I’m on the road in between at the moment, on the way to somewhere else, chasing the sun – physically and ‘inwardly’.
Physically, I’m on a road trip and I find myself in a hotel room in a Victorian town called Traralgon, it’s 5:30am on a Thursday wedged between Christmas and New Year, and I’m waiting for reception to open so I can check out and make moves to find myself on the other side of in between – Lake Entrance, Merimbula, Mollymook, home.
‘Inwardly’ I’ve been writing, sketching, photographing, placing buckets all over the place to catch the bombardments from the Muse, for my novel, the collaborative project Disinflection, dreaming up designs for Kittykatmandoo, and generally trying to train myself to plan less with my writing and just write more.

(That last part sounded dangerously close to being a New Year resolution. Feel free to roll your eyes).