“We have cronuts”, the guys at my local coffee shop excitedly told me this morning. Of course I had to try one of them. Twelve hours later, it was still a mistake.
Cronut is the brand name of a croissant-doughnut pastry sold by Dominique Ansel Bakery in New York City, conceived by chef Dominique Ansel. The pastry is made by frying a laminated dough in grape seed oil, which is then sugared, filled, and glazed. The name is a registered trademark of Ansel’s bakery.The Boston Globe described the Cronut as a “food portmanteau”.In December of 2013, TIME Magazine named Ansel’s pastry as one of the “25 Best Inventions” of 2013.
A few weeks ago, you may recall, I wrote about the Tree Removal Order posted on a number of older trees in my leafy inner city street. Although the reasons for the removal were clear, I was nonetheless sad to read the order. At the time, I wrote…
I’m lucky enough to live in a street with some beautiful big, and admittedly, old trees. They’re a pain in the arse during autumn and winter when they lose their leaves. But in summer, they come to life, and make the street in which I live a truly beautiful place to be. They also provide shade for the nearby children’s playground. And I guess that’s where the concern comes from – that one day they’ll fall over and cause injury.
On a “personal level”, I’ve “lived” with those trees for almost the entire time I’ve been in Sydney, which is now 17 years. I swear, as a boy from the bush, it’s the trees that have kept me “sane” through all these years. Whenever I’ve felt a little stressed, all I’ve needed to do was walk down the stairs, cross the road, and sit in the park. The trees have kept me “grounded”, you might say.
Anyway, this morning I woke to the sound of chain-saws. The removal had begun.
no images were found
Half-jokingly, I declared on Facebook this morning I was…
Feeling tempted to chain myself to one of the three beautiful old trees in my street being removed today.
In response, a friend posted
It would be in keeping with your northern NSW roots if you did James – Terania Creek being the birthplace of modern environmental activism. I’ll keep an eye out for you on ACA tonight!
By the time I arrived home tonight – it was dark, and so I couldn’t see all that well – one of the trees had begun to resemble an Easter Island statue.
Fifty-three is such a “meh” birthday, and yet it was actually quite as good one, with a few highlights.
Yesterday, I woke early and went out in search of an early morning “adventure”. I left the house before 6.00am, and wandered in the direction of Kings Cross. I figured an early morning breakfast in The Cross might be a great way to start the day. I caught the train the The Cross, only to discover virtually none of the cafes were open before 7.00.
On spec, I caught the 311 bus, and got off in Darlinghurst where I had breakfast at The Rusty Rabbit.
I chose the muesli (with kiwi fruit, passionfruit and other delights) which was awesome. You know how sometimes you have a meal and go “wow”? Well, that’s what happened. The muesli was a tasty combination, and was well presented. What surprised me most at the cafe was the number of parents having breakfast with their private school daughters. Heaps of them. For all of the reasons canvassed previously in popular culture, I laughed out loud when I heard a twelve year old order smashed avocado.
I was also surprised at the number of people at work who acknowledged my birthday, since I’m not “friends” with that many people at work on Facebook. We have Twitter connections, but I’ve largely kept my Facebook connections to friends and family. Quite a few people at work acknowledged my birthday, and I was presented with a personal chocolate cake, which was awesome.
With my birthday prominent in mind, I took an “early mark” from work, and came home. The “swot” in me saw me continue to deal with some work matters into the early evening, ahead of going to my local pub, and winning a meat tray. Awesome birthday!!!
Crown Hotel Meat Tray
After a good sleep in, I ventured to a book signing by Rachel Khoo. The celebrity chef has moved to Sweden (she married a Swede) and has written a book about well-known (and not-so) Swedish recipes. It’s a really good book, venturing well beyond (though acknowledging) meatballs and cinnamon buns.
Rachel Khoo
Little Swedish Kitchen
I’m catching up with a friend for lunch and a movie tomorrow.
And so there you have it: how I celebrated my birthday.
My other big early morning adventure this week was a trip to Circular Quay.
