Articles tagged ‘Meditations’.
“The morning of May 18, 1902, was one of the worst that ever dawned in Killarney. All through the day a fierce nor’-wester raged, and huge whi...
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Every July I watch eagerly a certain country graveyard that I pass in driving to and from my farm. It is time for a prairie birthday, and in one corne...
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Lionel Rolfe In his latest book, Gerald Nicosia has unlocked the dynamic of Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady, and not a moment too soon. Nicosia, the aut...
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It’s CI’s birthday! Two. How would you live without us? Let us know! Congratulate us. Conditions of congratulating us: 1. No hate bloggers...
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By Jeremiah Ganicoche* You know when you’re facebook-stalking your ex and you find out that she’s married and your fucken world falls apart? Well,...
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A CERTAIN man was wont to tell his son, while thrashing him, that he would never come to any good. The boy grew tired of these rebukes, and ran away f...
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By Jeremiah Ganicoche It had been a short, hectic day and I was glad it was over. There were some reports I had not gotten around to but that my manag...
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By Jeremiah Ganicoche* How did it get like this? Tired of the way things are turning out? Do you think something is wrong but not sure what? Want to d...
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By Jan ‘Yarn’ Wositzky There’s a hidden history at Castlemaine. It’s where the political action that led to the Eureka Stockade began. Today ...
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By Edgar Allan Poe TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my se...
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By Jeremiah Ganicoche* I’ve never played Cluedo but if you were ever dealt my card that is what it would say. It’s a killer hand. They don’t tel...
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Episode 8, by Josie Emery The Tweet Files A month of writing, distilled from a Twitter diary. We tweet in 140 characters – including spaces and ...
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By Jeremiah Ganicoche* When I was 15, I saw my familiar spirit. My room was in a bungalow in the backyard and most nights around that age I would stay...
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Story is everything, everything is story Episode 7, by Josie Emery To read what follows. I offer Allen Ginsberg’s advice on such matters and paraphr...
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By T Crofton Croker Mrs Sullivan fancied that her youngest child had been exchanged by “fairies theft”, and certainly appearances warrante...
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By Josephine Emery Episode 6 The other day I gave a hitcher a lift from Castlemaine to Maldon. He was stumbling along the road carrying a metal detect...
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This story was submitted anonymously to CI. The writer appears seriously unhinged, but that hasn’t stopped us from publishing any of the others....
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Part 5 By Josie Emery I stand at the back door with my morning coffee in my hand. A bird bursts into song in the garden and then flutters from its tre...
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By T. Crofton Croker The ancient burial-place of the Cantillon family was on an island in Ballyheigh Bay. This island was situated at no great distanc...
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Episode 4, Josephine Emery I’m writing this in Sydney, at my old apartment to which I’ve returned to finalise moving out and returning to Maldon...
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By Anatole France* As I understand criticism it is, like philosophy and history, a kind of novel for the use of discreet and curious minds. And every ...
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Episode Three by Josephine Emery Stories. So many stories swarming in my head. How I envy Plato, Homer, Sophocles and all. They got in first. Well, th...
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Set in the historic house and gardens at Buda, the inaugural Castlemaine Children’s Literature Festival will take place in the second week of th...
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By Mary Pomfret Most writers know about this one. You go to the letterbox and you find a bank statement, the electricity bill and a brown envelope add...
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By Andrew McKenna (First published in Terra Incognita, a bilingual journal of literature, art and commentary) ‘But they didn’t kill him,’ I said...
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Part two by Josephine Emery Today I found I had written myself into a dead end. It was not a day of high inspiration. It was a ‘just do it’, kind ...
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By Andrew McKenna The shy mysterious poet Arthur Stace, Whose work was just one single mighty word. Arthur Stace started early, usually before ...
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By Josephine Emery I set up my writing station in the sunroom. Northerly aspect so it is light-filled all day. I filled the woodbox and tended the woo...
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By Rosa Raco I love old people. They regale you with stories of people and times long gone, offer you tea out of china cups and always have the time t...
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Is independent media important to you? At Castlemaine Independent we offer an independent, free news service. It’s free to subscribe and we want...
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There was once a pretty young girl with no husband, no father, no mother, no brothers, no kinsfolk: they were all dead and gone. She lived alone in a ...
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OF THE DIFFERENT WAYS OF LYING DOWN, AND VARIOUS KINDS OF CONGRESS On the occasion of a ‘high congress’ the Mrigi (Deer) woman should lie ...
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