Bruny Island

we went away camping to Bruny this week for a couple of nights. years ago we once visited for similar trips with Amelia’s family when we were all still close. I have many precious memories on the almost empty beaches and bush walks I’ve trekked frequently throughout my story so far. I remember visiting for a similar camping trip this time two years ago, freshly shaken from returning home from my adventure. I was still waking up stunned to find myself not in the world I missed but the one I’d always known.

last night I saw Jan in my dreams - he’d moved into my complex in Sydney, and we were going to be studying together again. I woke up missing him. this still happens, even whilst I’ve done all I can to preserve and honour my memories of the world and precious time we shared with our friends there. I miss many things about our world. uncertainty as an acceptable state of being with my distance from the world of consequences. I need to choose where I’m going - what this next year means for me. it scares me and I often wish I could seek refuge from responsibility as I did in that shabby hotel I miss so much.

we sat by the fire last night which was nice. the stars were bright for a while. I remind myself that I’ll always share the same skies with everyone I’ve ever known. there are still beautiful things. <<

23

another year older today. I cooked for my family and friends who dropped by. I slept on the couch and hid from my phone. we played a board game and I was happily distracted for a while. I read messages from people I’ve known and miss, wondering where the others went. my mum reminds me to be thankful for the ones that stick around. I think about what I’d hoped to do with the year that’s been. I wonder if I’ll ever see things through to a point at which I’m proud. another year older today. <<

home

I made it home. it was all a little sad leaving, which I wasn’t expecting due to knowing I’ll be back in a month or so. I’ve been lucky to make such precious friends there - and I guess that as with my those I met in Lewes, I will only miss my new friends more in their absence.

yesterday marked six years since Louise’s death. we visited her spot at the cemetery after I landed, and I had a moment with her for the first time in months. in the calm and peace I still find with her I found myself remembering just how pivotal her sudden removal from my life was, and the long lasting impact her disappearing has had on the way I think and feel. I was very young - we all were. sometimes I forget that it’s more than a story, that it actually happened to us. it’s a little overwhelming.

I’ll settle back in here shortly I’m sure, though I’ve known since returning from Lewes that home will always feel different when one loves and longs for people and places across the oceans. my room is as I’ve left it, and from here I’ll strive to find peace in the midst of another year closing. I’m getting older every day. at least we’ve still got the cat. <<

two years

today marks two years since we left the study lodge and that world we called home behind. I remember my last glimpse of the room that had been our sanctuary, the tears shed into the shoulders of the friends I still miss every day, the clouds.

I lack the words to articulate my confusion. sometimes it still feels present tense, despite the distance. the world still exists in dreams and memories, though I’ll always wake and be further from it all with each passing day. I miss my friends and the home we shared, and I think I will forever. <<

a hidden lane somewhere

lots of cages hanging for no reason. all for show without much purpose. at least they look nice. <<

December

this time of year is strange for me. in a matter of days there’ll be two whole years between me and that world. two years since hugging the family I found there, the stories and pass times we shared in the sanctuary we found in our sleepy bonfire town. six years since Lou’s passing. another birthday to dread, another year ends. time’s ruthlessness personified in a string of anniversaries lurking at the end of each calendar I’ll find in my Christmas stocking every 25th of December.

I did little of what I hoped I might, and I wish these seasons could slow down. it’s all a little too fast. <<

trains

my thoughts don’t seem to do much for me or anyone else these days. I feel as though I’m lacking substance, and have been for years now. like a shell maybe. I get lost in the vagueness of the paths my mind follows. I hope I’ll find the words to write about this soon. <<

lavender

I wrote today for the first time in months. it was spontaneous: a group of us in the unit 2 lounge. I’d been complaining about writer’s block. Jenae suggested we all write to a prompt. we struggled to decide on one, and ended up settling for the lavender branch on the mantle beside Cara’s scented candles and a vase of paper cranes. it’s only a little thing, but I wrote today, and because of this I feel a little more like me, as though being comfortable with myself is something that might someday be possible.

extract from me my goodness

there’s so much you can break

of everything upon the shelf

I’m what you chose to take

the softness of my scent seduces

from far across the room until

the thought of leaving here is useless

and I’m still on the windowsill

and I will try to do my part

instilling peace til your smile starts

to fog the storms clouding around

the thoughts in which you sometimes drown

and though to you I’m little more

than twigs you don’t quite know what for

perhaps I’m left here for a reason

admiring clouds and passing seasons

losing scent and sense with time

at least right now you’re breathing fine.
<<

pavement gazing

finding thinking tricky. I go for walks to help. there’s lots to see.

schoolwork has nearly finished. it will be summer break in no time, meaning anniversaries and birthdays and another year older. I’m never quite ready for this time.

the rain is very soft tonight. my pillow is against the window, so I hear the gentle sounds and sometimes my thoughts are calm. I forget about what worries me, the things that make me mad, everything I wish I could change in my funny little life.

