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Keywords: Diane Fahey

  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Dancer

    • Diane Fahey
    • 02 August 2021
    2 Comments

    I'm standing before the portrait of a woman with closed eyes, her hands delicately cupping, almost, her tilted head. In her face, in her composure, a flower-like serenity that speaks of care, reverence.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Clean on the surface

    • Gayelene Carbis
    • 16 March 2021
    8 Comments

    We will go to the laundry and finish coffee in time for the clothes to finish the wash cycle. This is called catching up with my father. He would say you don’t do this — you just don’t do that — talk about your dirty laundry in public.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    No details known

    • Diane Fahey
    • 02 March 2021
    32 Comments

    Only Masaccio, the painter who first used light to sculpt the human form, portrayed this story. The disciple, Peter, walks through a Florentine street past three afflicted men.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Heart sparks

    • Diane Fahey
    • 09 March 2020
    3 Comments

    I remember, in the small hours, a spill of arcane patterns on the glass — heart-sparks treasuries of hallowed grief, of yet-to-be-lived hope, sequestered in the infinite.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    The last year

    • Diane Fahey
    • 19 January 2016
    2 Comments

    They'd stopped by then, your half-filled crosswords with their fey surmises — inspired leaps from the backs of routine clues ... I glimpsed alcoves of dusty treasure: kris — 'Malayan dagger'; obi — 'a Japanese sash'; écus — 'old French coins'. You summoned bird names from the air: rhea, erne; had the secrets of ponds and streams at your fingertips: eft, orfe, elver ... 'open', 'small seeds'; six letters. You would have got that.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    In memory of Leo

    • Diane Fahey
    • 24 March 2015
    8 Comments

    'If I'm deported back to Sri Lanka, torture is certain because I'm a Tamil.' On the day I hear of Leo's death I pass a tall maple, its star-like leaves, blood-red and flame-red, irradiated. The Australian government refused the visas applied for by Leo's family so that they might attend his funeral. As three Tamil men at a microphone sing a long hymn in Tamil the Basilica fills with an undertow of sound.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Sitting in a room with my mother and father

    • Diane Fahey
    • 03 February 2015
    2 Comments

    The wind a cool shadow felt at my back: when the sun’s blaze slams into my chest, I am held between them as if both would claim me, pass through me. So grief, with its heart-heat, its pressuring shadows, lays claim, passes into and through us.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Birdwatcher's odyssey

    • Diane Fahey
    • 03 May 2011
    3 Comments

    those hypnotic swerves, a mark of dominion like all else: its height, its eight-foot span, its primeval patience. The eagle turned, an archer's bow; became a bold emblem that could impress the red seal on a document of war; rip out an eye.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Shoulder angels

    • Diane Fahey
    • 14 December 2010
    3 Comments

    The one on the left, wearing crimson tights, promises the world, probes with his pitchfork for hidden desires, sports a prehensile tail able to wrap around your mind ... his counterpart, in snowy alb, meditates on your right shoulder, sending into your soul's bloodstream a thirst for peace ...

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Power flowers

    • Diane Fahey
    • 10 August 2010
    3 Comments

    After I'd reached the Top .. why didn't they save me .. from Boardroom Rivals .. plotting to bring me down?

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    The birds I can't quite like

    • Diane Fahey
    • 25 August 2009
    4 Comments

    The birds I can't quite like, that symbolise .. cold self-intent, greed, the scalding primal .. writ small: drama queens and morsel-pirates .. at odds after the picnic — scraps about scraps.

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  • ARTS AND CULTURE

    Modern feminist dialogue wears ladylike veneer

    • Frances Devlin-Glass
    • 02 May 2008

    It will be difficult for bookshops to house The Mystery of Rosa Morland, as its genre is a wonderful hybrid of crime fiction and poetry. The verse novel represents a very modern feminist take on sexual and actual violence within marriage.

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