All posts tagged: reflection

The 365 Project: March

March was the month of being brave. I started my final year of University. I applied (and trained up) for going on student radio with my friend Timmy. I applied for a crazy-competitive student editorship which made me walk around Uni talking to, filming and taking photos of strangers. A piece I wrote on how students experience religion became the cover story of my Uni magazine. Day 60-91 of 2015 pushed me out of my comfort zone, made me fall deeper in love with media and taught me to believe in myself a bit more. But I guess the point of this project isn’t to simply remember the significant moments in my life – the milestones that I doubt I will forget easily. The point is to also dedicate the same amount of mind-space (or page space, in this case) to the everyday thoughts and activities and ideas that, cumulatively, make me me. March was also a month to think more about personal style – what makes people pay attention to you, what makes you look …

The 365 Project: February

Feb is a pretty weird month. For one, it’s only 28 days. For another, it’s sometimes 29. Feb is the end of summer for the south. It’s also roughly the time when you stop thinking about how it’s a ‘new’ year – it just becomes another year. It’s also without a doubt the most difficult month to spell. This February, I did some pretty great stuff. I bid adieu to my sister as she embarks on a 6-month exchange to Sheffield (she’s going to do great!). I started playing netball again with my high school friends, which turns out to be an awesome excuse to catch up each week. And I went on some pretty cute adventures with my friends in the last month of our summer holiday! One The Royal Croquet Club Picture some kind of huge garden party with food trucks, live music and – oh yes – a giant croquet lawn with tall tennis chairs and Pimms in cute, stripey cups. That was the Royal Croquet Club, a pop-up event near Melbourne’s CBD. Two …

Swallowing Sadness

When I was a kid, I couldn’t swallow tablets. Not only could I not swallow them, I had an absolute, throat-constricting fear of them. So, the summer when I developed mumps was a particularly painful summer for both me and my family. My nightly treatment was a war zone: there was me, a stubborn five-year-old with swollen cheeks, distraught with fear at the idea of consuming something I could not chew; my worried mother begging me to try again as I spat out the pill for the fifth time; my frustrated father commanding she hold my nose and force it down. And then there was my gentle Grandpa who coaxed me from the chaos and took me to the kitchen. He patiently diced the miniscule tablet into microscopic pieces, and replaced my water glass with an apple raspberry juicebox. Then he sat and stroked my back as I shook and sobbed and swallowed until the tablet was gone. I’m not entirely sure if that memory is mine, or whether it was planted into my mind …