I like the idea of resistance, and I’d like to think I was part of… you know resistance but I don’t think I am. Well not enough to claim it. But I think it’s important. And I suppose I do what I can when I can.

I remember rallies back in the 70’s and there was the first Mardi Gras too. Sydney was a place where stuff could happen. That’s why I moved here. I suppose I was never in the thick of it. I’ve always been an observer. I probably don’t have the most exciting stories from that time but I was around people that did. And I liked that. I liked that I could feel safe here but still feel like there was change happening around me. Perhaps that’s complacency.

But I did help. I helped in ways I could. My first apartment was in Rushcutters Bay and I was paying only $70 a week in rent. I had my own bedroom and I would share my lounge to all sorts of people. Artists and activists stayed at mine and I was proud of that.

I’m still proud of that.


Fresh paint, alcohol (something hard – whiskey most probably), rubber, something fruity like mango but just a bit – that’s the hope