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Author: Tony London

  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Light and darkness

    • Tony London
    • 18 October 2022

    Change of season is upon us, / hot unseasonal days have drained us, / human sponges squeezed by the hands / of humidity, but the nights are becomingcool, a relief for bodies and minds in need / of withdrawal and replenishment of deep sleep, but in all of this there is some wakefulness, and there are some choristers returned, in these dogwatch hours.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    After eyes tight shut

    • Tony London
    • 12 May 2020
    1 Comment

    We have always lived thus, in our heads. Bone domes, impenetrable to others, we might project animus, animation, add to Duncan’s questioning. The mind’s construction in the face, enigmatic, Rubik cube with sixteen squares on each face, so any signs I give are laced, graced with ambiguity.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Submission to the elements

    • Tony London
    • 04 June 2018
    4 Comments

    Winter fronts roll through, we have had our tongues out for rain, genuflected in case it may have helped, and now another scud rattling on the tin roof, gutters run over like a gushing bereavement.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    The coal trick

    • Tony London
    • 20 November 2017
    2 Comments

    A suited clown took into the House of Discourse a piece of coal, its darkness shimmering, not quite the diamond it might become. It was his talisman, part of his conjuring trick, now you see it, now you don't, and he tricked them ...

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    You beaut country

    • Tony London
    • 03 July 2017

    His baseline is country, ridges, lakes, breakaways, songlines, and we are taken along the skylines of his imagination which shoulders its way through the streamers of the players race, colours askew, bursting out into the field of play where we are invited into his game, his rules, goal posts he moves forever, we engage with the master gamer.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    St Patrick's Ballarat

    • Tony London
    • 13 February 2017
    6 Comments

    The chimneys of various shapes and sizes on the priest's houses next door, have not spumed since the winter, and in and around St Patrick's things like that might seem symbolic. Will fires ever be lit there again - lest the people speak - the ribbons spliced up and down the wrought iron railings, rattle in the brisk autumn breeze, telling stories of love, suffering and endless disharmony, broken trust, send messages to those in the passing traffic  ... better the devil you don't know ...

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Learning how to die

    • Tony London
    • 20 April 2010
    3 Comments

    The old people in the mortuary silence of the doctor’s waiting room, rehearse the look, the patois, become familiar with the creeping symptoms, the medicines of resistance, the gentle small steps on the way.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Black Saturday

    • Tony London
    • 17 March 2009
    2 Comments

    This searing that killed simply by stealing the light and burning up the air they needed. 'This here is where the windscreen melted.' 'It was like they had been cremated in embrace.'

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