When it came time to fly back to Sydney, I was a little nervous. I had been charged for excess baggage on the way to Lismore, and I didn’t want to incur a similar charge on the way back.
I keep clothes and some other personal items at home in Lismore, so I only ever take the minimum carry-on of 7kg when flying home. However, I was a little cavalier in my packing this time around, and when I was approached in the queue, my bag weighed in at close to 9kg. I was forced to pay an extra $65.
I left a few of the items I had taken with me to Lismore at home, but even so, my bag still weighed 8kg. Carrying two laptops (one personal, one work) seemed to be the biggest issue.
So I packed the jacket I was planning to wear, with my Bluetooth speaker and computer cables in the pockets. I was still convinced that they were going to approach me in the queue again, but thankfully the plane was running late and was full, so there was little time to worry about what I was carrying.
It was lovely at the airport to run into some people who were also heading to Sydney for an exhibition at the NSW Parliament of 100 photographs taken in the weeks after last year’s Lismore floods.
In many country towns, there is no real sense of “six degrees of separation”; it’s generally only one degree of separation.
In chatting with one couple at the airport, we established that they were likely living in a house where one of my cousins lived back in the 70s. We also established that someone we mutually knew had recently started a new job, replacing someone who had recently moved to Sydney, and who was now working with my friend (also from Lismore) who was coming with me to the exhibition opening.
These country town conversations are never about what you do for a living, or where you went to school, they’re about where you’re from and who you know. “You’re from such and such town or street? Do you know such and such?” And quite often you do.
I arrived in Sydney safely and on time, and I was happy to have avoided another excess baggage charge. I was also glad to have had the opportunity to catch up with some old friends and make some new ones. It’s always nice to come home.
Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of speaking with Shona Muckert for The Limb Shift, my podcast dedicated to the lived experience of limb loss and limb difference. We ended up talking for much longer than planned. “I love to chat,” she joked, and I’m so glad we did.
I’m really looking forward to sharing our full discussion later this year, once the podcast officially debuts on Apple, Spotify, and YouTube during October, co-inciding with Amputee Awareness Week in Australia. In the meantime, I wanted to share a glimpse into Shona’s journey and some of the heartfelt wisdom she shared with me.
For Shona Muckert, life at 25 was physically active, and full of adventure. She was “living the dream” in France, working and skiing in the Alps after a stint in Edinburgh, enjoying what she describes as “the time of my life on the ski fields”. But when her beloved granddad grew terminally ill back in Australia, she made the choice to cut her season two weeks short.
“I felt like I wanted to be there, you know, not just for my grandparents, but for my family.”
Just weeks after returning home to be with her family, disaster struck on a road near Murgon, a small town in Queensland. Driving home at night after dropping off a friend, the back wheels of her vehicle caught loose gravel around a bend, sending the car rolling four or five times into a paddock.
Trapped in the wreckage overnight for nearly twelve hours before being spotted by a passerby, Shona suffered severe crush injuries. When she finally reached the hospital and awoke in the ICU, a nurse broke the catastrophic news: both of her legs had to be amputated—her right below the knee, and her left high above the knee. At the time, doctors delivered a grim outlook, warning her, “you probably will never walk again”.
Shona’s spirit kicked in. During her early recovery in the burns ward, when a deflating hospital bed left her stranded without support, she demanded a change. The nurse unit manager gave her a dose of “tough love,” telling her: “Right, if we’re going to change this, then you need to learn to transfer and you need to learn toget up out of that bed.” Shona embraced the challenge.
“I’m clearly very stubborn and pig-headed… I said, ‘Righty o, let’s go with this'”.
Determined not to let her life grind to a halt, Shona returned to work and began driving again just two months after her accident. “I think it was the independence for me,” she explains. “I just wanted to be independent again… I just wasn’t prepared to let it keep me down”.
The internal adjustment was a slow process. “It took three years to sort of fully accept my disabled life,” Shona shares. She wrestled with PTSD, phantom pain, deep thoughts, and public stares, often crying herself to sleep while hiding her struggle from her family. To rebuild her identity, she committed to eight years of counselling with a therapist to navigate grief, relationships, and motherhood.