I haven’t written a poem in two months. sometimes I worry that I might have lost the capacity to be creative. it’s not a nice thought, and I lack any evidence to suggest otherwise. I’m trying to source inspiration, I know creating helps - it always has. sometimes it feels pathetic. I’ll wake tomorrow and greet the day without expectation, however hopeful for peace and purpose. <<

bonfire night

November 5th is bonfire night, the biggest celebration of the year in Lewes. special memories. two years ago, we were all stunned by the procession of costumed societies down high street, torch lit and preparing sombrely for the monstrous fires they’d soon be starting all over our sleepy town. a special night I still think of often. Fieke and Lexi are there now, back in that world. I hope they manage okay being there alone, I don’t know how I’d feel in their shoes - though I do envy their ability to walk down the same lanes I can only see now in old photos and dreams. I wish I was with them. that world is so impossibly far from me now.

Lewes, I hope you have a lovely Guy Fawkes night. I’ll be thinking of and missing you a little extra tonight. all my love <<

timespan

I’ve been living here longer than I lived in Lewes, and once again I’m left feeling as though time will never make sense to me. it’s all so confusing and I don’t really know what to think anymore. Fieke’s going back this week for Bonfire Night. the world seems so far from me, but she’s right on its border as I type. I hope she’ll be okay. I know there’s lots of ghosts. <<

November

I didn’t write last month. not a single day of creativity. I’ve tried to focus and string together some sense out of the thoughts when they drift through. perhaps I’m jinxing myself. it’s a little disheartening when the escape doesn’t work out. uninspired and still lost. somedays I wish I made different choices. why did I decide to take this oath? I wish more sense could be made of the mind with which I live. <<

changing batteries

where does all the time go? I wish there were answers and a clear path for me to follow back to something I can be proud of. <<

two months

in two months I’ll be 23, and I really don’t want to. time doesn’t give me a choice here - I’m born and I’m bound to the unwritten contract; aging until I’m gone. I wonder why it pains me so.

I lack the words to articulate my feelings here, as seems to be the case with what I think of most things at the moment. forever slipping in and out of a capacity to be and act in ways I understand. <<

vagueness

I’ve been missing it all a little more lately. the clouds here aren’t as nice as back home or Lewes. time is moving very fast still. 

everything feels very vague, and I fear the vagueness is blurring my capacity to think and act. somedays I feel as though I’d look at the ceiling all day if I could. I’m not quite sure why, and my apathy towards the vagueness only seems to concern me when I put this all into words.

I’ve been running for a long time. I would really like to pause for breath. <<

October 13th, 2019

a sad day. the tears are still very clear in my memories, though it’s been so long. I remember walking in the rain through the sleepy Sunday morning, Durham was as misty as me. words didn’t really make a difference - and at least I can tell myself I tried to use them. had things unfolded differently, perhaps my time in that world might have been different. perhaps the sadness was key to me seeking refuge in the family I’d found in the dusty hotel I still miss. I can’t regret trying, but I still wonder why things went the way they did. I think about it all less as time passes, but I doubt I’ll ever forget how it felt at the time. I hope Durham’s happier now. <<

a cat I saw on Sunday morning

I’m struggling with my use of words at the moment. the visual is easier and less confusing for me right now. the cat was very sweet.

