Beyond belief






He wishes his poetry bled as profusely

As her heart

Wishes he had as many words to spill across the page

As her tears

He would show the world something real

And as raw as her soul

Could he but comprehend a fraction

Of all she contains

But he has to accept his limitations

A poor poet grappling with a world

He could never have dreamed.





Words and image are my own.








What’s so funny ’bout peace, love, and understanding?





Here comes another winter


Keep arguing

Keep believing you are right

That the other side are all fools

Or worse, evil

That only you and your gang know what’s what

Keep thinking you’ve cornered the market on wisdom

That your beliefs are the beliefs of all right-thinking people

That anything else is mental illness or psychopathy

You are infallible

And they need to shut up

It’s only elitist when they do it

Only racist when they say it

Only wrong when it conflicts with your dogma

Just keep right on dividing

See how far it gets you.






Words and image are my own.






The Lean Years 1


You’re my only friend…and you don’t even like me.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I was once a cartoonist for the Australian music magazine Juke. I threatened in that post to republish some of the work I did back then and the time has come to make good on my threat.

Over the following months, I’ll be putting out an installment a week. I’ve cleaned them up a little but they’re basically the same strips that were published in Juke.

At this point, they are more of a historical curiosity than a contemporary take on band life but I still like to think they have a certain period charm. Just for fun, I’ll publish each with a track I was listening to at the time I was writing and drawing them.

Hope you enjoy.


Lean years 1 001 colour 2 .jpg


The artwork and characters featured in this strip are my personal IP and may not be reproduced or distributed without my express permission. ©1990-2016



Parts 2 & 3

We are alive



Proof of life



Bright leaves, backlit by the sun

Rendered translucent yet somehow more vital

Their thin insubstantiality shot through with living veins

Making food from light and

Bleeding oxygen

The mewing of a newborn kitten

Eyes tight shut against that same light

Seeking sustenance from mother’s teat

In competition from first instance

With brother and with sister

This love that surges in my veins

The pounding need within heart

And loins

This seed that swims determinedly

Towards genesis


Life is an artist

Containing a multiplicity of expression.






When you walk in the room


Welcome to my parlour


Deborah Conway has been an iconic name in Australian music since the 80s. Her band Do-Ré-Mi burst upon the scene with the single Man Overboard in 1985 bringing a sophisticated sound to what was at the time an overly disposable pop scene. That band didn’t really go the distance despite a truly unique sound and the pinup looks of the sultry-voiced Conway. Their music, however, remained memorable and seemed to become more significant as time went by.



The next time I saw Deborah was in 1991. She was giving an impressive vocal performance in Peter Greenaway’s movie Prospero’s Books, followed that same year by a wonderful album of pure pop (String of Pearls).



But it was with the album, Summertown (2004) that Deborah and her life and musical partner Willy Zygier did something truly interesting. They began to play people’s homes. I’m not sure if this is a phenomenon that began overseas but at the time I’d never heard the like (here in Melbourne, it reputedly began with musician Matt Walters who eventually created a website to bring punters and musicians together).

For a reasonable fee, you could get the famous duo to play in your living room (or backyard) and invite the neighbours over for the gig – come – party.

Conway and Zyger used this gimmick to promote their album to great effect. And other bands followed suit. Now, I love music as I’m sure is obvious by the content I post. And to me, this was just the most wonderful idea I’d ever heard (I recently saw an online competition with the prize being a living room gig by U2).

Soon after hearing about this fascinating new approach to live music I actually caught Deborah and Willy at a more traditional venue, the Northcote Social Club (At the time – though sadly no longer – the closest thing to seeing a band in the living room you could get in Melbourne) The show was exactly what I’d hoped and at the end of the gig, there was Deborah herself selling and signing copies of the album.

I said, “I really didn’t expect to see you doing this.”

And she quite sensibly replied, “why not? Someone has to do it.”

All of this had me thinking about how overblown the music INDUSTRY has become in most people’s eyes. After all, these are just people like you and I doing what they love. Why can’t it all be as intimate as a Livingroom gig or a chat with a fan after the show?