Nice to see you.

2018 Best New Talent - Short and Sweet Festival Sydney
2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)


Growing up in the 60s and beyond - bABY bOOMERS

Nostalgia Video 

#3 / 10

Growing Up Baby Boomers in 1960's Australia

Footage sourced (mostly) from YouTube

Re-edited by myself with All Australian Music;

Billy Thorpe - Over the Rainbow
Bee Gees - I started a Joke
The Seekers - The Carnival is Over

Number 1 here

Number 2 here

All Nostalgia Videos


I need your opinion on these Reality TV ideas

I’m working on scripts for several pilots…

Yep, they're just like us

Reality TV

A goldmine of cheap production and crappy ideas, shipped internationally, remade locally, for endless season after season. No quality writing required. Get a bunch of superficial, so called good looking arso-holics, put them together and video the result.

I thought I'd cash in on this phenomenon.

The first idea is a take on My Kitchen Rules.

My Toilet Rules

A panel sits around (and on) the bowl and see who can deliver the best number twos. Points to be judged on; consistency, texture, smell and um, taste. Ensure that the contestants are also assholes, to make sparks (and flatulence) fly.

Dancing with the Cars

Find the most annoying contestants, and the busiest motorway and have them perform complex dances across it (and hopefully, removing them from the gene pool before they breed).

Auditioning for Dancing with the Cars. 
Folks, we have a winner!

The Really Real Housewives (and Husbands)

Film some actual housewives (or dudes), of lowly income, doing it tough with a whole bunch of kids, no cleaners, or airs and graces, no hairspray, lippie, foundation or man gel. Instead highlight vacuuming, sweeping, doing dishes, washing and hanging out clothes, making kids lunch, dealing with screaming, crying, ass wiping, pets tearing up the furniture and stuff like that. You know, the shit that normal people have to do.

Cops (Off Duty)

Follow these cops as they come home from the front line, grab a beer or soda pop, plop their ass on the couch and watch the football, maybe shred a dumbbell, eat some chips then burp, fart and scratch their sweaty bits.

The Fake News

It’s the polar opposite of what happens now, (Fox NEWS, CNN, wherever). So we call it The Fake News, but make it as truthful and unbiased as possible. If it all possible.
Actually, forget it.

Married at First Blight,

Divorced at First Argument

Fitting in with the times, with people being unable to get past any difficulties in relationships. We find out who can stomach a difference of opinion, and who pussies out the fastest. Use real people in love, but whom love themselves more.

The Bachelor

Follow an ugly, obese, filthy loser and discover why he’s a Bachelor… and likely to remain one.

The Bachelorette

See above.

The Jersey Shore Cliff

Image result for plastic people

Find the most vain, narcissistic, awfully plastic people possible, take them to the Cliffs of Jersey Shore and last one down, (in the fastest way possible) is the winner. 

The first series ended quickly as they all wanted to win so badly
that they pushed each other off in a mass extinction event. The winner? The audience!

Project Runway

Take a bunch of superficial skinny ass models, and drop them in a country plagued by famine to see what it's like to really starve.

Freelances in a school Science class as a skeleton.

Coming soon,

A New Video in the wonderful series of Nostalgia Videos of an era we'll never see again,

An addition in the surprising and rather sad series, Famous After Death

My Short Film  UNTOLD from 1997 on the confusion of Political Correctness and interpersonal relationships

plus more...! But no steak knives.

Her Death Wish - Parts 3 and 4

The Heart of Living and Dying

A Journey in Four Stages

Death is not our friend, or our enemy, but our foreshadower


Her Death Wish

(Parts 3 and 4) 

(Parts 1 and 2 here) 

iii)                   end

What did it stand for? What did it mean?
Is it supposed to have meaning? Is it about survival? If this is true, why do we dream? Hopes, desires, you can visualise it, almost touch it... And if we know that many of our dreams, like our fears, are never realised, then how many of us are walking around unfulfilled? Getting to the end of our lives, whenever that may be, and realising that we are deflated. Short of our potential. Merely a reach - a mad scramble for our goals, partial success, only to be ultimately left short... empty of hand.
Sure some achieve little victories, perhaps even all but are we satisfied to leave it at that? For as long as the heart beats, it continues to yearn.