A pivotal turning point arrived ten years post-accident when Shona discovered Osseointegration—a revolutionary surgery where a titanium implant is inserted directly into the bone. Supported by a massive community fundraising effort in her hometown, she underwent the procedure with surgeon Dr Munjed Al Muderis.
Learning to walk again on a high-tech Genium robotic knee was an intense, joyous rehabilitation process. During two weeks at Eden Rehab, Shona found a supportive community and newfound hope.
“I was in a totally different headspace and oh my gosh, I just laughed. I laughed all the time. Like, I remember saying to someone, ‘I want to stay here longer. This is so much fun.'”
When she cleared a physical obstacle in the gym for the first time, “the whole gym erupted into yahooing and clapping… it was just the best feeling because, you know, they were just all so supportive and it was just fun”.
Beyond her physical rehabilitation, Shona found an outlet in sport, which she credits for keeping her going through her darkest times. After taking up wheelchair basketball and wheelchair tennis, she discovered outrigger canoeing—a passion she has pursued for over 14 years. Her dedication culminated in elite success at the 2016 World Sprint Titles, where she competed as both a V1 paddler and part of an OC6 crew, securing five gold medals.
She has since evolved from a paddler to a steerer, describing the water as a place where she can experience beauty and freedom. Her involvement in the sport has become a way to pay it forward:
“I’ve introduced people to outrigging… it’s just a beautiful sport with lots of different age brackets”.
Out on the water, Shona Muckert
Shona has also gathered profound life lessons that she hopes will guide others navigating the aftermath of life-altering injuries, like amputation. Central to her advice is the importance of emotional honesty; she strongly urges people to grant themselves grace, noting,
“Allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling in the moment and know that there’s no right or wrong way to feel or act, or know what’s right or what’s wrong”. This emotional work, she explains, is inseparable from the work of building a new life.
She also emphasizes the power of language in shaping how one is perceived and how one perceives oneself. Rather than minimizing her contributions, she has learned to assert her value: “I don’t say I’m just an admin officer. I say I’m an admin officer… because my job is just as important as everybody else’s jobs”.
This extends to her interactions with the public. When faced with the curiosity of children, Shona refuses to deflect. Instead, she chooses transparency:
“I now try to think the only way that these kids are going to learn how to understand and treat people with disabilities… is to actually speak to them and say, ‘Hey, this is what’s happened’… I try to have that positive sort of spin on it now where I’m hoping I’m educating the next generation”.
Shona with her son, Quinn
Ultimately, for Shona, the journey is about cultivating true community and belonging. By surrounding herself with supportive friends and sports teammates who see her simply as Shona, she has found the peace she once sought.
“A lot of my friends, they don’t see me as someone who’s in a wheelchair,” she says warmly. “They see me as Shona, and half the time they forget about the wheelchair”.
Today, more than two decades after her accident, Shona leads a full life, balancing her work at Caloundra Hospital with her responsibilities as a mother to her son, Quinn. She views her experience through a lens of profound gratitude and humour.
“I definitely think I feel that everything in life happens for a reason. Sometimes I haven’t quite worked out what those reasons are. I tell people that I’m still here because I have lots of people to annoy… I don’t need anything grand or fancy… I just love doing what I’m doing.”
For now, she finds joy in the simple things: walking her dog, Millie, paddling on the water, and continuing to navigate her “disabled life” with the same stubborn, humorous, and resilient spirit that has carried her for over two decades.
Art After Hours at Art Gallery of NSW. I had another “night on the arts” last night, attending Art After Hours at the Art Gallery of NSW with my friend Kate. I think Art After Hours is such a great idea, as so many people I know really only have time on weekends to visit the AGNSW. And so in opening up the gallery until nine o’clock on a Wednesday night, usually with talks, a film, live music, and a glass or two and a meal downstairs, you suddenly find yourself with something new and interesting to do on a weeknight.
We were there last night for a talk hosted by Linda Jaivin with three Chinese born artists whose work featured in this year’s Archibald Prize.
