Start Wishing Again

Over the last nine days since I last wrote, I've made a major change to my upcoming journey through life. First of all, I'm not going to do a Certificate III in Hospitality. I don't think I'm too old to work in the industry—I've just found the one path I've been looking for this whole time.

I've decided to study a Diploma of Screen and Media (Animation, Gaming, and Visual Effects) at TAFE SA starting next year. That will then lead into an Advanced Diploma of Screen and Media (Content Creation and Design) the following year.

I want to explain where the animation, gaming, visual effects, and content creation and design side of things comes from for me.

3D printers can now print out body parts. As I understand it, they use living cells or tissues, making the printed parts technically alive. But it raises a powerful question: you could theoretically 3D print an entire human body—organs, limbs, everything. So, what separates that 3D-printed body from a real human being?

It’s the breath of life. And where does that magic come from? What animates the inanimate?

Without going too deeply into that, I started thinking: I would love to have the skill set and creative control to create high-quality 3D prints, especially of the human form.

My vision is to create 3D wall hangings, framed like traditional artwork, but with the artwork extending out into the space around the frame—challenging the flatness of traditional painting and embracing dimensionality.

Ultimately, my work will be a fusion between technology and traditional art forms—casting, sculpting, gilding, painting—all anchored in strong conceptual frameworks and executed with technical skill.

Since my true goal in life is to travel the world, I’m hoping these qualifications will give me enough skills to earn income, support my travels, and still have enough left over to live a comfortable and meaningful life.

To get ready for TAFE, I'm getting a tutor in 3D modelling. I found him through a reputable website, and I’m meeting up with him next week when he gets back from a holiday. I’m thinking of booking him for four hours a week, just to give myself a head start on the qualification next year.

I’ve changed my life’s course so many times, and honestly, I’ve literally wanted to do every single job I’ve seen someone doing. I’ve started studies in a number of different fields, and while my employment has mostly been in customer service and secretarial roles, I’ve worked in so many different places.

But now I know exactly what I want from life: I want to travel. I want to see the world.

And I don’t think I’ll ever get to do that unless I sit down and figure out where the money is going to come from.

I know in my heart that the best way for me to earn a living in this life is through the creative arts—through writing and making things.

So even though I’m not currently studying writing, I’m going to keep blogging, keep working on my novel when I can, and mostly… just get it all done. Quietly. Consistently.

I know I can freelance and create artwork—but only once I’ve developed the technical skills that will give me complete creative control.

That’s enough about my study plans. I feel like anyone following this blog will think I’m a madwoman—still changing direction every two seconds at age 43.

But the truth is, I want this, and I’m going to make it happen.

Last Thursday, the 13th of March, Mum and I met Maureen—my former tutor, substitute daughter, and friend—at the Botanic Gardens for the night session of the Dale Chihuly glass exhibition.

My mum struggles with mobility at the best of times, but she thought she’d be okay to walk around the gardens—and she was, for a while.

While it was still light, we saw two pieces. The first was called "First Boat and Niijima Floats," made out of blown glass and a wooden boat. The second piece was inside a glasshouse-type structure and was titled "Glacier Ice and Lapis Chandelier," made from blown glass and steel.

I hadn’t been to the Botanic Gardens in what felt like a lifetime, and as I walked around, I realised just how beautiful it really is. I didn’t remember it like that.

Then we came across a fountain—and I absolutely love fountains. Even more than that, I love when people throw a coin into the water and make a wish. One day, I can’t wait to get to Italy and see the Trevi Fountain—and all the wishes people have made there.

The only sad thing about this particular fountain at the Botanic Gardens was that there were no coins under the water. Not one.

So I decided I’d start a trend. I threw twenty cents into the fountain.

Mum kept watch so no one would see me do it—but really, I wanted people to see. I wanted them to follow suit, to start wishing again.

Below, you can see the fountain and the twenty-cent coin I threw in.

Mum was really struggling on her feet, so we sat down for a while near the fountain. From where we were sitting, we could see lots and lots of what looked like black birds flying across the sky.

I knew they were bats—I’d seen them before around the Botanic Gardens—and I pointed them out to Maureen, who swore they were birds. I didn’t want to make a thing of it, but I insisted they were bats.

Mum decided it was time to leave because of her discomfort, and as we began the walk toward the front gate, we got closer to the bats—and Maureen realised she was wrong.

