43 days in Europe, begins today.
Holly and I squeeze down the aisle of the plane, our eyes roving across unfamiliar faces and rows of numbers as we search for our seats. Excitement bubbles in our stomachs, rushing through our veins, quickening the unsteady beat of our hearts. Anticipation has kept sleep at bay, but now it pushes against my eyelids as I settle into the cushioned window seat, adventure just within reach. Continue reading “Passport? Check!”
Tucked in an underground bar in Brisbane’s fortitude valley, a little room filled with tattered couches and strings of Christmas lights played host to a magical night of live music. People poured into the festive room wearing bright smiles, settling into the scattered array of chairs with bottles of champagne and picnics stowed in their bags. The show ahead would be a night of overly-talented performers singing carols and musical theatre pieces, the cast including members from the Australian tours of Les Miserables, Matilda, Into the Woods and the Sound of Music.
Underground Broadway is not just a place where musical theatre lovers gather to watch their friends and icons take to the microphone in a flurry of passion, laughter and energy. Underground Broadway is a place where like-minded people gather to share love and appreciation, spread joy and revel in happiness. As Spencer said on the night, “It doesn’t matter if you’re gay, what colour your skin is, your nationality, your religion… If you are kind, you will always have a place here at Underground Broadway.” Continue reading “Underground Broadway: Christmas”
Just some photographs a friend and I shot in May, nothing more.
A vibrant elephant dancing on a blue wall, nothing more.
Collages of fashion, people and art on peach backgrounds, nothing more.
Not every artwork has dozens of hidden layers sewed underneath swatches of paint.
Not every raised eyebrow or shrug means more than you think it does.
Not every conversation needs to be dissected under blinding lights.
Some things have no purpose more
than to simply be,
A chat with emerging musical theatre artist, Katie Swan, from the contemporary duo ‘Forrester & Swan’ about the future, Japan, firsts and lasts.
Brisbane struck lucky this weekend when the Finders Keepers markets overtook Bowen Hill’s old museum in a blur of flowers, handmade jewelry, prints and home-ware. The Australian Design and Art markets are ultimately a gathering of good food, good music, and good people, surrounded by unsurpassable stalls boasting unique treasures. From amethysts growing plants to wooden clouds providing frames for colourful prints, everywhere you looked there was bound to be something to catch your eye. I captured my favourite portions of Finders Keepers on camera, but to really grasp an understanding of the relaxed, sunny atmosphere, keep up to date on when these stellar markets are next hitting up Brisbane and follow the Finders Keepers Instagram: @finders_keepers.
Featuring: terrariums by bella // the grassy bowl // hello miss may // dear mabel // bespoke letterpress // ace of swords // core // erin lightfoot // alice nightingale
I’m willing to gamble all the money in my bank account (and for a waitress’ salary I promise it’s not all that shabby) that you’re hiding at least one little questionable habit from your peers’ judgemental glares and screwed-up noses. No need to worry, I won’t tell anyone. The thing is, there’s bound to be something that gets their knees knocking in excitement too, despite the shameful connotations.
Every time I cross the Storybridge in Lancelot (my silver lancer), there’s a feel good song blasting on the radio, my windows are rolled down and the stretched city landscape rushes past in a blur of tall buildings and metallic colours. Looking at these photos transports me to this really special space in my mind where I’m flying across the bridge but in slow motion, caught in the moment with ample time to stop and smell the roses.
We live in a fast-paced environment, constantly connected to our phones and squeezing as much activity as we can into the shortest amount of time. With Spring comes the opportunity to take a step back, breathe deeply and just chiillll.
I’m not one of those ‘crazy feminist lasses who think every man is the spawn of satan himself,’ but lately the concept of guys verbally abusing gals has been circling around my brain. The older I grow, the more I notice the position of women in society and how sometimes the relationship between the two sexes is simply an inherent part of our culture. Something that I can’t even begin to understand, however, is the notion of cat-calling.
It’s simply unbelievable how many times we experience pure, unadulterated magic everyday through a series of insignificant events: Continue reading “fire N gold”