Australian Monuments

Australian Monuments

I want to share this Australian history with my children. I want them to know about the oldest culture in the world, their convict ancestors, and the role of their late grandfather in building perhaps the world’s most tolerant and successful multi-cultural society.

But what the fuck is wrong with my country?

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Emerging in landscape

Emerging in landscape

I love the following descriptions of our place in landscape from John O’ Donohue, who was born and lived in the west of Ireland.

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The Yurt

The Yurt

The frogs are loving this weather. It’s been raining and blowing on the coast here just out of Sydney for three long days and each night as I lay down to sleep beside my daughter in this yurt the frogs sing us into the stormy night with the insistence of Steve Reich.

I love this place but it’s not always easy being here. On the first night of this trip I was spooked by the ghost of my father. His ineffable presence was everywhere in the decaying wood of the place. I see his ambition in the grand aspect of the land looking down the coast to Sydney. Naturally he’s indistinguishable from the fact of my presence here and the soft breath of my sleeping children.

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Hell is Chrome

Hell is Chrome

“When the Devil came he was not red / he was chrome and he said / come with me”

Scrolling through Instagram the other night I came across a picture on the account of an old friend. The glossy perfection of the image perplexed me.

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