‘…nothing one does in bed is immoral if it helps to perpetuate love.’
Gabriel Garcia Marquez,
Love in the Time of Cholera.
I dreamed that we were on an Italian beach at sunset, sitting on the sand. We watched as night passed over the ocean and climbed the cliff face as the sun withdrew beneath the rim of the world, leaving the heat of the day to radiate from the earth as the echo of its passing.
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At the gym – working on the gun show.
Rodney Hall is one of Australia’s greatest living writers. He has been nominated for the Miles Franklin Award seven times and if he wins this year, it’ll be the third time he’s gone home with the prize.
I have known him for eighteen years and he never fails to deliver on the subject of literature. He has been kind enough to wax lyrical at the Theme Park on matters literary and a few others that happen to intersect within his purview.
T.P: I’m guessing that if the Miles Franklin Award was predicated on biceps, you’d win that. Continue reading
Theme Park at its Darkest 