Wightman

Grand Final day has always been a ritual. As youngsters with British parents, encouraged to support a VFL team to fit in, we chose by colour. Blue is my favourite, so Carlton FC it became – so close to my working-class roots… My brother chose a combination of colours – red, blue and yellow, ensuring the now defunct VFL/AFL team, Fitzroy Lions FC, was adored through brief moments of success, and long seasons of failure. He now passionately supports Richmond Tigers FC. Much to his chagrin, I will always consider him Brisbane Bears, sorry Lions… My mates and I have watched every grand final for as long we can remember. Combining good times with the consumption of enough small meat pies, sausage rolls and cocktail saveloys to ensure an intolerance to MSG. The beer of choice was once Carlton Cold, which I’m sure will make an anniversary comeback as boutique. We often devoured the Footy Marathon, the Under 19’s, the Reserves and the Seniors, briefly pausing for a break during the...

I wish I was an explorer. Although not particularly adventurous, nor skilled at survival, I’m reasonably practical, maybe useful at best. Heights, being late and feeling lost, scare me. All the attributes for adventure, one might ridiculously surmise. Antarctica would be my destination, laying claim to an undiscovered Ice Shelf. No one would ever call anything important, Brian, so perhaps Cold Rock… The continent has captivated me since childhood. It was ABC’s Behind the News that sparked my interest with our weekly task of preparing a report and accompanying illustrations (traced, in my case), an enjoyable task. Questioning why you would go to Antarctica was a topic of conversation and debate – after all its snow and ice, and solitude and hard work, and potentially death. Because you can, and some must – came the response. Multi-award-winning, Sophie Scott Goes South, is the most read story in our house. The author, Alison Lester, was the Antarctic Arts Fellow 2004/0...

Music consumes me. Remembering a day when there wasn’t music is impossible. A student once told me he couldn’t remember when Google didn’t search. For me, it’s music. Music defines who I am; it’s a routine, a habit. It reminds me of the worst times and makes me smile about the best. An elixir perhaps, art in purest form; moving, motivating, reflective and celebratory, often at the same time. For those who don’t understand, nor experience similar thoughts and feelings, I feel saddened for you. A love of music makes each day more enjoyable than perhaps it started out to be. So why does music connect even though we may never master an instrument nor replicate the sounds we hear and enjoy? It’s repetition and beat and rhythm that lingers in our soul and is awoken by our senses. Playing a song on repeat, for days, fails to bore me. A devotion to music began with vinyl; 45’s and 33’s, belonging to my dad – prized possessions prevented from turning because they were too precio...