last light

I was chatting with a fellow healthcare worker yesterday and learnt an interesting quirk. Watching the sunset at Cable Beach is apparently an experience that many people aspire to. Judging by our time at Cable Beach so far, this doesn't surprise me. Unfortunately, ticking this item off your bucket list can be more difficult if you suddenly approach the end of your life.

"There are people" my new friend said, "who rush to jump on a plane to Broome, despite being very sick. They deteriorate due to the slightly lower oxygen levels over a long flight, and get taken straight from the airport to the hospital. People have travelled thousands of kilometres across Australia, then died in hospital five kilometres from the Cable Beach."

back to broome

There are a few differences this time around. Six years ago, our random wanderings here involved hikes, bikes and crocodiles. Now we're back with Biscuit Boy and Rhino, who are 4 years old and 2 months old. The pull to come back to Broome has always been strong... even stronger than the intimidating task of flying 6000km with the family to an area of extreme weather and isolation. We're settling in for six months, and will hopefully reach a deeper understanding of The Kimberley.

A few happenings in the last week:
Two green tree frogs were gently relocated from our toilet to the garden.
We were invited to Dingo Joe's birthday party.
Terrence introduced me to traditional Aboriginal spear fishing.

Once again, I've been astonished by the embedded palette of colours...

Gantheaume Point

This Next Wave

Diving into the subterranean world of zine creativity has yielded unexpected results. Spurzine writes about the internal conflict that inevitably comes with being a transvestite who loves heavy metal music. Yuki Ishii pens peculiar cartoons on subjects such as the expression on a monkey as it rains porridge.

As I was swimming through this expanse, my Friends in the City zine also travelled from hand to hand. Sarah held onto it and offered me publication. I'm chuffed to say that some of my observations are now part of a magazine called This Next Wave. It's a beautiful publication of ideas, stories and art about social change.