She still didn’t want to admit they were bats, though. But she’s a smart girl—she obviously knew.

Below, you can see the bats.

It was a slow walk to the gate, with Maureen—who’s a nurse—really helping Mum along. We saw a number of pieces that looked spectacular lit up, but the two below were my favourites.

The first one is called Polyvitro Chandelier, made from polyvitro and steel. I think this one was my favourite of all the pieces we saw.

The second is called Lime and Lava Red Tower, made from blown glass and steel. You can see the bats flying above it.

I think this sculpture had exactly the effect on the audience that Chihuly, as an artist, probably wants. I saw a young couple sitting on a bench, cuddled up together, just gazing at the sculpture. It was romantic, and the piece really set the mood.

We did manage to see a couple of other pieces, but Mum really needed to leave. She struggles with mobility sometimes, and being at the Botanic Gardens really highlighted that for me.

We caught an Uber to The Parade and had some gelati, then headed home.

Seeing Chihuly’s work made me think more deeply about art. By that stage, I had already made my decision to work with 3D modelling, so I found myself really looking at his pieces in terms of form.

One thing I don’t like about the art world is how pretentious it can be. Each one of Chihuly’s sculptures would be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I had to wonder—is it worth it?

They didn’t appear to have any deeper meaning beyond what they were: large, colourful blobs of mainly glass. What really made them awe-inspiring for people, in my opinion, was the scale. They’re huge.

I honestly feel that any skilled glass artist could create similar pieces—but theirs wouldn’t be worth nearly as much, simply because they don’t have a brand like Chihuly does.

So is that the key to art, like so many other things in life? Is it really all about branding?

L'amour Triomphe De out

Last Tuesday, March 4, I had a routine mammogram at BreastScreen. It's now 1:43am on Thursday, March 13, and I’m not going to lie—over the past week, the results of that mammogram have been in the back of my mind. But deep down I know that if there were a problem, they would have contacted me within a few days, so now I’m just waiting for that letter in the mail, giving me the all-clear.

I had my first mammogram four years ago when I turned 40. Apparently, they don’t start strongly encouraging screenings until you turn 50, but you can start getting them at 40. I started straight away. I think it is so important, and I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t get it done if they can. Although it’s a little uncomfortable, it’s free—and it could save your life.

I have one girlfriend who just turned 50 and has yet to have her first one, and another friend who didn’t start until her late 50s. On the flip side, my 20-year-old hairdresser told me she has been having mammograms for years because breast cancer runs heavily in her family.

Throughout this blog, I’ve sometimes talked about the way I look. As I’ve said before, I don’t have low self-esteem—I’m just realistic about who I am and how I look. My appearance defies society’s conventional standards of beauty. I am okay with this now, and I think there is a place in this world for a beautiful woman, and there is also a place for an ugly one. I am the latter.

Today, I want to show you some photos of myself when I was a child. Although this is an anonymous blog, I’ve decided to share these photos because, first of all, it is close to impossible for anyone to find this blog, let alone read it or identify me. But more importantly, if you have taken the time to read some of my posts, I want to share a little bit of my younger self with you.

I wanted to start with this photo purely because if you look carefully, you will see a gollywog—a racist toy that is considered offensive today. I may have had a racist toy back then, but I grew up to be the least racist person you could meet. I celebrate all people and cultures, and I would be extremely upset if I saw a child with a gollywog today.

Below is another photo of me. I’m dressed as a witch, possibly for a Halloween celebration—though I’m not entirely sure. Whatever the occasion, one thing is clear: I look like a deranged and highly disturbed child.

Here is another photo of me as a child, dressed in some sort of tribal costume. I remember wearing it at primary school, but I can’t quite recall what it was for.

You know, I look at these photos and I can remember what it felt like to be so young and so full of something. I'm not sure it was hope — because I really was a disturbed child — but there was still something a little bit magic about being a kid.

Our family used to travel to Canberra a lot for my dad's job. My mother even bought a house there, which we would share with other people in my dad's line of work. I want that house. I want to buy it back from the current owners. Mum thinks it would have been knocked down and turned into some sort of development, but I have to believe it's still there. I want it so badly. Somehow, in my lifetime, I want to earn enough money so I can knock on the door of that house — which was in a suburb of Canberra called Narrabundah — and say to the owners, "I'll give you whatever you want for your house." Because that's where the only innocence I had as a child lay.

