Mayfield Street Poetry Slam

I’ll be joining poets Amy Crutchfield, Joe Pascoe and Suzanne Kennedy for Mayfield Streets first poetry slam and art exhibition, Mrs Cardwell’s Ghost, on 17th February. It’s free, just register via Eventbrite.

Amy Crutchfield – author of forthcoming book The Cyprian. Her poems have been published in Australia, England, Ireland and China and she won the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize in 2020/21.  She will be reading her poem entitled “The Memory of Water”.

Rachel Smith – poet and crime fiction writer from Warrandyte. Published in poetry magazines, her work has also  featured on the walls of the Deutsche Bank in Krakow for the UNESCO City of Literature Multi Poetry program. She will read a domestic noir prose poetry spoken piece called “Feet of Clay”.

Suzanne Kennedy – Melbourne-based poet, who has lived in Tasmania and Central America. She won the 2022 American Association of Australasian Literary Studies (AAALS) award, the 2022 Nillumbik Poetry prize (open), and was shortlisted for the 2022 Australian Catholic University Poetry Prize. She will be reading her poem “Cemetery Carnival”.

Joe Pascoe – a contemporary Australian poet who bases his work on what people are doing every day in their lives. His new book is called Sharp Pencil.

17 February, 2023 – 7pm
Mayfield Gallery (Upstairs at Cardwell Cellars)
461 Victoria Street
Abbotsford

Opening up, getting out

One of the things I have enjoyed most about being home this spring has been to observe the changes in the forest on my daily walks. The bushland spring blooms are tiny, prolific and colourful, if short lived, displays. Some of my favourites include the chocolate lily (arthropodium strictures), blue pincushion (Brunonia autralis), button everlasting (helichrysum scorpiodis), milkmaids (burchadia umbellata) and the tufted grey-green perennial kangaroo grass (Themeda triandra) with its red-geeen spikelet flowers

The emergence of spring blooms seems in some way more symbolic this year as Melbourne opens up after its own long slumber, the 111 day pandemic hard lockdown. The flowering seems to auger new beginnings as we all start to find our way back out into the world.

The background hum of traffic has grown louder as the roads become busier. What now appears as mayhem makes it seem as if many have forgotten how to drive.

My local village fills with day trippers seeking out fresh air and greenery. The sight of them sends me scurrying back home from my walk to my little patch of peaceful solitude.

I find the sudden acceleration of pace confronting. When a friend suggests we go out to a restaurant for a birthday lunch I am simultaneously excited about seeing friends in the flesh and terrified of being out amongst a crowd of people. One friend calls it ‘fogo’ (fear of going out).

Having adjusted to lockdown life, I feel reluctant to return to the whirly of life as it was ‘before’ and hope to retain some of this more sedate existence.