I doubt my capacity to satisfy the demands I face. though I swear there have been far greater challenges, simple things are difficult for me now. I’m sure this will pass as all feelings do. words mean a lot to me, and feeling capable of using them effectively is important. I’ll try not to bear myself up in the mean time. <<

film

chaotic mind at the moment. moving through one day at a time, reminding myself how lucky to be where I am and in such good company. Jeff and Cara had some of their film developed. precious photos.

making this place home slowly. Millie sent a care package with maps and other cutouts for my wall. it’s feeling less empty now, though I still miss her dearly. counting every blessing that comes my way. <<

October

I can’t quite keep up with this calendar. we’re here already and it doesn’t seem fair at all. <<

cats in the window

I wonder if they wish they knew me too. <<

revelation

each street I pass every day is a place of profound nostalgia for somebody. <<

September 21st

the date I first arrived in Lewes: I was petrified and totally oblivious to just how transformative my short life in that dusty hotel would be. the characters are still missed every day. I think of them now and it feels cruel to think that so much time has passed since our last movie night, Tesco mission or trip to Lansdowne. the world isn’t ours anymore, but I still glimpse it in photos and memories. it’s cherished.

the date or Lou’s birthday. I remember her 19th, the first after her accident. walking to the bus to school, I couldn’t stop crying. but the clouds were gorgeous from the bus stop, and the grief is a friend now. I keep her close every day with my crane before bed.

the date of Eliu’s birthday. I met her the next day - she moved into the study lodge a day late. she looked out for me the way family would. I owe her the world for the love and care she showed me, and like the rest of the family I found there, I miss her dearly every day.

I grieve for different reasons today. I notice the absence of these friends and that world, on the birthday of the first person to show me what loss can feel like. I’m reminded of the fullness of that world and the people that filled it. I remember her smile and the way she made me laugh without even trying.

the study lodge is still there, another generation oblivious to whatever the following months will bring. room 53 is now home to someone else. they’ll never know what the place meant to us, that I still think of it every day. but I hope it treats them well. <<

two years tomorrow

two years tomorrow since my first steps in Lewes. it feels unfair, though I shouldn’t complain. at a loss. that world still exists for me despite the time and distance. I wish it didn’t feel so far. <<

shower head

the path between me and that time has grown so long so quickly. two years in a matter of days, vivid as today in memories that now seem so impossibly out of reach. I never locked my door; it led to not my room, but a home I shared with strangers I loved as family. the shower head cries softly all night long. with little between it and the pillows on which I sleep, it scores my dreams and perpetual confusions. 

and I don’t know if this is where I should be heading, and it’s all a little scary. I forget what I’ll learn again soon, only to prolong forgetting it all again. I miss and I miss and rejoice and complain. <<

strepsils

the days fly. I’m doing a lot of the same things, but the lockdown gives me an excuse. I know I’m lucky to be living with friends, who continue to give me new reasons to smile and laugh. but I do miss home, and many of the places I’ve not seen in years now.

it’s nearly two years since I first arrived in Lewes, and despite my new life and the days I’m slipping through, I’m still holding on. sometimes Fieke or Nash or Joel will message through a photo from that world, or a phrase we might have once shared. it’s comforting to know I’m not the only one who feels as though part of their heart is still tied to the silly little life we had there.

I don’t know where I’m going but I want to be doing more with my mind and my heart. the days exhaust me and still I have little to show for that I’m proud of. trying to sleep enough to think well and be present. trying to be good. <<

strepsils

the days fly. I’m doing a lot of the same things, but the lockdown gives me an excuse. I know I’m lucky to be living with friends, who continue to give me new reasons to smile and laugh. but I do miss home, and many of the places I’ve not seen in years now.

it’s nearly two years since I first arrived in Lewes, and despite my new life and the days I’m slipping through, I’m still holding on. sometimes Fieke or Nash or Joel will message through a photo from that world, or a phrase we might have once shared. it’s comforting to know I’m not the only one who feels as though part of their heart is still tied to the silly little life we had there.

I don’t know where I’m going but I want to be doing more with my mind and my heart. the days exhaust me and still I have little to show for that I’m proud of. trying to sleep enough to think well and be present. trying to be good. <<

my new room

from inside, with the disco lights on. this was a nice night, and I felt at home. <<

already

a month into this new life already. I don’t know where the time flies, but I know I should be more grateful for the good things it continues to bring. I should be doing more of what I love, and I promise I’ll try. at least I’m safe and hiding away in good company.

nearly two years since Lewes now. the thought and the feelings it conjures are hard to describe. time makes no more sense now than it did the day I left. living in the present again is nice, though my awareness of my growing distance from where I’ve been never truly fades. I learn to live in the limbo. it’s okay. <<

winter

three minutes til it’s come and gone again. another season slipped; what will the next one bring? I hope I’ll still remember things that made me smile today. <<

between stucco and miracle

on the walk home from the Asian grocer this afternoon.

they smelt wonderful. <<

alpenglow, s. carey

it’s a little scary how quickly I’ve slipped between worlds. I don’t quite know if I’ll ever come to terms with the passing of days into months. two years in a heartbeat and a catalogue of faces and laughs I still miss. a constantly revolving cast of characters, with all but a handful slipping in and out with the seasons. I’ll try to keep score and smile in the face of it all. <<

rain

my first storm in my new home. I’ll fall asleep thinking of England. I can think of worse ways to close the day.

lavender

a new friend from across the quad gave me some lavender for my room. it reminds me of home.

