Age columns

In October 2005 I got an amazing phone call from Jonathan Green, then editor of A2 for The Age, Melbourne’s broadsheet newspaper. For the next six and a half years I wrote a fortnightly column for the arts section of the Saturday Age, alternating with Robert Drewe. I had four wonderful editors and they pretty much gave me my head to write whatever I liked.

Sometimes it was just whatever wittering was going on in my head at the moment, sometimes they were humorous, often they were ranty, occasionally they were humorous AND ranty, sometimes I got my serious political on and sometimes it was just me trying to find things that we all have in common even if we don’t realise it all the time.

Here are some of them from over the years… I was very sorry to stop writing them but it was a privilege to get to do them at all. Great thanks to my editors and especially the delightful readers who took the time to let me know what they thought.

From the ruins…

Voices of the dead

Sense of humour

Melbourne All Change

Retail

Not love, actually, but gladness

The favourite cup and other animisms

Kindness at the end of the road

Photographs and real life

Where are the grown ups?

Hypochondria!

Where’s my fondue set? and tales of home contents insurance

Lights, cameras, inaction: not going to festivals

Making lists of things to do

The black cat

My eternal love for Michael Wood and history documentaries

Eating

Hands

Joys of failure

The driving lesson

The ’70s and Douglas Adams

Small kindnesses

Childhood homes

Language you can swear by

Desperately seeking soul of Docklands

Noise pollution

Gnome more

Baths

The 79 tram down Chapel St

On handwriting and journals

Cosmos of wonders

Friendly reminder

My green jacket

In the end, it’s only the beginning

Goes by the board

The grapes of sloth

Changing the world, one survey at a time

Driven to mass distraction

When words come back to haunt you

Pigeon poo in London

Footpath frenzy

Flinders St Station

The plumped and plucked pretenders

Yoga bitch

Catastrophically captivated by my cat

Up the cliche clique without a paddle

Why my priorities are arts about

Collecting

Wintry discontent

When knowledge is in the firing line

Strumming up the best years of my life

The spectre in the spectacle

Neighbourhood noise

Rome sweet Rome

… That’s all that I have links for at the moment — unfortunately my column is available online only to Age subscribers unless one of them posts a link.

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