Spotted in the back laneway near home... It’s been ages since I’ve written about anything “discarded” in my back lane. Quite frankly, there’s been nothing for ages. People don’t seem to have been throwing things out. And then on the way home tonight, I saw an amazing piece of “art”. I still don’t know what to make of it.
Aside from work, the big highlight of the day was going to see a friend who is in hospital. After surgery, he’s doing remarkably well, and is probably coming home from hospital a day earlier than expected.
After a couple of long days at work, I’m a little tired, so tonight I’ve just been at home watching a bit of television.
There’s not much on the agenda for the week, aside from helping my friend for a little while, and then going to see “High School Musical” on Thursday night.
I can’t believe it’s only a week until Christmas, and I can’t believe my neighbours would throw out a piece of religious art a week before Christmas…
Damien and I have been to Becasse Restaurant, when it was located in Surry Hills on several occasions together, with the most memorable probably being the Five Regions of France dinner which absolutely blew both of us away.
And then just over twelve months ago, Damien went to the Becasse Restaurant in Clarence Street, once again writing a guest entry, concluding Each course presented and tasted better than they sound, with the smoked haddock veloute and foie gras terrine my standout dishes..
We went to Becasse last night for my birthday and, once again, we really enjoyed ourselves, though deep in both our hearts was, perhaps a desire for the old days when Becasse was “our little secret”, before it became the Sydney Morning Herald’s “Restaurant Of The Year”. And unlike last time, our favourite Maitre’d, Georgia, was nowhere to be seen.
I guess what I like most about Becasse is their desire and ability to experiment a little. Hence, for me, it was great to start off the night with a dishes including the canape (puff pastry, tomato and goats cheese), the tomato/tea soup and the terrine of golden beetroot and blood orange with a salad of baby cress and Woodside goats curd cromesqui, where they genuinely sought to combine interesting and unexpected flavours.
A little further into the meal – we chose the degustation menu – there were probably fewer surprises. For the main, for example, we both chose the Wagyu Beef, with other selections including the pork belly with caramelised scallops and pea puree, with all of them being consistently good.
I had the pleasure of travelling to Wollongong to spend some time with Lukas Cubirka. Lukas was born with a hand difference and has since built a career as a prosthetist, using his own experience to empower others with limb loss and limb difference. The audio from his story will be a featured episode on The Limb Shift podcast, launching this October. While you wait for the full audio to drop, here is a glimpse into his story.
Lukas Cubirka’s journey is a story of adaptation, self-discovery, and professional purpose.
Born with limb difference due to foetal band syndrome, Lukas grew up with a “stump and claw” that defined his physical reality from day one. Yet, for much of his life, his internal narrative resisted the label of disability, creating a complex tension between his reality and his self-perception that would take decades to resolve.
The Early Years: Adaptation and Avoidance
Lukas’s physical development was shaped by two significant surgeries: a bone transplant from his fourth toe when he was one year old to create a thumb-like structure, and a subsequent “ray resection” to enhance his pincer grip.
Despite these medical interventions, Lukas spent his youth consciously aware of his difference but psychologically dismissive of it. He navigated life with a simple approach: a task was either possible or impossible. As he reflected on his experience with an occupational therapist later in life:
“I just determined if I can do it or I can’t do it, but it’s not ‘this is harder for me’ or ‘this is easier for me.’ It’s just I can or I can’t. There’s no grey area in between. It’s just like, yes or no”.
This mindset allowed him to compensate in various ways, often leading others to describe him as ambidextrous. He learned to write with his right stump and developed significant balance and strength on both sides of his body to function in a world designed for those with two hands.
Career Paths and Personal Reckoning
Lukas’s search for professional purpose was far from linear. Initially drawn to design and technology, he pursued a degree in industrial design. However, the transition from university to employment proved difficult. Facing a lack of paid opportunities and feeling disillusioned by societal expectations, Lukas retreated into a period of heavy partying and self-doubt.
After working full-time at Bunnings to save money, he embarked on travels through Europe, seeking a sense of self and life experience. During this time, he spent a year in Ericeira, Portugal, surfing and working odd jobs—delivering surfboards, working as a handyman, and even manufacturing oven-cleaning products.
The Intersection of Design and Prosthetics
Lukas’s eventual career in prosthetics was not a sudden epiphany but a gradual calling born from his own needs. During his industrial design studies, his major project focused on creating a low-cost, customisable prosthetic limb for children in Laos. Though conceptual, this project sparked an interest in the utility of specialised devices.