I’m wearing my mood ring again, and trying keep Sunday’s study free. it’s warm here, and I doubt I’ll be ready for the heat in summer. going gently where I can, knowing how lucky I am. <<

walking to the supermarket

the most wonderful time of the day. <<

cogs

the cogs are turning and I’m back in a space that demands productivity. though my mind is exhausted, I remind myself how lucky I am to be meeting new people and finding friends in their smiles. this new world is pretty, and I’m finding different joys to treasure in the midst of madness.

this is my new campus, where I’ll be studying if the lockdowns end. it looks like a castle and reminds me of England.

this is a lane off the street where I live. I liked the colours of the end of the day through the tree branches.

this is a view from the quad of my new home. my side doesn’t catch the sun - but it’s okay, there’s a deck on the roof with a hammoc and chairs. it’s a special place, this hidden society of plants and procrastinators. I’m learning to feel at home here, and the new friends are helping.

trying to stay on top of things and present. the missing continues, though it always has. one day at a time. <<

Sunday

I think it’s slowly becoming home. there are some really kind people here, and though it’s taking time, I realise how lucky I am to be in this position. I briefly caught the sun today. reasons to smile in different places. Sundays are very precious.

Italy

two years ago I was with family in Rauscedo. it feels like it might have been a couple of months ago in some alternate reality. there’s so much I miss, and though I know time passes as it should, I still struggle to accept it all as fair.

adjusting to this new world will take time. these people are already so familiar with life here, and perhaps with time I’ll be joining them in feeling truly at home. I think of home, of Italy and Lewes, and I’m not quite sure what I’m doing or where it is I’m going. trying to move gently and be kind, to myself and those around me. one day at a time. <<

learn more

classes start tomorrow (today, it’s a little late). I’m slowly feeling more at home here - and I count myself lucky to have found this oasis amidst the madness of this new world I’ve flown into. the thought of committing to learning again - starting from scratch - is a little overwhelming. I’m lucky to have faith vested in me from all over, and I’ll keep trying to believe in myself in the same way they do.

we’ve been playing the same card game I’d always lose at Millie’s sharehouse, but it has a different name here. it rained on my walk to the supermarket this afternoon, and I enjoyed the quiet laziness of the sounds. the glumness is beautiful sometimes.

I’m starting the learning again. I’ll try to be more present this time, though I’m still missing so much and continue to overwhelm myself. ‘one day at a time’, I promise I’ll try. at least in the midst of it all I’m making myself a new home. <<

in transit

the mattress is ‘in transit’. I hope it comes soon. I’ve been decorating the new room slowly, and I’m excited to move in. lovely people here. I’m reminded a lot of friends I miss from the last time I sought out a new home. unsure of where this is all going, though I know I’m lucky, and I promise I’ll be grateful today and tomorrow. <<

another place

my mattress isn’t here yet but there’s people, and lots of them are lovely. the place makes me miss Lewes, though it’s my new home. I’ll take every day as a gift. <<

gate 4 is open for boarding

there’s less than ten of us on this plane. Mum did a lot of crying, for which I feel bad, but I’ve promised her I’ll stay safe and see her as soon as I can. it’s all wrapping up, without really finishing - twisting into the next chapter very quickly in the end. I don’t know where the time went? my bags were 1.2kg over, but the lady didn’t mind. as if the adventure was two years ago. aeroplane mode on now. talk soon. << 

tomorrow

I’ve been scrolling a lot these past few days. there’s something about the immediacy of the distraction the act of aimless scrolling offers from real life. in my current circumstances, I’m due to face a significant life change: this time tomorrow I’ll have migrated from my childhood home. weeks of being asked by friends and coworkers ‘how do you feel about it?’ have flown. I’ve been answering with embarrassment, saying (with a fear of sounding pretentious) that I’ve been too busy to know how to feel or what to think about the whole thing.

it’s nearly two years to the day since I left home for the adventure. those stories and characters frequent my dreams still, and skate the surface of my mind and screen often. Nash called from Brooklyn the other day after having been on his first run in his new neighbourhood. Fieke’s sending me photos from her adventures through Northern Italy. Simon re downloaded WhatsApp, and I’ve just heard from him for the first time in over a year. ‘saudade’ - the narrative compilation of my memories and dreams from that time - is being read by some of the people I trust. it doesn’t feel like two years, though in leaving again, it also feels as though it all might have happened in another reality or life altogether.