There were several common themes to the experiences of the three artists, despite coming from different backgrounds and from different age groups.
* All three spoke about the classical training in Western artistic traditions they had received either in China (or in Australia) which had influenced their skills in portraiture.
* All three spoke about the vibrancy of the contemporary arts scene in China, and how well artists were supported, with specific mentions made of the 789 area of Beijing.
* All three mentioned how the political structure of China had, in fact, forced artists to be more adventurous, since their works were either censored, or artists self-censored.
* Two of the artists were old enough to remember the Cultural Revolution, and one spoke about his experiences working on a farm, when he would have rather been painting.
* All three spoke about how much fun the Archibald Prize was to enter for the pure “sport” of it all.
All in all, it was a good evening, and kinda interesting that it co-incided with the Olympic Torch Relay arriving in Australia.
I’m sure I’ll be going back to Art After Hours more regularly? Anyone wanna come?
Academic and filmmaker (and colleague and friend) Larissa Behrendt talked about the importance to her of using archival material in her work, emphasizing the power of showing, rather than just telling, younger generations about past events. She acknowledged that reviewing some of the archive material in her new film was a little “triggering”, as it included memories of some difficult periods in Aboriginal history.
Larissa;s latest film, One Mind, One Heart, centers on the bark petitions, examples of which are displayed in the foyer of Parliament House in Canberra. These petitions, originating from Aboriginal communities in the Northern Territory in the 1960s, addressed many issues, including land rights.
The film tells the story of one such petition that ended up in a house in Derby, Western Australia, separated from the others, and its eventual return to its community in the Northern Territory.
This journey raised interesting issues about the nature of repatriation: of returning artefacts and human remains to many communities from which they were taken. The interesting thing in this case is these petitions were intentionally created to leave the community and raise awareness. This distinction adds a layer of nuance to the discussion of repatriation.
The film’s producer, (my friend) Michaela Perske, was praised by Larissa for her problem-solving skills and ability to navigate the challenges of filmmaking, particularly when tackling difficult subjects. Larissa and Michaela have a strong friendship and working relationship having previously collaborated on the film After the Apology.
Despite confronting subject matter, including Aboriginal disadvantage, the abolition of ATSIC, and the Northern Territory Intervention, the film’s strength lies in its focus on the individuals involved. Viewers get to know key figures in the Indigenous rights movement, such as Aunty Pat Turner, Peter Yu and many others. The combination of contemporary interviews and archival footage creates a really powerful narrative of community strength and resilience. The response to today’s screening (and Q&A) session at Dendy Newtown was very positive.
Larissa Behrendt (second from right) at today’s screening at Dendy Newtown
One Mind, One Heart is currently available on SBS On Demand and NITV, and I’d highly recommend seeing it.
It sounds like you’ve recovered – thank you for sparing us all the details. :o)
Things have been interesting for me I guess. I’m still at Museum Victoria, it’s a fabulous place to work and I get to be creative occasionally. I’m doing some photography on the side these days and have been invited by an art gallery curator to exhibit some of my pieces at her next exhibition.
I’m off to Canberra over Easter to watch my friend Gina Williams perform – you may remember her from the NAIDOC ball in Perth one year. She now sings in Noongar language and has just finished her album – Daniel Browning will be interviewing her for Awaye! very soon. I’ll also be hitting the stage in Canberra to perform some of my poetry, it’ll be my first time presenting poetry at a national event (I’ve only ever read at small local events).
I guess the biggest thing to happen is that last year I nearly died from an illness. It’s a long story, but the crux of it is that I now have SLE Lupus and an associated condition called antiphospholipid syndrome. On Australia Day last year I was rushed to hospital for an emergency blood transfusion because I only had a Hb level of 28 – it pretty much meant I had no blood left in my body. A bunch of other weird crap happened with my body between then and late February, and it all came to a head when I was rushed in to hospital again with a massive pericardial effusion – 1.5 litres of fluid around my heart (we’re only supposed to have about 28ml). I ended up in acute care cardiac plugged in to all sorts of beeping machines with tachycardia on the verge of a heart attack. They finally figured it all out and two weeks later I was well and back at work.
