dream is a beautiful thing. But as with all beauty, it is fragile, ruinable. Sad. A dream, by which I mean an aspiration, a goal. But more than a goal. A dream is romantic, improbable, dazzling, impractical. It sets alight the heart and is guarded by it, not for the scrutiny of peering third parties. Not for their ponderings or suggestions. No, a dream … Continue reading A dream
It’s one of those old hurts. A moon-shaped crevice dug into the skin, a bit lumpy and scarred over in dark pigment. It is mostly dormant. But on the occasion that it is awakened, the hurt is just that: occasional. It is the hurt of a light scratch over a an old scar. A surprise graze, brushing past the corner of a table, making an … Continue reading an old hurt
the gums were encased in an orange glaze, touched by the orange sun as the hazy day rolled to the edge of twilight, while the cockatoos called and the wind whispered its silvery tune. australia is home. …. …… this afternoon while the sun was setting, i looked up to see the canopy of our beautiful australian gum trees absolutely glowing in the orange sunlight, … Continue reading orange gumtrees
My mother was a pianist, once. She lived alone, on the second floor of a grey apartment building perched on the edge of Seoul. It was just out of the city, because it was all she could afford, and a 40 minute car ride to her job selling sushi and tea to tourists and suit-clad workers at an art gallery that overlooked the skyline. She … Continue reading the pianist
Living in an affluent part of Sydney that can be aptly described as a “bubble” – an insular community of the wealthy, the ambitious, the connected, the upper class, I can only explain myself as feeling stuck in a grey space. I feel trapped. There is a never-ending internal conflict between the values that surround me – the ones I’ve internalised from 17 years of … Continue reading an honest reflection.
The pages floated peacefully in the breeze. An opaque white wind gliding against a backdrop of lush trees. A harmonious antithesis – different, but at the end of it all, fundamentally the same. For they both held secrets kept by the heart, silently pulsing with unshared life and knowledge, glowing with the promise of the truth. They held the beauty of the journey – the … Continue reading words and trees
The cup was yours this morning. It’s funny how it’s yours one day and mine the next. Coffee and tea, tea and coffee. A small clay creation – a model of those little white porcelain ones you get with your jasmine tea at a yum cha. But this one is different. Misshaped and glazed with an array of colours that don’t go well together. The … Continue reading where’s the coffee?
Do you ever feel alone? Just lonely. And still, cocooned by the chatter and the noise and the laughter. But disjointed, disconnected. People. Like weak magnets drawn together by nothing but an arbitrary, imaginary force. Perhaps the most significant imaginary force to ever believe in. But still, inevitably, we are separate. Our worlds unshared, unknown, untouched. Do we share them? Some magnets … Continue reading alone
A thick mist hung on the waistline of the earth, that place where the clouds meet the waves that seem to roll of the edge of the planet. Beneath it a purple haze stained the sky, a halo embracing the sleepy mountains, mingling with the wet blue glow of the valley. Motionless. And I wondered how it could be, even as the earth lurched away … Continue reading purple mist