The Electric Holy Road is hardly a straight one. It winds and turns back on itself and runs straight forward into blinding white uncertainty. A single trip can wind you up in a place you would never even have imagined existed. The pull of the Great Magnet (that which governs the path of us road-weary […]Read more "The Sardine Has Burned"
The killer arrived just after The Three Wise Men had departed. He slipped in through the barred second floor window with his toolkit and chloroform in hand, stuffed the rag into my mouth, then went to work dismantling my time. I learned later that the killer’s name was Winter, and that he had already visited […]Read more "The Fifth Winter"
For me, creation comes from creation. In deep green it is possible to find the spark necessary for a blaze. Surrounded by tall glass walls and cement, creation seems to wither and fade away. That’s not to say that I can’t write within a city setting, I just find that doing so is like digging […]Read more "Angels in the Garden"
Walls was written as part of a Creative Writing assignment at my home university. The theme was on “Boundary Riding”, as in, moving between fiction and documentary, commentary and creation. Walls is my (slightly fictionalised) account of my brief time in Berlin, a time where I cam to grips with the walls that define, […]Read more "Kein Ost, Kein West, Nur Uns (Or: Walls)"
I’ve decided on a few goals for 2017. One: get published in Voiceworks or other Aussie Lit. Journal. Two: Don’t start another Goodreads reading challenge. Two and a half: Finish reading Infinite Jest. Three: Try not to believe in the meaning of numbers. I’m going atheist on the whole number subject. In 2015 I set […]Read more "Advice from the Good Doctor Garden"
“I’m going to see Buddha if it kills me! It should be right around here.” It’s a bit of a cliché to start off a sentence with “It’s a bit of a cliché…” but… It’s a bit of a cliché to call a hill “rolling”, but the bubbling green mounds around Sellick’s Beach’s Nan Hai […]Read more "On the Electric Holy Road Again (or: Blasting Through the Peninsula in a Rainbow-Powered Sedan)"
The fisherman, silhouetted against a cool sun, cast out his line and caused a barely perceptible ripple in the middle of the wide, watery mirror that is Lake Como, Italy. Across from my vantage point – a rock wall above stranded and bobbing boats – I could see the slowly rising mountains and the tiny […]Read more "The Holy Off-Season on Lake Como"