Time is the silent gatekeeper and the only immortal of this life. With each stroke through the seconds and the minutes another moment is defined. I have never been a friend of time. We kept each other at bay. A distance I found solace in as I grew in apprehension of what lay in wait.…

Do you believe in magic? I think as adult’s magic holds no place in our lives. Not even in our darkest of moments do we reach out to magic, we cling on to the darkness instead. As the year turns on itself, I find myself needing a little magic. I certainly need more magic than…

I have always been afraid of change. I remember the night before the first day of a school year thirteen times over. Huddled under my doona wishing the summer holidays would last forever. Reluctant to even peep my toes out from bed, let alone face the doom of change that waited as a new school…

Dear Miss Seventeen, I owe you an apology. For years we were friends, or at least you thought we were friends. But our friendship was the worst kind. Behind your back I was the last person to be your friend. Defiant and strong willed as you were I disliked you more than I ever liked…

When we were kids promises happened every day. “Wait for me after school?” “Yep!” “Promise?”  Sepia coloured days where promises meant everything. Today I am the keeper of someone else’s sepia days – my two boys. Their world is full of promises. Days that tick by to the tempo of one promise after another. “Sushi…

Even if I were to sit here and write for hours, I could never capture the rite of passage a new baby goes through when they are born into the code of AFL, as perfectly as does Bruce Dawe in his poem Life Cycle (for Big Jim Phelan). When our two boys were born, applications…

When I first thought about this post I had an idea in my mind to slip away for an afternoon, camera in hand and walk through my beautiful city. I wanted to capture images of strangers going about their everyday life. There is a certain beauty in this everyday life that we can often overlook…

She kneels at his bedside table. Head bent low and hands clasped. Silence kneels beside her, in constant vigil. The unknowing beckons and calls. The dark, ghost like fingers of doubt extend to her, calling her, drawing out her name in the dead of night. He lays motionless. His chest barely moving as he takes…

I entered a competition, not too long ago, which asked one simple question: if you could have one superpower what would it be. Surprisingly, so many answers said they wanted the power of invisibility. Others asked to be able to read people’s minds. Many asked for the power to fly. My answer was raw and…