Seeking to improve his own capabilities in bodyboarding, he constructed his first prosthetic in a garage. He described the gritty, DIY nature of this process, which eventually led him to formalise his career path:
“I remember the hook part of the prosthetic. I needed to bend some metal, and I went out to the light pole out the front of the street, and I was just banging the metal against this light pole with a hammer… I had to glue lots of material together and stitch it together. I learned how to sew. I taught myself how to sew just to make my, make repairs on my prosthetic. Now I don’t have to do that”.
Finding Identity in Disability
Perhaps the most significant shift in Lukas’s life was his transition into accepting his disability in his mid-twenties. Early experiences with discrimination had left him struggling with depression and self-image. He recounted the painful reality of being dismissed by support systems when he was younger:
“The lady was like, ‘oh, okay, I’m just going to go speak to someone,’ left for about five, ten minutes, came back to the table, sat down just like, ‘I’m sorry, but you’re not disabled enough so you can’t get any help.’ And I was just like, ‘oh, okay, okay.’ And then throughout life, like I’ve had those experiences of stigma, discrimination, like, well, fuck, I am disabled, but I can’t get help. Like, this is fucking bullshit”.
It was only through his career and exposure to others with disabilities that Lukas began to embrace his identity. He realised that wearing a prosthetic was a tool that celebrated his differences rather than hiding them.
A Message for the Future
A day at the office, Lukeas working at SPAO Ottobock in Wollongong.
Today, Lukas thrives in Wollongong, surfing regularly and working to improve his functional capacity through physiotherapy and new, customisable prosthetics. He works at SPAO Ottobock. His advice to others with limb difference is rooted in empowerment and trial-and-error:
“Fail. Hurt yourself. Like cut yourself open with a prosthetic, then you know. Okay, that doesn’t work. Just try something else. Let’s do something else. Maybe different design, a different approach. Um, but yeah, just because there’s nothing or no product specifically out there to do what you want. Be creative”.
His journey from a young boy hiding his difference to a professional clinician shaping the future of prosthetics serves as an inspiring example of how accepting one’s limitations can lead to the freedom to overcome them.
Often when you visit Sculpture By The Sea it’s overly crowded. There’s often too many people competing for space with grumpy locals who want to go about their regular exercise along the wonderful coastal walk between Bondi and Tamarama. I’ve tried going super-early. I’ve also been there just before lunch when the crowds seem to be at their peak. But this time around, I chose late on a Sunday afternoon. The temperature was mild, the light a little more subdued, as were the crowds. These are some of my favourites from this year’s exhibition.
As it was my birthday yesterday, Sue bought us dinner at Bondi Trattoria. An awesome way to end the weekend.
“See you in six months”, my specialist said to me today after I attended the Amputee / Prosthetic Clinic at Sydney’s Sacred Heart Hospital.
I spent almost four months in hospital last year, commencing with emergency surgery to remove the bottom half of my right leg.
The situation was fairly dire, and I came awfully close to death / brain damage, and so the stay in hospital was lengthy.
After a couple of months of rehabilitation, I got my prosthetic leg in early September, and was able to leave hospital about 10 days later.
Though I sometimes wish my progress was faster / greater, the team at the hospital today (specialist, prosthetist, physiotherapist) were all very pleased with how things are going.
“You’re just showing off”, the specialist said to me as I walked into the room without my crutch.
I told them of the things I’ve achieved recent, and my plans for the next milestone: walking in the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras.
The next step after that will be securing a permanent prosthesis. The leg I have now is an interim one, and the next one will weigh less, and hopefully mean I’ll be able to get out and about more easily.
Thankfully, I’ve avoided some of the skin problems and pain problems often endured by amputees.
I’m mindful, of course, that it could all change tomorrow. I could suddenly find myself unable to put on my prosthetic leg, and therefore back in the wheelchair, unable to leave the house as easily as I can right now.
Having that affirmation from the team made me smile.
I also called in to say hello to the staff on the ward on Level 4 at Sacred Heart, and it was so great to visit them again after all their support.
I celebrated (by myself) by going to the nearby Beauchamp Hotel (now known as The Beecham) for lunch, and then a coffee around the corner. Both were significant places in my journey over the last seven months. The Beauchamp was where my nieces would regularly have meals and drinks, while they were in Sydney visiting me. And the last time I visited the coffee shop I was still in the wheelchair.
