18. November 2019
Sometimes the old loaf of bread can fill itself with so many voices you’d swear the local choir mob has parked right between ya listeners. I’ve got pews and all for my choir!! An absolute champion spoke of it only yesterday. ‘I get the noise in my head’ he said. Telling me I’m no good at this and that, I’ve convinced myself I’m dumb. He talked from the ticker on all of it to the fellas, he even threw the GPS mark on where it comes from back in the day and how he reckons he can...
17. November 2019
Sitting looking at a wool shed. From the shearing qUrters. Music. Cold beer. Where am I most at peace? I know the answer. I’m here. In it. Colours are more spectacular than a New Jersey turnpike at peak hour. The energy is something else. Years ago shearer’s sat here watching the drovers move there. A roast in the camp oven. Will it works? Who cares. I don’t do any painful thinking out here. I just exist. It’s that silence. That moment of going slow. I have to tell myself to go slow....