From the marrow

Standing Stones, Ancient Sorrows

What I didn’t know when I rolled into Glen Innes was how familiar this small town would feel. From about ten kilometres outside its boundary, I felt an ancestral echo I can only describe as familiar — organic, internal. Strange, but something I won’t forget soon. Before arriving, I didn’t know Glen Innes is the… Continue reading Standing Stones, Ancient Sorrows

From the marrow

When ‘enough’ means letting go

The art of knowing when to stop holding on Written in my final three weeks at Motel Strahan, when my body began whispering that it was time to go. This morning, I woke with one thought pulsing: three weeks to go. Three weeks until I finish at Motel Strahan. I’ve offered to clean on my last day,… Continue reading When ‘enough’ means letting go

Van life / Road life reality, Writing My Bones

Bin Chickens (a.k.a. the Naughty Birds)

Van life / Road life reality So, yesterday I took a photo of what I thought was a sacred ibis. But it was white. I’m familiar with this birdlife from the peninsula in Victoria where I’m based, but I’d never seen a white one before. I watched it, photographed it, cropped the pic, and sent… Continue reading Bin Chickens (a.k.a. the Naughty Birds)

Archives, Blog - Inside Out

On Writing Well

After only two chapters of Zissner’s book, I know my writing holds too much clutter. Anyone who knows me knows clutter is a personal issue. I am at war with clutter in my home. To consider it a bane of good writing is a surprise.