I remember eating custard in that house. Slightly warmed up. I remember eating pistachio nuts with the kids next door and playing hopscotch. My brother and I shared a room, and the curtains were green with dairy cows and potentially other farmyard animals on them — I just can't quite remember.

It was a biggish house, which is how it could accommodate so many people when they were needed in Canberra, and it’s for that reason that I loved to explore it. Behind the back fence, there was an oval, and my brother and I used to go there. I actually don't know what for — there was no playground equipment — but we did go to the oval.

I love that house. I don't want to live there permanently. I just want it for me. I want the house, and I also want our alien God to give me a chance to go back to those days and let me do my whole life again. I would give anything just to adjust a few small wrong decisions, which in turn would adjust the entire trajectory of my life.

There is a world leader who has caught my attention: Emmanuel Macron, the President of France. I think he is charming, funny, confident, and, most importantly, a strong leader.

I admire the way he seems to be standing up for Europe in the face of an unprecedented situation with Donald Trump. And it's almost like he is preparing France for the possibility that they might not always have such a good relationship with America. .

Emmanuel Macron is 47 years old, and his wife, Brigitte Macron, is 71—making her 24 years older than him. I’ve heard of relationships with this kind of age gap when the man is older, but not often when it’s the woman. Brigitte is gorgeous, youthful, and fashionable, and I absolutely love the way he loves her.

He doesn’t care what anyone says about their relationship—he just wants to be with her.

They met when he was 15, and she was 39, married with three children. She was his drama teacher. Apparently, their relationship didn’t start until he was older—17 or 18 years old. Who knows how accurate that is?

When Emmanuel Macron became President of France in 2017, he made it clear that Brigitte Macron would have a public and active role as First Lady.

During his victory speech at the Louvre in May 2017, Emmanuel Macron said:

"She will be there, with her role, by my side as she has always been. But she will not be hidden, because she shares my life, and because her opinion is important."

He is proud of her, he loves her, and all I have to say to Emmanuel and Brigitte Macron is:

"L'amour Triomphe De Tout"

Love triumphs over everything.

The current President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, has been having a rough time. He got absolutely annihilated by President Trump and Vice President Vance. They ganged up on him, and they were ruthless in making him look weak. I think they were wrong to do that to him, and I admire the way European leaders like Emmanuel Macron have come forward and publicly supported Zelenskyy.

The thing that annoys me about Zelenskyy, though, is that he wears super casual clothes when attending diplomatic meetings. When he met with Trump and Vance, he just wore a casual black sweater—and I actually find that disrespectful and rude.

I’ve also seen him wearing the same thing when meeting European leaders, while everyone else is in suits and ties, yet he chooses the casual approach.

I support Ukraine in every way possible, and I personally don’t think it would hurt Australia to send peacekeeping troops if it comes to that.

But for me, he should read the room and stop being so sloppy and unprofessional.

Intricate Dynamics

It's 8:21pm on Saturday, March 8, and I’m sitting on the sofa in our lounge room, writing this while Mum watches The Delta Force with Chuck Norris. For some reason, it's one of her favourites—her go-to movie when she has nothing else to watch.

I don’t mind it; it has that classic ‘80s vibe that I like, especially the music. But the biggest drawcard of the movie is Chuck Norris himself—he's the ultimate hero. My brother and I send each other Chuck Norris jokes all the time. Here are five that I think are pretty funny:

• It takes Chuck Norris 20 minutes to watch 60 Minutes.
• The dinosaurs looked at Church Norris the wrong way once. You know what happened to them.
• Chuck Norris's cowboy boots are made from real cowboys.
• When Chuck Norris's parents had nightmares, they would come to his bedroom.
• Chuck Norris can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.

The Delta Force is also based on a true story—the hijacking of Trans World Airlines (TWA) Flight 847. The flight, traveling from Athens, Greece, to Rome, Italy, was hijacked by two armed Lebanese men from the militant group Hezbollah.

I’m not really watching it, to be honest—I feel like I know half of it off by heart.

Something amazing that I finished watching yesterday was Our Oceans, a five-part Netflix documentary series narrated by Barack Obama. It was my second time watching it because I loved it so much.

Each episode focuses on a specific ocean, highlighting its unique ecosystems, marine life, and the intricate currents that sustain them.

