Murals of Benalla and Beyond One could say Benalla was the maiden road trip that ignited my desire to explore Victoria and beyond the state border, seeking these epic paintings. In early December 2019, I packed my car with two of my daughters in tow and drove four hours to Benalla, a rural town in ...

Big Mallee Sky (continued) In the heart of the Mallee is the small town of Sea Lake. It made the perfect base for exploring the silo trail and the magical-looking Lake Tyrrell, only seven kilometres away and one of the more unique natural attractions I’ve visited. Lake Tyrell Lake Tyrrell is on the edge of ...

The Fyansford Silo first piqued my interest in silo art. I drove passed it most days to work. The silo stood high atop the hill at the railway sidings by the old cement works. They were painted by Rone, a globally recognised Geelong-born street artist. The silo depicted three members of the Geelong community, including ...

Standing in my bedroom doorway, the ground binds around my feet, mud reaching up to my ankles. Theebb of water,river,bloated, fear holding me by the ankles, I yearn  —  release. Water resides,revealingsprawling roots, clusters of bulbous buds. Thick crimson limbs meandering through drawers andcupboard doors  —  out the window. Trawling through the mud one foot ...

I live in a falling-down house with a beautiful garden. It could easily be the eyesore of the street (except my neighbours are too polite to say so out loud). The house on the corner, two up from mine, with the white picket fence and yellow door, has been empty since Dorothy passed away. Her ...

Oh, lemony lemons! They can brighten up any dish, their mouth-watering pops of sourness so pleasing to the palate. A nifty and resourceful fruit, lemons add the perfect acidity to any dish. Life without lemons—is unthinkable! I squeeze them on fish, chicken, mushrooms, and roasted vegetables—think about seasonal vegetables. I love asparagus, capsicum, and pumpkin. ...

When I am at home with my dog, nothing brings me more joyful moments than her wet nose and her tail swishing side to side.

The scissors slide easily through the thick stems of the sunflowers I bought at the market this morning. Taking care, I arrange them into bunches and place them into buckets of water, alongside the dahlias, poppies and carnations.

Hanging out. Wild billowy sentences, Friday night in August. *** By the moonlight, she is smashing sentences with a pen. *** Late June, cold words quiver across the page. *** The stars disappear, it is too dark to write too cold—inhibiting. *** Hazy summer day, reading, sipping tea beneath low hanging clouds. *** She reads, ...

I use my dreams to disappear in, conceal my brooding truths, and pretend to live between realities— here is the story of last night’s dream. She says to me, consider the statue of David Greybeard, overlooking the Yarra River, the fish shimmering of mercury, effervescent green lawns. I say, oh, beautiful, beautiful, Greybeard’s open hand—their ...