I've been a little quiet on the freelancing front and this is why: I've been working on a little magazine called Run, Rabbit that will be launching online in December. I'm getting so excited at the quality and range of pitches coming through from talented folk not just from Brisbane, but from around the country and the world. It will be quite a bit of work to get going, but it never feels like it when your heart is behind a project.
Run, Rabbit will cross culture with compassion, craft and creativity with community. I haven't been able to find anything quite like what I want to achieve: something that speaks to my playful side, but also makes me think, engaging me in issues larger than myself without compromising on intelligence or patronising me. Something that doesn't then try to sell me something or tell me how to do my hair this month. So, I decided to make it myself. No products, no fashion, no beauty, no god damn celebrities, no hipster-snobbery or intellectual elitism. Just ordinary people with extraordinary ideas or talent, thought-provoking pieces sharing space with the silly and the mundane. Writers who share their beliefs, thoughts and experiences without trying so damn hard to seem irreverent. This is what I want to read, and I don't think I'm the only one.
To follow Run, Rabbit's progress, visit www.runrabbitmagazine.tumblr.com or find us on Facebook or Twitter.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Feature: 'Parks to put the roses in your cheeks' for The Courier Mail
16 September 2011
Vital escapes in busy cities, our world-class green spaces give us plenty of fresh reasons to play and relax, writes Anna Angel.
A BREATH of fresh air does a world of good, so get a few lungsful tomorrow, on World Parks Day.
Whether you fancy a cheap and adventurous camping weekend in a national park, a romantic picnic on the foredunes, or a family barbecue in a city park, the choice across Queensland is limitless.
David Clarke, CEO of Australia and New Zealand's leading parks organisation, Parks Forum, says healthy parks lead to healthy communities.
``Not only do they contribute to physical health, but also to mental health: exposure to the natural world is therapeutic,'' he says.
Queensland University of Technology community space expert Dr Gillian Lawson says councils recognise the importance of harnessing our natural blessings. ``We've got a strong tradition of sporting groups using parks, but not of a diverse range of physical activities that are much more widely accessible than a cricket match,'' Dr Lawson says.
But she praised Brisbane and Gold Coast councils for providing locals with fresh reasons pull out the picnic hampers.
One example is Brisbane City Council's LIVE arts program, which will see parks across the city play host to a mix of free music events throughout September.
Another is the city's Active Parks series with free and low-cost activities in more than 50 of the city's parks. The program varies throughout the week and comes alive on weekends.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Updates and inspirations: looking back on FPS 2010
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Updates and inspirations: The Isthmus, moving on, and so on and so forth
This semester (my last!) I am working within a team on an intelligent online pop culture journal called The Isthmus. I've put my hand up to be editor, so I'll be work-shopping ideas, producing general content and subbing as well as contributing. I'm so grateful for another chance to work with talented, interesting people on a project close to my heart while I remain a student.
The FPS site is about to be taken over, and it will be interesting to see where they take it this year. I don't want to get too misty-eyed about it - it's on to the next one for me - but I'll be posting up some screen grabs of the pages and designs so there's a record of the work we did last year. I'm also eagerly awaiting some exciting bylines upcoming this September. I have written again for the next issue of Voiceworks, and have put together a feature on one of my pet loves - traditional tattooing - for the second issue of Vintage Affair zine. All in all it September is always a great time of year, especially if you live where I do. The weather is nice, Brisbane Festival and Big Sound (which I should be reporting on) are both upcoming and I just got my business cards in the mail, making me, for all intents and purposes, an actual human being. Hooray!
Feature: 'The people and stories behind Greazefest' for Seam Magazine
A write-up I wrote on the culture behind events like Greazefest and the people who live (and love) it. View the original here at Seam Magazine's shiny new website.
“You’ve got to lean over the car like this,” a well-dressed woman in her sixties calls out to me, before demonstrating a classic pin-up pose on a bright red 1950s hot rod. As I poorly attempt to mimic her moves, she yells quick-fix beauty tips at me. From the outside, Greazefest, which takes over Brisbane for one weekend each year, is a carnival of vintage cars, modern pin-ups and poodle skirts. As Seam Magazine discovered, it is more so a celebration of the people keeping the old school dream alive by living and breathing it year-round.