In the first episode, which focused on the Pacific Ocean, there was a segment on orcas which are killer whales, intentionally beaching themselves to hunt prey. They temporarily strand themselves on beaches to catch unsuspecting seals. Obama explained how this hunting technique is passed down through generations and can take up to seven years to master. The documentary highlighted the grandmother of the pod as the primary teacher, reinforcing the idea that knowledge is transferred within the family. For me, this strategic behaviour showcases the orcas' intelligence and adaptability in securing food.

The second episode, about the Indian Ocean, demonstrated the magic of the oceans and the intricate relationships between marine life. They showed manta rays visiting cleaning stations, often referred to as "infirmaries" because of their role in maintaining marine health. These stations are vital hubs where manta rays and other species receive essential cleaning services from smaller fish, which remove parasites and dead skin, promoting overall ocean health.

I absolutely loved this. It made me wonder: How do manta rays know where to go? How do they instinctively allow the smaller fish to do this? And how do the smaller fish know what to do? There is an intelligence in nature that I think we humans often underestimate.

Episode three was about the Atlantic Ocean and explored the lifecycles of sea turtles, which I think are very special creatures. But what really captivated me was how the episode began—with the most beautiful dolphins, Commerson's dolphins. These striking creatures are black and white due to countershading, a form of camouflage that helps them avoid predators and hunt more effectively.

The fourth episode focused on the Arctic Ocean and the effects of melting ice on marine life. However, what really caught my attention was the puffin! The episode showcased the remarkable behaviours of puffins, particularly their monogamous relationships and the challenges they face in the harsh Arctic environment. It captures the poignant moments when puffin pairs reunite after months apart, highlighting their enduring bonds and the intricate dynamics of their breeding season.

I truly saved the best for last. The final episode of the series took us viewers to the Southern Ocean, highlighting the survival strategies of emperor penguins—creatures so striking they resemble works of art. The episode also examines the adaptations of marine organisms to extreme cold and the crucial role of sea ice in the global climate system.

But what really captivated me was the orcas employing their wave-washing technique to hunt seals on ice floes. It was remarkable to witness the hunting strategies of Antarctic B1 killer whales, known for their cooperative behaviour in creating waves to dislodge seals from floating ice. During this particular hunt, the orcas initially target a Weddell seal, successfully knocking it off the ice and eating it. However, they then spend four hours attempting to dislodge a crabeater seal, which ultimately evades them.

It was heartbreaking to watch the seals as they were hunted—their fear and determination to survive were palpable. Yet, this technique is a testament to the orcas' intelligence and adaptability in securing prey in the harsh Antarctic environment.

From January to April each year, orcas can be spotted just off the coast of Bremer Bay in Western Australia. I would love to visit and go on a tour to see these incredible whales. Bremer Bay is about a 5.5-hour drive from Perth or a two-hour drive from Albany.

Traveling alone can be challenging, and since I don’t drive in the country, I’d need to find another way to get there. I’m sure there are buses or flights available.

Seeing orcas in the wild has been a bucket list item for me for a long time, and the older I get, the more I want to prioritise experiences like this.

The Closest Exit

It's Wednesday night, and I'm sitting here with Mum while she watches a movie called The Odessa File. It's about how the Vatican helped a number of high-ranking Nazis escape to South America.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned in this blog that I have applied to do a Certificate III in Hospitality, starting in July of this year. It's a six month full-time course. My thinking is that I will go back to uni next year, but I also really need to generate an income. I know I'm getting a bit long in the tooth for hospitality-type roles, but sometimes I see an older woman waiting tables, and that is what I am going to go for.

I also asked one of the lecturers at TAFE if they ever get mature students, and she said that they do and that I shouldn't have any trouble getting a job.

I had the option of applying for Certificate II or III in Hospitality, and the difference in price is over six and a half thousand dollars, with the higher qualification costing more. I decided on the Certificate III because, by the time I apply for a job, I won't have worked for just over ten years, and I thought it might give me an edge.

I will also have to undertake a placement of 150 hours, which they didn’t have in the Certificate II. I think the placement would be good for experience and could lead to a job.

There are three cafés around town that I have always said I would love to work at. So, on Monday, I met Maureen—my former tutor, friend, and substitute daughter—in town, and we went to take a look at the cafés. Our main priority was to look for older staff members.

