OJ Rushton, musical director of the Ozy Youth Choir Honouring Defence Service, had a dream. She invited kids from the Southern Highlands and bush to come together and join her fledgling choir. Some of the kids had parents in the military, and all immediately felt a sense of belonging. The lessons are completed online, though... Continue Reading →
I had a hard time holding my newborn. When I was pregnant, I practiced carrying a string bag filled with oranges, and a sack of potatoes. Weights and hydrotherapy also played an important role. When my daughter came along, I found it very difficult to hold her, and wrangling her as an active toddler was... Continue Reading →
I adore plays on words, and am also fond of the whimsical and absurd. As I lay in bed with an appalling migraine, recovering from my occipital nerve blocks, I discovered the following bouncing around the internet. It probably wasn't the wisest of times to imbibe in such hilarity, as boy, did my head hurt!... Continue Reading →
She knew what it felt like to be owned, or rather, how it felt when others presumed to own her. She had never felt as free as when she placed her most treasured possessions in a suitcase and left the detritus of her old life. The wardrobe was crammed with dresses and coats she would... Continue Reading →
Bring your friends and family down to Bondi Beach and join the RSL Youth Choir in an historic photo shoot! To launch the National Peace Project, the participants shall be filmed as they assemble to make the map of Australia, the Red Cross emblem at it's centre. The choir and Army Band shall also be... Continue Reading →
My daughter and I and some dear friends went to Sydney Park last Saturday to pay homage to Kate Bush, whilst at the same time, denouncing domestic violence. I used to listen to Wuthering Heights as a young girl, living under the oppressive understanding that a violent and possessive man would be deciding when my... Continue Reading →
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-Dur3uXXCQ I was blown away by this song, and the sentiment behind it. She speaks for many survivors. Welcome back, Kesha! The best is yet to come.
My daughter has been my companion to many concerts. Some operatic, some classical, some pop and some rock. The squeals of joy echo through my home when I inform her that we have tickets to a visiting performer. She carefully selects what she is going to wear, and we make plans to have dinner somewhere... Continue Reading →