Greazefest, now in its twelfth year, may be one of longest running and largest rockabilly and kustom kulture festivals in the Southern Hemisphere, but it’s by no means the only. Devotees from all corners have a calendar of events to roll up to, from Coffs Harbour’s annual Wintersun festival, Victoria’s Bright Rockabilly Ink and Oil and New Zealand’s largest nostalgia festival, Beach Hop. Come Monday morning, when the last car has left in a trail of smoke and the sun set on the festivities, Australia’s most dedicated revivalists don’t simply re-join the 21st century and return to the office.
“You’ve got to lean over the car like this,” a well-dressed woman in her sixties calls out to me, before demonstrating a classic pin-up pose on a bright red 1950s hot rod. As I poorly attempt to mimic her moves, she yells quick-fix beauty tips at me. From the outside, Greazefest, which takes over Brisbane for one weekend each year, is a carnival of vintage cars, modern pin-ups and poodle skirts. As Seam Magazine discovered, it is more so a celebration of the people keeping the old school dream alive by living and breathing it year-round.
Greazefest, now in its twelfth year, may be one of longest running and largest rockabilly and kustom kulture festivals in the Southern Hemisphere, but it’s by no means the only. Devotees from all corners have a calendar of events to roll up to, from Coffs Harbour’s annual Wintersun festival, Victoria’s Bright Rockabilly Ink and Oil and New Zealand’s largest nostalgia festival, Beach Hop. Come Monday morning, when the last car has left in a trail of smoke and the sun set on the festivities, Australia’s most dedicated revivalists don’t simply re-join the 21st century and return to the office.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Feature: 'Always room for write stuff' for The Courier Mail
Always room for write stuff
Anna Angel
Weekend writers' groups and workshops are ideal for being exposed to new ideas and networks, writes Anna Angel
ARE you a closet scribbler or a weekend pen-wielder? They say writing is a solitary profession, but don't quit your day job and retreat to the mountains just yet.
Whether or not you've put pen to paper in years or fancy yourself the next Agatha Christie, Nick Earls or J. K. Rowling, there's a workshop or writers' support group for you.
If there isn't, then start one yourself, says Nancy Cox-Milliner, who formed Writers of Seville more than 10 years ago.
``There was a real need for groups running on the weekend,'' she says. ``People who work during the week don't want to meet at night because that's their writing time.''
Now several writers' groups meet across Queensland at weekends. Most are open to all writers, while some cater to those who dabble in genres such as crime, romance or poetry.
Brisbane fantasy writer Marianne de Pierres co-formed Vision Writers more than 15 years ago. Open to writers of fantasy, sci-fi and speculative fiction, de Pierres says the group's ranks constantly replenish.
``People find it so exhilarating to know there are other people out there interested in the same thing they are,'' she says.
For Sarah Gory of Queensland Writers' Centre, a group's main benefit is fostering a sense of community and support.
Anna Angel
Weekend writers' groups and workshops are ideal for being exposed to new ideas and networks, writes Anna Angel
ARE you a closet scribbler or a weekend pen-wielder? They say writing is a solitary profession, but don't quit your day job and retreat to the mountains just yet.
Whether or not you've put pen to paper in years or fancy yourself the next Agatha Christie, Nick Earls or J. K. Rowling, there's a workshop or writers' support group for you.
If there isn't, then start one yourself, says Nancy Cox-Milliner, who formed Writers of Seville more than 10 years ago.
``There was a real need for groups running on the weekend,'' she says. ``People who work during the week don't want to meet at night because that's their writing time.''
Now several writers' groups meet across Queensland at weekends. Most are open to all writers, while some cater to those who dabble in genres such as crime, romance or poetry.
Brisbane fantasy writer Marianne de Pierres co-formed Vision Writers more than 15 years ago. Open to writers of fantasy, sci-fi and speculative fiction, de Pierres says the group's ranks constantly replenish.
``People find it so exhilarating to know there are other people out there interested in the same thing they are,'' she says.
For Sarah Gory of Queensland Writers' Centre, a group's main benefit is fostering a sense of community and support.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Column: 'Have your say' for The Courier Mail's Village Green
I wrote this earlier in the year, but it's funny, it seems all the more fitting that it was published now.
Anna Angel, Clayfield
AMONG the few early childhood memories I can recall is a family trip to Melbourne. As a kid from Nambour, the number of people shoving their way through the city centre floored me. On every intersection there were figures standing among the commotion, calling out. Mum seemed to be the only one who stopped. When I asked why nobody else saw them, she said it was because a lot of people aren't very nice. That's certainly turned out to be true. I just wish I didn't turn out to be one of them.