The first café we went to was the SA Museum Café. This is my favourite café, and I would absolutely love to work there. Below, you can see the entrance from inside the museum itself.

This café has such a good atmosphere, with the backdrop of bones, which I think belong to a whale. I'm not sure what the others are. Below, you can see inside the café.

We didn't see any significantly older waitstaff, but I feel like the SA Museum would be a workplace that celebrates and welcomes diversity.

I used to religiously go to Night Lab, an event the museum holds a couple of times a year. These are themed after-hours parties where people dress up, and there are a whole lot of activities and things to do across the museum.

It was the dinosaur-themed Night Lab that prompted that ugly incident with that money-hungry woman, Louise, from my origami class.

We didn't get anything to eat at the café—just had a look—and I decided that it would be a dream to work there.

The next café we went to was the Art Gallery Café. Even though I have a keen interest in both viewing and studying art, I haven't been to the Art Gallery in years. As we briefly walked through to get downstairs to the café, I took photos of two pieces of religious artwork that I liked.

The first is Jesus being baptised by John the Baptist. Unfortunately, it didn't have any information about the artist.

The second piece of artwork that spoke to me was a wooden Christ. It is called The Yellow Christ by Rosemary Madigan. She was born in Adelaide in 1926 and died in Yass, New South Wales, in 2019.

When I was at Adelaide Uni, I noticed how the Art Gallery Café spilled out onto the campus. This is the primary reason it made my top three cafés to work at.

But when we got downstairs, I got a bad feeling about the place. I have mentioned in this blog before about my deceased half-brother's mother-in-law, who I view as unbelievably snobby, and the ultimate elitist. She is a volunteer at the Art Gallery, and I just pictured her—and people like her—having a coffee or something to eat at this café.

We took a quick look, then I searched for the closest exit. I managed to get one photo, which you can see below.

After the Art Gallery Café, we decided to get some lunch, so we went to Café Brunelli on Rundle Street. I had a huge calzone, which I didn’t even eat a quarter of, and I also ordered a bowl of roasted potatoes. I saw the potatoes on the menu, and I knew I had to have them. Maureen had a salad.

It was interesting because, while I’m not interested in working at this particular café, it was there that we saw a much older woman working tables. It was nice to see someone around my age—or even a little older—working in hospitality. It gave me a sense of hope about my own future in the industry.

Below, you can see two photos from inside Brunelli.

Our next stop was the Palestinian Centre for Peace on Frome Road. They have an exhibition on for the Fringe called Palestine: A Land of Three Faiths.

The Centre itself was a beautiful place, with a shop downstairs selling Palestinian goods and apparel. The exhibition was upstairs.

When summarising the exhibition, the Australian Friends of Palestine Association said:

"Palestine is the home of three major religions that are closely related to the land, its people, and their history. This exhibition at the Palestine Centre for Peace, a registered Fringe Venue, will feature artworks by artists with backgrounds in the three religions."

I took the two photos below—the first of religious iconography and the second of the beautiful cranes, which I couldn't help but instantly fall in love with.

At the end of the space where the artwork is displayed, there were some photos on the wall. I found them to be incredibly powerful, especially the two below. The sign in the first image says "Nungas For Palestine" and the sign on the second one says "Don't Wash Your Holocaust Trauma With Palestinian Blood".

We went back downstairs to the shop, and I bought some books, cards, and bracelets.

We then set out for our final destination—café number three. The third café was in the Botanical Gardens. It’s more of a restaurant than a café, and it’s set just next to a small lake. It’s so beautiful, and I thought I would love to work there.

But then I thought about leaving work in winter when it starts to get dark. I would have to walk through a significant part of the Botanical Gardens just to get out, and you do hear stories of women being assaulted in there. So, I took this one off my list too.

I say I don’t want to work there, but, well, they probably wouldn’t want me either. It’s just that I think the older I get, the more concerned I am about things like personal safety.

Below are two photos of the Botanical Gardens café/restaurant.

We had a great afternoon. We went looking for somewhere for me to work, had a nice big lunch, and saw a powerful art exhibition at the Palestinian Centre for Peace.

To top things off, we saw one of Dale Chihuly's pieces inside the Botanical Gardens, which you can see below.

This particular piece is called "Sapphire Star," and it was created in 2010. It is made of blown glass and steel.