Perhaps this is why people settle for second best. It’s easier to capitulate and have some control, then to smile under the crushing weight of disappointment. At the end, most will justify their position, no matter where they sit on the imbalanced scale of society’s wealth... and be content with it.
Deep within, under the layers of frustration (and justification) lies the heart of the question. Niggling, annoying, never to wholly let go…

What if?

What if you were meant to do more? What if you had made different decisions? Who could you have been? Where could you have gone? Who could you have been with?
The age arrives, when there is more behind than forwards.

Precious time shooting by, not savoured, (When you’ve barely worked out who you are)

... and before long, there is too much time. A slower pace, relaxed, but strangely not as satisfying.

And now that the silence that you could only once fantasise about..
Is all around you
You’ll do almost anything to break it.

Snippets of memories
Like shredded, jumbled paper
Some inconsequential
But as real as today
Others blurred, many forgotten
Here comes the fear
Of being unwanted
Of being irrelevant
And all the while, the body wears down
Betraying you
You feel for those left behind
As though stranded in the airport
But other times you’re only worried your mortality 
And it’s possible brevity
It’s the most frightening thing you can think of.

The celestials dogfight
Theologians debate
The Gods tussle over ownership of your soul
But there’s only one truth
And that is yours
Just don’t tell me how it is.

The sun is setting
And all your musings count for naught
It’s down to the inevitable
The realisation is crushing beyond compare
All that’s left
Are the times before...

iv)                Epilogue – the girl

There was no one else, only her.
A lone carriage shooting across the plains.
As she came to the juncture…
It felt the only way.

“I’ve got to be going now. And that’s ok.”

She sat down
In the afternoon shadow of her grandmother’s house
And tried
And tried

To relinquish her pain

Through a finality.

...and yet she did not succeed. Something held her back, just enough. There was something else. A hint. A tease... nothing substantial...
...but just enough. 
Not an epiphany.  A gust of wind. A truck in the distance. Something.
 For a moment, the world looked different. And it gave her pause. It gave her... hope. There was time. Perhaps it was all she had, but as long as she had time…

She had survived.
Ready to begin again.

Part of the epic artwork Rebirth by Manabu Ikeda

This Death Project as it was originally known, was written ten years ago (2009). This is the first time that anyone has read it. No use sitting in a folder. As to what inspired it, I've forgotten. To be honest, I find it a little simplistic now but it's worth showing.

Most of the images were also sourced at that time, except for this last one.

More Poetry 

Her Death Wish

The Art of Living and Dying.

A Journey in Four Stages

Death is not our friend, nor our enemy, but our foreshadower


Her Death Wish

(Parts 1 and 2) 

i)                   Prologue – the girl

She stands at a juncture. The most critical she has ever faced. And yet it doesn’t feel that dramatic. The decision to end her own life was slow in coming. She had battled a myriad of illnesses throughout her childhood, yet all stemming from the one issue. She had never experienced/possessed/felt, what others had. 

Despite the complications over the years, the moment is simple. It is pure. She has never felt so clear. This, coming after further discord – the years of teenage chaos. It was overwhelming - the emotions of an attractive young girl’s world, with its convoluted web of relationships, dramas and tears. 

Yet, in sincere reflection, she knew she couldn’t have been more wrong. It was frivolous. Juvenile. And now that she has arrived at this point, all her suffering seemed just as pointless. It did not need to continue. There is another way. It makes the most sense to her.
“I don’t mind so much. It’s my choice. It’s impossible to be happy all the time. And I’m going to a better place.”
All that remained, was a question of how.

ii)                   Us

The Beginning of Dissatisfaction
Shattered from Comfort
Ripped from the only authentic Heaven
With all needs catered for.
From a warm, luminescent Red
To abrasive White
Biting open atmosphere (Exposed, Cold?)
An aching hunger
The first sensations of Fear.
Strange, encompassing Sensations
Shapes undefined and unsparing Smells.