We're all guilty of compassion fatigue. This year especially, SES volunteers would have it something chronic, and a devastating sequence of natural disasters has stretched most of our donation budgets. We've all crossed the road to avoid someone wielding a clipboard, lest it's another damn charity. One thing we're supposed to be very good at as adults is being practical. We don't give away all our time or possessions and we no longer don a cape and try to fly (not often, anyway). But if you asked the five-year-old version of yourself whether they like who you've become, you're probably not going to like the answer.
Even if you're a pretty decent sort, we as ``grown-ups'' are boring, we make compromises and we can be awfully mean. I barely qualify as an adult in most cultures and I've already upset mini-me. I stared blankly past a homeless woman who asked politely for some change last week, because it was easier than meeting her eye. A handful of Hollywood movies centre on the premise of rediscovering your younger self but not many make for bearable viewing. It is interesting, though, to consider how differently we'd react at a crossroad if mature concerns such as money and duty didn't drive us. If you think your life would be much the same, congratulations.
In a year that's been as disaster-ridden as this one, there has never been a better time to step back and view the world through eyes that haven't yet learnt not to see. We can't regress to a naive mindset and damn the consequences, even if we want to. But we can promise our younger selves to do small things daily to please them, or to consider them in life's big decisions. And when the time comes for me to have kids of my own, I hope they'll forgive me for being such a bloody grown-up.
Anna Angel, Clayfield
AMONG the few early childhood memories I can recall is a family trip to Melbourne. As a kid from Nambour, the number of people shoving their way through the city centre floored me. On every intersection there were figures standing among the commotion, calling out. Mum seemed to be the only one who stopped. When I asked why nobody else saw them, she said it was because a lot of people aren't very nice. That's certainly turned out to be true. I just wish I didn't turn out to be one of them.
We're all guilty of compassion fatigue. This year especially, SES volunteers would have it something chronic, and a devastating sequence of natural disasters has stretched most of our donation budgets. We've all crossed the road to avoid someone wielding a clipboard, lest it's another damn charity. One thing we're supposed to be very good at as adults is being practical. We don't give away all our time or possessions and we no longer don a cape and try to fly (not often, anyway). But if you asked the five-year-old version of yourself whether they like who you've become, you're probably not going to like the answer.
Even if you're a pretty decent sort, we as ``grown-ups'' are boring, we make compromises and we can be awfully mean. I barely qualify as an adult in most cultures and I've already upset mini-me. I stared blankly past a homeless woman who asked politely for some change last week, because it was easier than meeting her eye. A handful of Hollywood movies centre on the premise of rediscovering your younger self but not many make for bearable viewing. It is interesting, though, to consider how differently we'd react at a crossroad if mature concerns such as money and duty didn't drive us. If you think your life would be much the same, congratulations.
In a year that's been as disaster-ridden as this one, there has never been a better time to step back and view the world through eyes that haven't yet learnt not to see. We can't regress to a naive mindset and damn the consequences, even if we want to. But we can promise our younger selves to do small things daily to please them, or to consider them in life's big decisions. And when the time comes for me to have kids of my own, I hope they'll forgive me for being such a bloody grown-up.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Column: 'The Chivalry Code - he says she says' for Biscuit Magazine
For the August issue of Biscuit Magazine, which you can read the lovely pages of here. This will be a regular feature that should be a lot of fun!
Chivalry committed suicide in an existential crisis a few years before the turn of the century. He couldn’t stop thinking back to the days he was respected among men and valued by women, wondering what his place was in this brave new world. He is survived by generations of men, unsure of how to navigate the courting phase of a relationship without him as a guide.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Interview: Dane Beesley for Tom Magazine
Read online here.
Splitting The Seconds.
Dane Beesley, the fly on the wall of Brisbane’s music scene, takes a break from preparing for the launch of his first photographic book - a scrapbook of the last decade in music - to chat to Anna Angel. It’s shaping up to be quite a party, with some of the rockers who feature in Beesley’s work heading along to help him celebrate and drink the booze. And why wouldn’t they? ‘Splitting the Seconds: a Photographer’s Journal’ catalogues not just Beesley’s own work, but the evolution of Brisbane’s culture as captured through his lens.