I like Chihuly. He is one of the founders of the Pilchuck Glass School, which I hope to go to one day in Stanwood, Washington, USA.

Chihuly has bipolar disorder, and it's nice to see that people don't make a thing of it. It’s also good that they let someone with such a serious mental illness near a flame.

Mum, Maureen, and I are going to see the full exhibition of his work in the Botanical Gardens next week. But this "Sapphire Star" was certainly a beautiful glimpse of what I believe is to come.

Islamophobia: What's the Problem?

Yesterday, I dragged Andrew along to the Arkaba for a Fringe show called Casefile Presents: Criminal Conversations with Vikki Petraitis & Emily Webb.

I saw the talk advertised as true crime, so I got two tickets, thinking it would be about Adelaide crimes. They advertised an anonymous guest, so I thought that might be an Adelaide identity—I was actually thinking it might be the Police Commissioner, Grant Stevens, who I think is an absolutely beautiful soul.

However, my idea about what it was turned out to be completely wrong.

Vikki Petraitis, who is a teacher, crime author, and podcaster, and Emily Webb, a journalist, crime author, and podcaster, interviewed "Casey", who was the anonymous guest.

He has a true crime podcast called Casefile, which has become a global sensation, with something like 800 million downloads.

The show featured the two women interviewing him about his podcast, and it was so interesting. I am so pleased we went along—it was just a fascinating story about how he started a podcast that exploded in popularity, leading to a full production team with writers and producers.

He didn’t limit his podcast to just Australian crimes, so he has traveled the world researching and promoting.

I’m not sure why he has chosen to be anonymous, but I respect that.

You can see below two photos I took before the show—the second one is the notice on the big screen, telling us not to take photos or videos during the show to protect his anonymity.

Watching the news lately, it feels like the world's gone crazy!

Gene Hackman and his wife were found dead in their home alongside one of their three dogs. It appears that they had been dead for a while. It’s sad, but he was 95 years old, with two Oscars under his belt, and I feel like he probably lived an interesting and privileged life.

His wife was only 63 years old. Apparently, they were married for a good 30 years, which means she would have been in her thirties with a man in his sixties. I wonder what that would have been like back then? Now, it’s totally normal, but I bet it raised a few eyebrows 30 years ago.

Initially, the police said their deaths were not suspicious, but now they are. I wonder what happened there—I’ll definitely be interested to see how that unfolds.

The Pope is still alive, and his condition was improving, but he has had a setback. The way Sky News and Channel 7 reported it both shocked and pleased me.

Both of them said that the Pope "vomited," and then "inhaled some of that vomit," which made him sick again. The descriptions were so graphic, and I loved the disgustingness of it all.

China seems to be circumnavigating Australia and undertaking live-fire exercises. My mind briefly went down the rabbit hole of "What if they invade us?"—and that is not a nice thought.

My temporary fears were not relieved when the President and Vice President of our biggest ally teamed up in an act of pure thuggery and bullied President Zelensky of Ukraine for not saying a loud enough thank you for their help.

I have zero confidence that Trump would back us if we needed his help.

But now, I want to tell you about some ongoing news that has been troubling me...

Last week, Sky News conducted and televised an anti-Semitism summit. I didn't watch it all, but I caught snippets of it and thought to myself, why isn't there an Islamophobia summit? There are plenty of other forms of discrimination, some affecting people much worse than the Jewish population, but somehow, people focus on anti-Semitism.

Peter Dutton said something about how he thinks visas into Australia should be conditional on people not having partaken in anti-Semitism, and I just thought to myself, what a crock of shit. Of course, I think it's bad—no one deserves to be persecuted for any reason at all, really—but why are we singling out Jews?

I was talking to Miriam, who is the wife of my friend Hussein. Miriam and her two daughters wear the hijab, so they are noticeably Muslim, and she was telling me about how people come up to them on the street and make remarks like, "Go home, I hope you die." Miriam told me that just the other day, a man went up to their eldest daughter, who is 12 and was wearing a hijab, and made some anti-Islamic remarks to her that made her cry.

This kind of stuff is totally unacceptable. Why is it any less important than anti-Semitism? Our Aboriginal Australians or anyone with skin colour that is not white is at risk of serious racism and discrimination—why can't we make it a visa condition that we won't let anyone in who's been a discriminatory arsehole, full stop?

