Imagination

  • Authentically Not Myself

    I am authentically myself when I am not at all myself, and it is magical, beautiful, wonderful. What do I mean by this? Well, I’m not sure. It’s a little too obscure to understand or explain, but I’m certain you’ve… Continue reading

  • Elf

    I just watched Lord of the rings, again; I’m certain I’ve missed my calling as an Elf. Twirling leaves, swaying, falling. Flowing gowns, floating on air. Softness. Romance. Light and trees. I’m certain I’ve missed my calling as an Elf.… Continue reading

  • Fairies

    Life is too short to dismiss the possibility of fairies. I’ve never seen one. And the imposter within me doesn’t even believe. But I’ll never stop looking. I’ll never stop pestering my children to look. And when we find such… Continue reading

  • Find Your Magic

    Go on. Find your magic. Continue reading

  • When I Grow Up

    When I grow up I am going to be a kid again. Continue reading

  • Butterfly Catcher

    I was born to be a catcher of butterflies. Pass me my net and I will show you the joy and the wonder that lay sleeping in your bones. Continue reading

  • Tonight

    On the sixth day of Christmas, I craved a feeling. A specific feeling, really. I craved a couch. And a book. And me. All of us rolled up together, where nothing and no one could find us. It’s not like I… Continue reading

  • Dear Santa

    Dear Santa, It’s the second day of Christmas and here I am writing to you! Surprise! I know. It’s been FOREVER. I’ll try not to leave it so long next time. I wonder if you’ll even get this little email… Continue reading

  • Alexis Wright: Boisbouvier Oration, Melbourne Writers Festival

    I’ve never read an Alexis Wright, book. Until she won the 2018 Stella prize, I’d never even heard her name. But I can’t stop thinking about the speech she gave at the Melbourne Writers Festival on Wednesday night, and I… Continue reading

  • Falling In Love By Lamplight

    I can’t remember the moment I fell in love with books. But I know it was by lamplight. A warm orange flush against the wall. The shadow of a Mum, and a girl, and a book, and a bed. A… Continue reading