"It’s always been my dream to have a book, even when I was in college," Beesley says.
"I started in the film days keeping track of the exposures, writing notes to go with the photos, and just kept it going."
Scribbled notes and micro interviews on bar coasters compliment a retrospective of Beesley’s shots from the past decade, including the likes of Grinderman, The Lemonheads, Beyonce and Metallica.
"It’s pretty personal, but it’s also a really good time for Brisbane - there’s a lot of bands that I’ve worked with like The Grates, Powderfinger, and more recently Hungry Kids of Hungary, that it’s been great watching grow into international acts."
Having shot for street press and magazines like Rolling Stone, Beesley has become a part of the landscape, and now counts a handful of the artists he has worked with as close friends.
"I’m lucky to have made some really great friends but it’s hard having to charge for my jobs when it’s a friend’s band," he says. "It usually just ends up that they’ll buy me a carton of beer."
Splitting The Seconds.
Dane Beesley, the fly on the wall of Brisbane’s music scene, takes a break from preparing for the launch of his first photographic book - a scrapbook of the last decade in music - to chat to Anna Angel. It’s shaping up to be quite a party, with some of the rockers who feature in Beesley’s work heading along to help him celebrate and drink the booze. And why wouldn’t they? ‘Splitting the Seconds: a Photographer’s Journal’ catalogues not just Beesley’s own work, but the evolution of Brisbane’s culture as captured through his lens.
"It’s always been my dream to have a book, even when I was in college," Beesley says.
"I started in the film days keeping track of the exposures, writing notes to go with the photos, and just kept it going."
Scribbled notes and micro interviews on bar coasters compliment a retrospective of Beesley’s shots from the past decade, including the likes of Grinderman, The Lemonheads, Beyonce and Metallica.
"It’s pretty personal, but it’s also a really good time for Brisbane - there’s a lot of bands that I’ve worked with like The Grates, Powderfinger, and more recently Hungry Kids of Hungary, that it’s been great watching grow into international acts."
Having shot for street press and magazines like Rolling Stone, Beesley has become a part of the landscape, and now counts a handful of the artists he has worked with as close friends.
"I’m lucky to have made some really great friends but it’s hard having to charge for my jobs when it’s a friend’s band," he says. "It usually just ends up that they’ll buy me a carton of beer."
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Feature: 'Til It's Gone' - Biscuit Magazine
For issue 10, read online.
Another glossy silver sticker and a tally mark on the back jacket; I was in the lead. ‘Bucket lists’ of things to do, see or taste in your lifetime are meant as more of a guide than a red flag to a wasted life. When my partner and I discovered 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die in 2008 we took the challenge to heart. That holiday we read our way through scores of classics, marking them with colour-coded stickers. The phase eventually passed, but a few weeks ago I rediscovered the list. I can’t recall ever reading Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, but there it was – my trademark silver dot beside the title. It seems I was so concerned with adding notches to my bookcase that I didn’t even make time to enjoy the conquest. Certainly, people are capable of extraordinary feats and insights when faced with their own mortality, but (sorry, Tolstoy) I don’t think skimming over War and Peace counts among them.
Terminally-ill fifteen-year-old Alice Pyne saw an outpouring of support when she posted her ‘bucket list’ online last month. Her blog gained media attention almost overnight, and already thousands of dollars have been donated to charities on her behalf, and businesses have stepped up to help fulfil her wishes. The UK teenager recognizes some of her goals (such as travelling to Kenya) will never be achieved, but the simplicity of most of her dreams is positively moving. Simple things many would take for granted, or even bemoan, are for her a source of hope and fulfilment. Sure, we think it would be nice to have a family portrait taken, to go whale watching, or perhaps stay in a caravan, but life always seems to get in the way. Until, of course, it doesn’t. Alice’s story seems to have struck a chord because she’s realised so young something it takes most of us a lifetime to learn.
While our neighbours in Christchurch are facing one disaster after another, Japan is struggling to come to terms with their biggest catastrophe since the Hiroshima bombings, four months after the first tremors hit. When the survivors are finally able to rebuild their lives, many will choose radically different foundations. Around a quarter of disaster victims experience what’s known as post-traumatic growth – positive changes following adversity. This isn’t to say their suffering is lessened, but that they foster a renewed sense of purpose, spirituality and a greater appreciation of their life and relationships. Perhaps this explains CNN reports that the number of people seeking partnership and marriage in Japan has dramatically increased since the March 11 disasters, creating a sharp spike in sales of engagement and wedding rings. Bride-to-be Maki Maruta was quoted as saying “the disasters reminded me the importance of family. It’s so important to have someone who is precious to you.”