I've been thinking about anti-Semitism and both the Government and the opposition's response to it. I've also been thinking about the way Israel will claim that whoever criticises them is anti-Semitic.

I agree that there is a lot of anti-Semitism around, just as there is a huge amount of Islamophobia and other sorts of discriminatory behaviour and actions. I also don't think that the anti-Semitism going around at the moment is the traditional, "The Jews killed Jesus" or "The Jews want to steal all our money." I think it is very much the case that people are appalled by Israel's actions in Gaza, and that is making people hate Jews. I don't agree with anti-Semitism in any way and I don't share those views but that is why I think it's happening.

People say the protests at the universities and on the streets are anti-Semitic, but they're not—they are entirely reasonable objections to Israel killing tens of thousands of innocent Palestinians while trying to eradicate Hamas.

I personally wonder—if Mossad is that good, why can't they find another way to eliminate Hamas? I think we, as a democratic society, have a double standard about what we are willing to tolerate when it comes to questioning governments, whether it be here or in Israel.

For me, the situation in Israel holds up a mirror to the soul of the international community and shows us that we have a collective guilt over the Holocaust, and we are willing to let Israel get away with literally anything to make the guilt go away.

I'm not just talking about the war in Gaza—I'm talking about the occupation in the West Bank and East Jerusalem. I think the war, which is now coming to an end, was shocking. Protesters were deemed anti-Semitic while Israel ruthlessly killed tens of thousands of innocent civilians and then weaponised aid.

But what they are doing in the West Bank and East Jerusalem is apartheid. The more I come to understand the situation over there, the more I simply cannot understand how we, as an international community, can allow this to continue to happen.

I think about the settlers being strategically housed across the West Bank and East Jerusalem, making it close to impossible to form a Palestinian state. The devaluing of Palestinian lives as settlers are governed by Israeli civilian law, while Palestinians are governed by military law. What the actual fuck is going on? How is this not an international humanitarian emergency?

They have separate roads they have to drive on, checkpoints for Palestinians everywhere, and they are treated like vermin. But what gets me the most is the demolition of their houses.

Something like 99% of Palestinian applications for building permits are rejected, so they just go ahead and build the homes—which is reasonable, seeing as they have nowhere else to live. Then the Israeli government bulldozes those houses, citing that they don’t have permits.

On the flip side of that coin, settlers who don’t have a permit are accommodated with other avenues, and their problems are quickly solved. Palestinian land and homes are taken for Jewish settlers, and they are left homeless, having literally lost everything before their very eyes.

How can that be allowed to happen? What is the point of having International Humanitarian Law when there is no way to police it or hold governments and nations accountable for defying it?

You can pick your international tragedy—whether it's the war in Ukraine, the conflict in Sudan, or the global hunger crisis—but for me, the demolition of Palestinian homes in the West Bank and East Jerusalem is something that summarises who we are as a race of people.

We don’t care enough about the Palestinians to put a stop to it—and we could put a stop to it. America could withdraw its support for Israel until the exercise of demolishing houses comes to an immediate end. But the US would never do that, especially with Trump as President, who wants to buy the Gaza Strip and build luxury hotels across it. Trump made a point of saying that the Palestinians would not be allowed to return home there.

If you think about it, it’s got to suck to be a Palestinian person. They don’t have anywhere to call home, and people just keep attacking them from every direction. Countries like Australia also don't want to welcome them as refugees. They literally can't win.

Hamas is currently releasing hostages and returning the bodies of deceased ones in exchange for Palestinian prisoners. Something I was thinking about is a deal they had the other day where Hamas released four Israeli hostages, and in exchange, Israel freed 600 Palestinians.

I think that says something. It’s like they’re saying one Israeli life is worth all of those Palestinians. That, or Hamas has really good negotiating skills.

As you know, I've taken this year off to focus on my book. I am also focusing on my health—getting fit and losing weight.

The university has held my place for the Bachelor of Contemporary Art, which I think may be changing to Fine Arts next year—I'll have to wait and see. I don’t want to be an artist; I want to be a writer, but there are certain things I wish to express through conceptual artwork, and the demolition of Palestinian homes in the West Bank and East Jerusalem is one of them.

It was coincidental that yesterday, I was reading about Adelaide Writers' Week, and I saw a talk which is on today called "Islamophobia: What's the Problem?" by Waleed Aly, Susan Carland, and Mr. Aftab Malik.

