Wrote a chapter in new big book High Voltage: AC/DC an Illustrated Guide. Included in The Best Australian Poems 2009 aND 2010. Jen’s essay Sex Crimes in Suburbia was included in Meanjin's ‘Law and Crime - the Long Arm’ issue (October 2007). A widely-published, versatile professional writer, she wrote Skyhooks Million Dollar Riff, poetry books Marsupial Wrestling, Alleycat and gutter Vs stars (Flat Chat 2006). Available for professional writing jobs of all kinds including reports, workshops, journalism, poetry and publicity.
jenjewelbrown@gmail.com
Entropy perhaps, rot, maybe. Permanance is a well worn myth. Change is feared in many corners. Perhaps, its only a proposition, that perhaps Fitzroy has been rotting for years. I always believed that was Fitzroy's charm and irresistable draw. And graffitti or scratching walls is a action that requires entropy to renew itself. Your images capture the very act, and its fleeting character and its recurrent challenge to renew. Then to rot again. I love it! More please!!
I agree and I love the beauty of decay, of the paint peeling from the Provincial Hotel's walls, no doubt with their debt of lead powdering the street ... And recall the shadows of past residents, parkies settling in a circle round a fire where the council flats now stand, shadows that flit between our legs when we stride past the galleries on Gertie Street, dirty Gerty, the dirty mile.Never gone, never gone ... Never gone.
2 comments:
Entropy perhaps, rot, maybe. Permanance is a well worn myth. Change is feared in many corners. Perhaps, its only a proposition, that perhaps Fitzroy has been rotting for years. I always believed that was Fitzroy's charm and irresistable draw. And graffitti or scratching walls is a action that requires entropy to renew itself. Your images capture the very act, and its fleeting character and its recurrent challenge to renew. Then to rot again. I love it! More please!!
I agree and I love the beauty of decay, of the paint peeling from the Provincial Hotel's walls, no doubt with their debt of lead powdering the street ... And recall the shadows of past residents, parkies settling in a circle round a fire where the council flats now stand, shadows that flit between our legs when we stride past the galleries on Gertie Street, dirty Gerty, the dirty mile.Never gone, never gone ... Never gone.
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