I live on the very edge of the hem of Melbourne’s hilly outskirts where I write essays, short stories and political commentary.

Or at least I did. The covid futility rolls on. What’s the point when there is barely any publishing industry left?

Like Rachel Carson, I think living with a sense of awe is a radical act. It’s hard in the end-of-capitalism fire sale but still it seeps in sideways.

Here’s stuff I’ve written, from online and in print.