I’m left daunted by the pages before me. aware of how lucky I am and have been to have had the precious experiences and opportunities that continue to come my way, I try to face tomorrow with courage. I don’t know what the next chapter is going to bring, though I hope I’m writing the first stanza well. <<

booked

I booked my flight today. just over a week left of this world for me. it’s all a little overwhelming, and though it’s been on the horizon for forever, I feel unprepared. the familiar will vanish so quickly, and though this should be (and is still) exciting, a pause button would be nice.

one day at a time - I still try, though it’s tricky with how quickly each day slips and says goodbye. going as gently as I can. <<

two weeks

the change is on its way. I’m finishing up at work, and looking at flights now. I’ve been ready for the move in my head, though it’s always been something far off, an idea that, for the most part, has seemed as though it might always be dangling out of my reach. though I’m excited for a return to life away from the familiar, all of a sudden it feels as though everything’s moving awfully fast.

I called Fieke last night. we spoke about our lives now compared to our shared lives in Lewes: the pastimes and places and people we still miss. despite the distance and time between us, I count myself lucky to still have such a dear friend to share my thoughts with. I think she’s doing well, and I’m very proud of her regardless.

if all goes to plan I’ll have left the island in two weeks time. the days will disappear and no doubt I’ll run out of time to do everything I should before I leave. in the midst of the turning of cogs and time I try to stop to breathe and feel the moments and the emotions they bring. hoping for rain sometime soon. settling for wind against my window at night. <<

cold air

some kind of writer’s block. I’ve come to realise since leaving school that I am somewhat dependent on creating and producing for my own sanity. a great deal of my self worth is projected upon the quality and quantity of what I create or produce with my time and emotions. 

very little is being made at this point in time. I worry about lacking value in light of not producing anything substantial. trying to rationalise with this strange part of my mind is difficult, though I keep trying. this break has not been chosen by me, though I tell myself I shouldn’t resist it with such frustration. it’s okay to stop. I remind myself I don’t always need to have something to say.

cold mornings - icy. the drive to the markets before sunrise was scary, thick ice on the bends. I drove slowly and though the sun was bright throughout the day, the chill remained. it’s summer in Lewes, as it is in New York, where Nash is finding his feet as I type these words. the air I’m breathing is far colder than his. a funny thought. <<

Pfizer #1

I received my first jab of the vaccine. this seemed to excite me more than most things have in a long time, and I’m still trying to figure out why. it’s not as though the jab truly guarantees my freedom from any binds. perhaps, for whatever reason, I see the occasion as a tangible step in the path that will, I pray, someday take me to wherever it is I’m meant to be. it’s been a long time of doing very little living, and though I’m trying to do more and find myself again, I know it will take time. I’ve spent 18 months doing a lot of thinking. some days I feel as though the adventure was no more than a dream. what does the jab have to do with all of this? I don’t really know, but it’s a step in the right direction.

every new day brings me closer to where I’m meant to be. I mightn’t truly believe this, but I’ll try to have faith in the idea of being as I should right now. <<

June

another half year older. I wish I knew where that time went. despite living more, it still feels as though I’m walking blind.

active involvement in my own life has, in the past three or so months, become more frequent. it’s for the best, though I fear losing touch with what was (and remains) important to me in my pause. daunted to see where this goes, hoping for the best. one foot in front of the other. <<

blur

I’m unfocused, and though I’m okay, it’s tricky. the time continues to fly, and I’m drawn back to thinking of the pages passing too quickly. I remember that I’m growing older with every passing moment, and that I’m spending less time actively creating or treating this passing time as precious. I try not to despise myself for this lack of focus. learning has been done, and I’m gentler than I once was with myself. there’s still more work to do, and I want to be doing more for this world. looking for purpose, though I’m almost certain at this point that the journey never truly ends.

