European countries that refuse to take in their proportion of forced migrants will face a financial charge of about €250,000 per refugee, according to Brussels’ plans to overhaul the bloc’s asylum rules. That’s about $400,000 per person. Given Australia today has 30,037 people seeking asylum (according to the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre), it would be … Continue reading
Supermarkets, I This shiny, Heavy, green apple. Scalloped teeth, Puncturing leathery skin. Breaking into Year Old Flesh.
Last year, I visited Uluru for work. It doesn’t mean much in the Pitjantjatjara language, but the word belongs to its people. It existed long before any half-drawn maps were rolled out on tabletops in cities on the other side of the planet. Yet, the gateway to the region for visiting whitefellas is still called … Continue reading
It was as refreshing as the subject matter to be asked by the lovely and talented Simone Rosenbauer to help with the press push for her current photographic exhibition, Like Ice in the Sunshine. Dripping, melting, elusive and fragmentary, our selves are constantly evolving, being shaped by the elements we are exposed to and taking … Continue reading
She held the pen precisely, with force, control. Her left hand is spread, holding down her diary’s fiddly, springy pages with their golden edges, fingerprints pushing on a well trodden spot. There were words above where she hovered, crossings-out, capitals, not cursive. Thoughts, perhaps, or more accurately, memories. Small pieces of a past that was … Continue reading
The plastic surgeon who gives his 16-year-old daughter and her friends boob jobs, Botox and lip fillers. The New Jersey parents who spent $45,000 on their son’s first birthday. The woman who lost 500lbs. The 45-year-old who claims that every time she has plastic surgery, she gets a promotion at her Wall Street job. The … Continue reading
I’m en route from Manhattan to Bondi via Zermatt, Melksham and Dubai. As ever, I’m taking commissions, writing features and working on ditties and projects along the way. // My hands look old today. My wicks are curled and that scar from a freezing November astroturf collision is brighter pink than usual. The skin is … Continue reading
The Puerto Ricans behind the hot foods counter don’t talk to the sushi guy to their right. He silently tends to his sweet bundles, shining black skins and powdery dollops of mint green, not looking left. But the Puerto Ricans talk to each other. In muffled, joking Spanish, they throw home-town comments away from the … Continue reading