Waleed Aly is from that show The Project, and Susan Carland is his wife. Mr. Aftab Malik is the Special Envoy to Combat Islamophobia in Australia.

I'm going to head off to that in about an hour, so I will write some comments about it when I get back.

I think it's funny the way the universe works. I got home from the talk earlier, and it really was serendipitous that it was on just as I started making comparisons between anti-Semitism and Islamophobia. It literally addressed everything I wrote about earlier. Below, you can see the advertisement for the talk, as well as a photo I took of the stage before it started, as no photography or video was allowed during the show.

It was held at the Town Hall, and a number of dignitaries were in attendance. The Governor, Frances Adamson AC DStJ, was there. Mum used to babysit her when she was a child, and when I was a child, I remember Governor Adamson's mother, Jennifer Cashmore, being a part of our lives.

Bob Carr was there. He is a former Premier of NSW and also the former Foreign Minister under the Gillard and Rudd governments. They mentioned a number of other people and then finished with Peter Garrett, former Midnight Oil lead singer, as well as a former Labor Member of Parliament and Minister for the Environment and Minister for School Education under the Rudd and Gillard governments consecutively.

I love the Midnight Oil song Beds Are Burning—I used to play it on repeat from a CD in my trusty old car.

The state Minister for the Arts, The Honourable Andrea Michaels, introduced the event and spoke about multiculturalism, especially in her electorate, Enfield.

After Minister Michaels, Mr. Aftab, the Special Envoy to Combat Islamophobia in Australia, gave a speech that set the tone for the high-profile married Muslim couple Waleed Aly and Susan Carland.

When Waleed and Susan sat down, the first thing they did was introduce the Aboriginal man—whose name escapes me—who gave the Welcome to Country. It was a good Welcome to Country, and I’ve not seen one like it before. He first welcomed us to the land but then shared explanations and reflections on things like how he and his family used to catch abalone for free. Later, he saw abalone being sold for hundreds of dollars per kilo and said he had to laugh to himself. He wanted to teach people how to eat it on a budget.

The conversation between Waleed and Susan began, and as they are both academics in some form, they spent some time discussing the term Islamophobia and what it actually meant.

Susan works on the Islamophobia Register, where people report incidents of Islamophobia, and she gave examples of some of the reports. These included things like people attempting to run Muslim individuals over with their car, a woman being attacked in a supermarket where someone tried to choke her with her own hijab, and more subtle incidents, such as comments like, "I hope all Palestinians die" directed at people who are visibly or known to be Muslim. She said the list was enormous.

She also mentioned that many people questioned the point of reporting such incidents, saying, "What's the point in reporting this when no one cares?"

They talked about exactly what I was saying—how anti-Semitism has become a huge issue. And Islamophobia is just as bad, if not worse, yet no one seems to be paying attention to it or viewing it as important.

One thing they mentioned was that Islamic scholars welcome respectful criticism of the religion, and that is not Islamophobia. That may be the case in some instances, but with my interest in religion, one thing I have never looked into is Islam because I feel like I can't criticise it without fear of reprisal. And maybe I'm wrong about that—I want to learn more.

Susan is a social scientist, and Waleed works on Channel 10’s The Project. I know he also lectures at one of the universities. The talk was incredibly educational, and I got a lot from it. They were a little bit academic, which I didn't like because I prefer people to speak in plain English, but apart from that, more than anything, it was just strange because it was literally about what I had just written about in this blog.

In contrast to today’s talk on Islamophobia, tonight there is a talk on anti-Semitism with Sir Simon Schama, but I decided not to go. I wasn’t being anti-Semitic by not going—I just had some things to do around the house and felt like staying in tonight.

Waleed mentioned a comment Liberal Senator Dave Sharma made on Sky News in December of last year:

"Any time any senior minister mentioned antisemitism in the last 12 months, they also mentioned a fictitious Islamophobia which was not going on."

In the same month, Opposition Leader Peter Dutton criticised Albo’s government for supporting a United Nations resolution that called for Israel to end its occupation of Palestinian territories, including the West Bank and Gaza. Dutton accused the government of "selling out" Israel to gain votes in western Sydney, stating that this move could damage Australia's relationship with Israel and the United States.

So, Peter Dutton supports the occupations. Does that mean the Liberal Party supports them too?