back to brunswick


It’s gotta be connected somehow. The chatty woman sitting next to me while I sipped tea on Sydney Road after breakfast. She’s waiting for her hairdresser. Who’s late. Around the corner, a (pet?) cockatoo sits perched at the gateway to a garage. We stare at each other for a while, and I move on, giving it a thumb up. It stares back, then shrieks as I leave. I hastily document a few things with my cameraphone (it’s all I have on me) – an abandoned heater, an old ad painted on the building of what must’ve been a milk bar once, the burnt-out wreckage of an abandoned building and a nice apostrophe on a street sign. What happened to the corner cafe I used to buy my weekend coffees from as I’d head out for a walk with the camera? It seems to have closed down, but looks mysteriously ready for action – tables and chairs and umbrellas are still visible inside.