Yesterday I took Mum’s bike out of the garage and circled the peninsula around its very edge. It was my first time on the new bike track they’ve installed along the river side on the west, and it’s an absolutely gorgeous ride. Once I reached the bridge in the north, I turned off the track and cycled around underneath it. I’ve never been there before, and it kind of looked like the type of place you might get a knife in the ribs late at night. However in the grey light of oncoming evening, it was really quite lovely. Leaving the bike under some marsh bushes, I waded out on the silt to dip my feet in the river. The tide was low and I could get out almost halfway. I looked back down the river towards Stockton, with Newcastle looming behind it, and for a moment felt very far away from things. The moment broke as a car pulled up under the pylons. I sprinted back across the sand and up the rocks to the bike, hoping the two men who’d emerged from the car were unpacking fishing rods and not, say, anything I shouldn’t be seeing. Racing back down the road into Stockton itself, I turned sharply across the peninsula and over towards the ocean, stopping on the verge across from the lot where Mum and Dad are building the new house. I leant the bike against the stairs down to the beach, kicked off my sandals, and hit the pale blue water up to my knees, washing off the river mud. That evening, Mum, Dad and I watched Jeff Who Lives At Home and ate turkey and cranberry sandwiches, and they laughed at each other while making bowls of macadamia ice cream and strawberries. It’s pretty good to be back here.

Yesterday I took Mum’s bike out of the garage and circled the peninsula around its very edge. It was my first time on the new bike track they’ve installed along the river side on the west, and it’s an absolutely gorgeous ride.

Once I reached the bridge in the north, I turned off the track and cycled around underneath it. I’ve never been there before, and it kind of looked like the type of place you might get a knife in the ribs late at night. However in the grey light of oncoming evening, it was really quite lovely. Leaving the bike under some marsh bushes, I waded out on the silt to dip my feet in the river. The tide was low and I could get out almost halfway. I looked back down the river towards Stockton, with Newcastle looming behind it, and for a moment felt very far away from things.

The moment broke as a car pulled up under the pylons. I sprinted back across the sand and up the rocks to the bike, hoping the two men who’d emerged from the car were unpacking fishing rods and not, say, anything I shouldn’t be seeing. Racing back down the road into Stockton itself, I turned sharply across the peninsula and over towards the ocean, stopping on the verge across from the lot where Mum and Dad are building the new house. I leant the bike against the stairs down to the beach, kicked off my sandals, and hit the pale blue water up to my knees, washing off the river mud.

That evening, Mum, Dad and I watched Jeff Who Lives At Home and ate turkey and cranberry sandwiches, and they laughed at each other while making bowls of macadamia ice cream and strawberries. It’s pretty good to be back here.

Oooh new project!

This is something like a sketch for my new animation. His name is Twig, and I am teaching him how to walk at the moment. It’s going to be a tricky project for me, since I didn’t do much actual cell-by-cell drawn animation in the last one, just animated my photoshopping and photographs of Phoebe walking around lookin’ dreamy. 

It’s my last film for my degree, so I want it to be good, but I don’t have as much heart invested in it as the last one, if I’m honest. Also I’m kind of daunted. So I need to give myself more pep talks this semester, and I’m going to do project updates here as part of that. Get ready!


(Also my amazing father bought me a copy of Photoshop a couple of weeks ago after my trial ran out, and I am super duper excited to be able to play with it again! THANKS DAD)

(Also also: this project needs a name. The working title will just be Twig, but maybe it could get something better?) 

13. We Used To WaitI write more letters since I went away - while I was there, and since I came back, too. I’ve found you write different things in different mediums; you tell different stories in letters than you might tell via the internet or over the phone. I love snail mail, there’s something so much more special about having something solid which you can shape and hold and touch travel from one place to another.[The Suburbs Project] 

13. We Used To Wait


I write more letters since I went away - while I was there, and since I came back, too. I’ve found you write different things in different mediums; you tell different stories in letters than you might tell via the internet or over the phone. I love snail mail, there’s something so much more special about having something solid which you can shape and hold and touch travel from one place to another.

[The Suburbs Project

10. Month of MayIt seems almost too appropriate that May 2011 was one of the most eventful and drama-filled month of my life to date. Hijinks, shenanigans, betrayals, victories, scandals, reconciliations, clandestine happenings, you name it we’ve got it. Also we had a lot of picnics.[The Suburbs Project] 

10. Month of May


It seems almost too appropriate that May 2011 was one of the most eventful and drama-filled month of my life to date. Hijinks, shenanigans, betrayals, victories, scandals, reconciliations, clandestine happenings, you name it we’ve got it. Also we had a lot of picnics.

[The Suburbs Project