So I’m back to being my energetic and creative self. We’re off to Tasmania next February to ride our motorbikes around the state for two weeks with a bunch of friends. I have a new bike, the Yamaha Bolt R-Spec (probably means nothing to you, but it’s a bobber style cruiser).
We have two dogs – two mini foxies, a unique Australian breed that’s small and bred specifically to hunt and catch rats. Energetic? Yes! And truck loads of character.
There are more things to tell but I won’t monopolise your blog for that. Here’s a link to a few photos, I have more but these are ones where I was learning how to use my camera properly and understanding how different lenses operate: http://www.flickr.com/photos/103623364@N07/
Hi Tiff,
Glad to hear you’re recovering after what sounds like a pretty full-on year.
Yes, I absolutely remember Gina. The NAIDOC Ball was one my strong memories of my year in Perth – TEN YEARS AGO – along with going out for dinner that night at the restaurant in South Perth which I think I recall you had won (?). Anyway, I blogged about the ball. http://jamesobrien.id.au/2004/07/25/late-july-catchup/
Your photographs are really great. Really nice, clear, and a nice fresh perspective on lots of things.
You’ll love Tassie by bike. It’s an amazing place. I could POSSIBLY live there.
James
xx
Uh oh, what happened?
Just not very good. How’s things Tif?
It sounds like you’ve recovered – thank you for sparing us all the details. :o)
Things have been interesting for me I guess. I’m still at Museum Victoria, it’s a fabulous place to work and I get to be creative occasionally. I’m doing some photography on the side these days and have been invited by an art gallery curator to exhibit some of my pieces at her next exhibition.
I’m off to Canberra over Easter to watch my friend Gina Williams perform – you may remember her from the NAIDOC ball in Perth one year. She now sings in Noongar language and has just finished her album – Daniel Browning will be interviewing her for Awaye! very soon. I’ll also be hitting the stage in Canberra to perform some of my poetry, it’ll be my first time presenting poetry at a national event (I’ve only ever read at small local events).
I guess the biggest thing to happen is that last year I nearly died from an illness. It’s a long story, but the crux of it is that I now have SLE Lupus and an associated condition called antiphospholipid syndrome. On Australia Day last year I was rushed to hospital for an emergency blood transfusion because I only had a Hb level of 28 – it pretty much meant I had no blood left in my body. A bunch of other weird crap happened with my body between then and late February, and it all came to a head when I was rushed in to hospital again with a massive pericardial effusion – 1.5 litres of fluid around my heart (we’re only supposed to have about 28ml). I ended up in acute care cardiac plugged in to all sorts of beeping machines with tachycardia on the verge of a heart attack. They finally figured it all out and two weeks later I was well and back at work.
So I’m back to being my energetic and creative self. We’re off to Tasmania next February to ride our motorbikes around the state for two weeks with a bunch of friends. I have a new bike, the Yamaha Bolt R-Spec (probably means nothing to you, but it’s a bobber style cruiser).
We have two dogs – two mini foxies, a unique Australian breed that’s small and bred specifically to hunt and catch rats. Energetic? Yes! And truck loads of character.
There are more things to tell but I won’t monopolise your blog for that. Here’s a link to a few photos, I have more but these are ones where I was learning how to use my camera properly and understanding how different lenses operate: http://www.flickr.com/photos/103623364@N07/
Have a great weekend. :o)
Hi Tiff,
Glad to hear you’re recovering after what sounds like a pretty full-on year.
Yes, I absolutely remember Gina. The NAIDOC Ball was one my strong memories of my year in Perth – TEN YEARS AGO – along with going out for dinner that night at the restaurant in South Perth which I think I recall you had won (?). Anyway, I blogged about the ball. http://jamesobrien.id.au/2004/07/25/late-july-catchup/
Your photographs are really great. Really nice, clear, and a nice fresh perspective on lots of things.
You’ll love Tassie by bike. It’s an amazing place. I could POSSIBLY live there.
James
xx