Category: Memoir

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Don’t try this at home: from Duchamp’s urinal to Wim Delvoye’s Cloaca

This Daily Review essay on Duchamp’s urinal, contemporary art & buying artworks from friends was inspired by a new show of works by the talented artist Paloma White. I was sitting on a toilet when I looked up and saw it. There, hanging on the wall, was a Picasso. Just a black and white drawing, but an original Picasso. The couple whose inner-city apartment … Read More Don’t try this at home: from Duchamp’s urinal to Wim Delvoye’s Cloaca

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The Gifts of John Forbes (Meanjin)

Two decades ago my friend, the late great poet John Forbes, would leave poems behind for me when he visited Sydney. Now I’ve finally written a tribute to him, out now in the Summer issue of Meanjin. You can subscribe to Meanjin here.

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Izzard in Oz: Why I love mascara on a man

First published by The Hoopla, 22 January 2015 When I was 17 I kept kissing a boy who wore mascara. Whenever we saw each other at someone’s house or out a nightclub, we’d end up in a corner in a clinch and a kiss. It wasn’t just his long dark lashes I found appealing: there was his tall mohawk, and the ripped black jeans and sleeveless punk T-shirts he wore. … Read More Izzard in Oz: Why I love mascara on a man

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Remembering David Williams

An edited version of this story appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald, 29-30 November 2014 On World AIDS Day one year I stood on Oxford Street selling red ribbons for the Bobby Goldsmith Foundation. The crowd’s goodwill was palpable and the atmosphere almost festive. But now and then I’d stop to think about my uncle, David Williams. Like Bobby, he was one of the … Read More Remembering David Williams

Save to your heart drive

First published by the Sydney Morning Herald 23 August, 2014 Years ago, when I was a student and living in a share house in Melbourne, one of my flatmates, a law student and heroin addict, went on a bender (that’s what he called them). With a blood-filled syringe he wrote a message on our toilet walls and then he stuck a knife in the … Read More Save to your heart drive

This caffeinated life

This week I decided to enrol in a barista training course. Which, it turns out, is a very zeitgeisty thing to do, being as it is national coffee week. I’ll need to warn my future barista guru though: the last time I wielded a steam wand it didn’t end too well. It was 1990 and I was an undergraduate at Melbourne University. In the afternoons … Read More This caffeinated life

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