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There’s a famous Paul Kelly lyric that visits me in moments when I need to meet my own unwisdoms about time — when I’m grappling with how long things take. I’ll let you bump into it in your own time — maybe in the queue at the self-service checkouts, maybe at a house party, maybe in a taxi. It suffices to say that this essay emerged from a curiosity born of accelerating encounters with impatience at a particular time in national history. I’m not referring to the most recent referendum, actually, but rather to a fairly banal pre-election moment. I had been predictably hearing a lot of fast, domineering bluster about what was “obvious”. While I tried to make sense of the swarm of impatient conversations in which I was finding myself, I realised that in order to understand more about impatience I needed to think about waiting.... Overland.
Sitting. Just sitting. That’s what it’s called. A somewhat unusual, perhaps unnatural activity, but arguably no less bizarre than many of the things we’re embroiled-in and busy-with, over the course of a life. Between birth and dying: that mercurial stretch. Ours and not-ours. Impersonal and intimate....
Literary Hub
Antonia Pont’s debut collection of poetry, You Will Not Know in Advance What You’ll Feel came out with the Rabbit Poets Series at the end of 2019. I went to her launch, where Antonia read in response to poems that her friends had written in reply to poems in her book....
Cordite
What a word! Just typing it seems like a waste of life, a drain on my vital reserves. Well, it’s up there now and I’ll refer to it sparingly, judiciously. It does exist as a word (hence the problem we face), and even if it exists as a concept—(which I want to challenge)—I have doubts about the bulk of the instances in which it’s used. How often do we let this dubious term slide in as knee-jerk name for a whole lot of time, experience, sensation and movement that I (personally) would rather call my life?
Literary Hub
3CR Interview (2023)
with Tina Giannoukos
My interest in this essay is my interest in, my curiosity about, envy. Operating more as Nietzschean difference than as a negating, the “vs.,” in other words, is active rather than adversarial. The take-home—to save your reading on—pertains to dosage. While grim to experience, envy insists; it isn’t going anywhere. Even as visual trace, as word, it cuts a compelling figure. Four letters, in their uppercase guise: sloping, canyonesque, stalactite-mite-like.
Literary Hub