missing Lewes a lot these days, though it feels further as the months fly. I wonder what they’re all doing and if they miss it too. letting go for good isn’t something I want to do, though I’m almost certain I’m meant to. <<

Luca

Isaiah’s come home. it’s nice to be with him, I only realise how much I’ve missed his presence when it’s finally something I can enjoy again and not just wait for. we watched the new Pixar movie - about Italy and a boy who doesn’t fit in. it made me miss my friends and the adventure a lot. I really hope I can do it all again someday.

cogs are turning for the next chapter, and I’m going to have to start using my brain to be present again. I’m grateful for the chances I have, and just pray I’m moving where and how I need to right now. <<

water

I can overwhelm myself by just looking out into the water. it’s strange to think that my world shares the same mass of sea as every other coastline. something that connects every corner of the planet to a degree. despite the distance there’s a flow and exchange between where I am now and every other place I’ve seen. there’s comfort to be found in these thoughts. <<

mornings

there are still beautiful things <<

winter

fifteen minutes into winter. another season passes: what might this next one mean?

I’m hoping to doubt myself less. I’ll learn how to work hard and be again, as I’ve done before. the questions keep coming back, but that’s okay. one day at a time, with deep breaths and a heart that still beats. << x

choices

big decisions to be made. it feels as though there’s not enough time for it all. trying to use my mind and heart; to listen to them and people I trust. one day at a time is hard when the whole world’s bound to change so soon. << 

moving quickly

the time is really passing now. I dreamt of Lewes the other night, though it was different, and I felt like a stranger to the place. I wake up feeling further from that time and world, but I remind myself it all still happened, and nothing can change that. it should be less difficult now I know so much of it is tied to words in my stories, though I still wish it wasn’t so far out of reach.

the times are changing now. decisions to be made. I wish I could be back, if even just for a night in 53 with my friends. I miss them and our world still every day. reminding myself I’m lucky to have something so special to miss, I look for the good things in my now. the blessings are all around. I try to embrace them without letting go.

unsure of where this is all going, and if I even want to know. one day at a time. << x

the new playground

I finished proofing the story I wrote. it’s quite long, and though it took a great deal of time and tears, there’s a sense of relief in knowing these memories and dreams have now been tied to words. though I know nothing can bring me truly closer to the places and people I miss, it feels as though written words might at least make them less fleeting. 

it’s a strange inbetween at the moment. I doubt there’s much that can be done to help me realise where I’m meant to be. in the midst of the blurry path that lays before me I strive to count the blessings I still cherish. it helps make this all feel a little more important. I’m lucky, and I remind myself whenever I doubt it. one day I really hope to get over myself. <<

clouds

I doubt I’ll ever understand so much of what keeps me up at night. but the clouds keep moving, and sometimes they’re enough for me. <<

proofreading

I finished proofreading today. this means my story is pretty much finished. it’s a strange feeling to be at this point, after months of writing and missing that world. I’m unsure where I’ll be led next, but it’s nice knowing the memories are tied to something more than just my own missing now. perhaps with the words I’ve given them life they’ll last at least a little longer. << x

galleries

returning to galleries has been special. on the big adventure they became sanctuaries for me in the midst of my running from or trying to make sense of things I didn’t quite understand. revisiting this pastime on which I leant so much for distraction and escape has reminded me once more of the importance of worlds beyond the real one in which I live.

today I ran into a painting I’ve known since before I could speak - a print of which hangs in the blue room of my grandparents’ home, in which I’ve set many times. I thought of my brothers and home when I saw it, a moment that felt somewhat surreal for reasons I don’t quite understand.

I’m heading home now - back to the world I know. <<

Lucy

in Sydney I also spent time with Lucy. having known her friendship for so long, I feel very lucky to call her one of the important people in my life. across the oceans there are people I love all over: remembering this, I tell myself to be grateful for all I’ve ever had and known. what has been can never be taken away from me. << 

Isaiah

I visited the little guy in Canberra. I saw him perform in his show, met his friends and cast mates, and even cooked our favourite Thai dish with him. we ate froot loops and watched silly videos. being in his world and seeing him navigate so much with such confidence and ease made me proud and miss him more than I do already.

I also caught up with Fran, who I’ve missed for a very long time. the stay in Canberra was short but felt as though it needed to happen. it felt good to be on the move again. <<