I can’t remember a time when there wasn’t poetry: from the Irish lullabies my mother sang when we were put to bed, to my first hard cover 1968 edition of …
That sun ray has raced to us at those millions of miles an hour. But when it reaches the floor of the room it creeps slower than a philosopher, it makes a bright puddle that …
Kim Scott is a Western Australian, with an Anglo father and a Nyungar mother. His novel is part fiction, part self-exploration as he moves his character Billy Storey, a teacher, …
Without a conversation there can be no art. Both artists and audiences must keep company with or live amongst art in order for it to become familiar and known. I am …
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field the whole pageantry of the year was awake tingling near the edge of the sea concerned with itself sweating in the sun that melted the wings’ wax unsignificantly off the coast there …