UK researcher Laura Blackie recently conducted a study where she asked participants to reflect on their own death and monitored their behaviours. She concluded in Psychological Science that thoughts of mortality, “can be one of the best gifts we have in life, motivating us to embrace life and embrace goals that are important to us”. But often when we’re isolated from disaster, it’s easy for that inspiration to disappear as quickly as the channel is changed to Bargain Hunt repeats.
In the process of writing this article I almost lost my Grandma who, up until that point, hadn’t been on speaking terms with most of my immediate family for reasons I still struggle to comprehend. Differences were put aside on the hospital bed, but now she’s been given the clear bill of health the hostility rages on. While the scare seemed to shake them into a temporary realisation that life is much too short to hold grudges, they’ve been given more time and so, more time to be stubborn. Perhaps it is this same logic that sees many of us put off our biggest aspirations day after day, assuming we always have tomorrow. But if you didn’t, what would you have done differently today?
Another glossy silver sticker and a tally mark on the back jacket; I was in the lead. ‘Bucket lists’ of things to do, see or taste in your lifetime are meant as more of a guide than a red flag to a wasted life. When my partner and I discovered 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die in 2008 we took the challenge to heart. That holiday we read our way through scores of classics, marking them with colour-coded stickers. The phase eventually passed, but a few weeks ago I rediscovered the list. I can’t recall ever reading Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, but there it was – my trademark silver dot beside the title. It seems I was so concerned with adding notches to my bookcase that I didn’t even make time to enjoy the conquest. Certainly, people are capable of extraordinary feats and insights when faced with their own mortality, but (sorry, Tolstoy) I don’t think skimming over War and Peace counts among them.
Terminally-ill fifteen-year-old Alice Pyne saw an outpouring of support when she posted her ‘bucket list’ online last month. Her blog gained media attention almost overnight, and already thousands of dollars have been donated to charities on her behalf, and businesses have stepped up to help fulfil her wishes. The UK teenager recognizes some of her goals (such as travelling to Kenya) will never be achieved, but the simplicity of most of her dreams is positively moving. Simple things many would take for granted, or even bemoan, are for her a source of hope and fulfilment. Sure, we think it would be nice to have a family portrait taken, to go whale watching, or perhaps stay in a caravan, but life always seems to get in the way. Until, of course, it doesn’t. Alice’s story seems to have struck a chord because she’s realised so young something it takes most of us a lifetime to learn.
While our neighbours in Christchurch are facing one disaster after another, Japan is struggling to come to terms with their biggest catastrophe since the Hiroshima bombings, four months after the first tremors hit. When the survivors are finally able to rebuild their lives, many will choose radically different foundations. Around a quarter of disaster victims experience what’s known as post-traumatic growth – positive changes following adversity. This isn’t to say their suffering is lessened, but that they foster a renewed sense of purpose, spirituality and a greater appreciation of their life and relationships. Perhaps this explains CNN reports that the number of people seeking partnership and marriage in Japan has dramatically increased since the March 11 disasters, creating a sharp spike in sales of engagement and wedding rings. Bride-to-be Maki Maruta was quoted as saying “the disasters reminded me the importance of family. It’s so important to have someone who is precious to you.”
UK researcher Laura Blackie recently conducted a study where she asked participants to reflect on their own death and monitored their behaviours. She concluded in Psychological Science that thoughts of mortality, “can be one of the best gifts we have in life, motivating us to embrace life and embrace goals that are important to us”. But often when we’re isolated from disaster, it’s easy for that inspiration to disappear as quickly as the channel is changed to Bargain Hunt repeats.
In the process of writing this article I almost lost my Grandma who, up until that point, hadn’t been on speaking terms with most of my immediate family for reasons I still struggle to comprehend. Differences were put aside on the hospital bed, but now she’s been given the clear bill of health the hostility rages on. While the scare seemed to shake them into a temporary realisation that life is much too short to hold grudges, they’ve been given more time and so, more time to be stubborn. Perhaps it is this same logic that sees many of us put off our biggest aspirations day after day, assuming we always have tomorrow. But if you didn’t, what would you have done differently today?
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