Prawn Linguine at The Beauchamp
I am incredibly thankful for the work of the staff at Sacred Heart, and to my friends, family and colleagues for all their support.
“Forty-three is one of those kinds of ‘nothing’ ages”, I told Damien over dinner the other night. 18, 21, 30, 40, 65 etc are all momentous birthdays in many ways. Even thirty-five is also quite a momentous one, as I think it’s probably the real marker between “youth” and “adulthood”.
And then you have odd number birthdays like 37 and 41 which have been celebrated in song. In her song, “The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan”, Marianne Faithfull sings about the woman who… “At the age of thirty-seven, she realised she’d never ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair. And in her song, “Delta Dawn”, Helen Reddy sang of the woman who “was forty-one and her daddy still called her ‘baby'”. I can’t find think of a single song where the age of forty-three is celebrated.
Still, I’m pretty happy with life at the moment and I had a really great birthday.
Unlike The Beresford, they haven’t spent millions on the toilets! Still, they’re clean and that’s all that matters.
I spent a fair day listening to music, watching a little bit of television, and surfing the net. I got a lot of really lovely messages from people far and wide through Facebook who wished me well, with one declaring she would listen to some ABBA today in recognition of my birthday. Another suggested a dose of “schlager” (Swedish pop) was just what the doctor would order. I didn’t need much convincing.
And then late this afternoon I met up with a group of friends (with Neil making a brief “guest appearance”) at the recently refurbished “Beresford Hotel”. You may recall, it’s the place with the really weird men’s toilets which certainly sparked a lot of interest among my friends. The hand dryers also sparked a lot of interest. I’m not sure if the developers had realised the most talked about part of their 30-40 million dollar renovation would be the bathroom.
But of course there’s a lot of interest in “The Beresford” as a re-opened “party” venue for Sydney’s inner-city crowd and the place was packed. “Oh my God, I’ve never seen so many poofs in one place before”, commented one friend as she looked at the courtyard area out the back.
Our group stayed inside where, and although it was quite noisy due to all the tiles, it was also air-conditioned. “They really should have spent some of the money on soundproofing” noted one friend, as we looked around at the fully-tiled walls. And while one friend noted it was “kinda like having a beer at ‘Museum Station’, another thought it was like sitting in one of those old-style public toilets.
When the noise got all a little too much we went looking for somewhere else to have a beer. “We’re like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds walking around a country town after closing hours”, I commented to a friend, as we wandered around the streets of Surry Hills and Darlinghurst. Upstairs at “The Cricketers Arms” was our salvation, though the contrast between the toilets there and those at “The Beresford” cannot be underestimated.
What was supposed to be a couple of quick beers late in the afternoon turned into dinner for four at one of my favourite little Thai restaurants “Thai Tha Poh”. And thus ended a really great, happy birthday.
Such beautifully presented tofu. Blue Wok is my local Thai where I’ll often pop in after work for take-away, or a for a brief meal of just a few entrees. Love it.
Blue Wok Tofu
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We’ve managed to get rid of a lot of furniture on the last month by the simple expedient of putting it on the footpath in Leichhardt. We have a lot of dog-walkers in our street, and every single thing has gone, even the old broken chair. But no religious art.
I think it would have defeated even you. There was a huge desk – so big that we’d had to take a door off to get it out of the house. There was a broken chair with stuffing showing. There was a broken office chair that regularly threw its users forward to the floor. Various pots and pans and plastic kitcheny things. But they’ve all gone.
We’ve managed to get rid of a lot of furniture on the last month by the simple expedient of putting it on the footpath in Leichhardt. We have a lot of dog-walkers in our street, and every single thing has gone, even the old broken chair. But no religious art.
The big question is, did you keep it?
She’s beautiful, I would’ve given her a home. Yes, I’m a soft touch. Good Catholic boy that you are, I hope you took her in.
MH – you should have said you were doing this. I’m a total bower bird when it comes to furniture on the street.
Cathy and Miss Andrea – despite what I’ve just said about being a bower bird, I resisted the urge.
I think it would have defeated even you. There was a huge desk – so big that we’d had to take a door off to get it out of the house. There was a broken chair with stuffing showing. There was a broken office chair that regularly threw its users forward to the floor. Various pots and pans and plastic kitcheny things. But they’ve all gone.
Did you say you had a broken office chair? :)