And an understanding of blurred Faces
Touch, comfort of skin, relief in the Familiar, frustrating restrictions of the Body,
Confusion of Perspectives, the urge to shit and the satisfaction of it.
Kick, roll, simple joys of play, sounds, the sweetness of melody
Delight in known faces, luxury in routine.
To crawl and want more.

To Grow, Sleep, Dream.

A stumble, a victory.
A fall, a fail, a Nightmare. Terror and tears.
A desire, a need, a perpetual feed.
A want and a step.
To Walk, (finally), upon grass.
To copy, imitate and shape.
To verbalise those inner feelings.

To kid around with Kids.
Who become your Friends
And Enemies
While the Wind tickles your skin
The Sun makes you squint
The Schoolyard where all things are possible
And the restrictions never more keenly felt
The classroom to comprehend and confuse
Why? Not fair. Me. Mine. No.

Practice, Lament. A wish for more
Change, the ever constant.
Flesh altering, uncertainty, insecurity.
A divergence in bodies
Inevitable comparisons
A metamorphosis, pimples, pubes, pus and previews
Blood and semen and seismic shifts
The world awaiting and repelling
A blunder through it
Where to be, who to be
So much to choose from
But is it you?

An invention of self
To Fit In
Or brave it alone
A place of your own
If it exists.

To love
To long (so much longing)
To be on the outside
Not wanting to be in
But hurting because you’re not.

A merging with another
Because the inner calling is louder
Than the appeal
Of the recipient.
Placing all your hopes in one basket
A surrender to impulse
A heart is hurting
If not yours,
Soon will be.

The Exultation of Bodies and the senses sublime
The study, the experimentation
The acquisition of knowledge
The frustration of finances
Merged into the workforce
To yield and to harvest
An ideal foreign
Contrary to yours
Already moulded by upbringing.

The conditioning of Country
A culture ingrained
A wedding, a death
A family departed
The finality of it
A blind eye is easier.

And then there are Dreams
The devastation of Rejection
There’s somebody else with more
And you want more
And what you Need
And what you desire
Are two different states.

The Conflict within your soul
Never lets you forget what you are
Even if you are still learning
Exactly who…

The years fall away
And love may find you
And it may not
And the world is deviating
Though you know it’s really the same
And your perspective shifts again
Only if you knew then
What you know now
And the responsibility of that
And all the rest.

The solace in forgiving
The enchantment in wisdom
The more you acquire
The less time there is to utilise it.
And before you are ready to accept it
To pass on what you know,
Your turn has come
Even if no one is listening.

There is a will
A catastrophic urge
To leave a part of yourself behind
To have it
Not been for nothing
Because you know that you’re dying a little every day
And soon there will be no more time
And you’ll wish for more
Or maybe you won’t
But yet, still, you must accept      
With no small level of apprehension
That your story cannot be changed
That it has all come to this…

(to come Parts 3 and 4)

death or the threshold 64

The King - He's about to get Medieval - A very short film

Watch at your own risk. It may change you forever! 

During the post Christmas holidays, my 8 year old read a list of things to do when you're bored. So she wrote a play. We performed it for the neighbours. It was funny. So I decided to film it.

Filming is boring and after an hour my daughter was bored. But The King insisted we push on!
It took about four hours. My neighbour created the music for the opening and closing credits. 
It took me about a week or so to put it together. And now you're the lucky recipient! haha
We had a little premiere. Silly fun.  Hope you liked it.

The genuine short film I made with her early in 2018, MISSED, will be uploaded before the year is out. Plus an old short film I've never made publicly available before. UNTOLD. 
All coming soon. 

Pictures of Old Sydney - 1900's and Beyond

Nostalgia Video #2 / 10

Music by Michael Nyman.

The Series will continue approximately monthly.

More Nostalgia Videos