On a social media post about an estate sale of works by a deceased artist, one person commented something like if they had not achieved a sustainable income and/or fame from their art by the time of their death, they would have everything burn. This person seemed angry that the deceased artist, who clearly had … Continue reading After me, what’s left
death
Circular learning
Different teachers and lecturers have shaped my life and I'm reflecting on this as the memorial service for one of my undergrad lecturers was held recently. I didn't attend, but he was, and will probably remain to my mind, one of the most memorable people I have ever encountered within education or beyond it. By … Continue reading Circular learning
Taking a moment
On death and writing and bells and Australian TV.
Nothing matters and it all does
When confronted by death I am full of useless impulses to be doing. I think. I attempt poetry. I weep. I don't want to eulogise. I look up rituals. I listen. I wait and cannot. I sleep, or try to. I wake, and try not to. I complete my usual household tasks. I watch grey clouds … Continue reading Nothing matters and it all does
Doctor Who: Below the Surface
The last great frost fair, a frozen Thames, and kids in danger of being transported (amongst other things), oh yes, it is Doctor Who in 1814 London. Thin Ice presents Bill with her first 'Star-Whale' conundrum, does she give the order to save the beast below, or have it killed? Except Amy intervened to stop … Continue reading Doctor Who: Below the Surface
This April is the cruellest month
It was my birthday last week; not especially an important one, except for one reason. I am now the same age as my mother. Weird. It's weird to imagine me leading her life, when ours diverged significantly. Weird thinking about the responsibilities and worries she had that I don't and never will. Weird to think … Continue reading This April is the cruellest month
Writing Bec 