Hidden in Plain Sight Zine

THEATRE + MUSIC + SPOKEN WORD + DANCE

We would like to Acknowledge the sacred soil we write, stand, speak and connect upon. We would like to acknowledge the sacred and timeless connection Whadjuk Noongar people have to this place, Walyalup. We pay our deep respects to Elders past & present. We acknowledge sovereignty was never ceded, and a treaty was never signed. We tell our stories on this land holding all Whadjuk Noongar Elders in our hearts, who have cared for this Country for a milenia, who still do. We acknowledge the ongoing effects of Colonisation, it is happening now, it has not ended.

We are grateful to humbly join a tradition of oral storytelling that has occurred upon this land for a thousand generations. We would like to thank the Whadjuk Noongar people, who’s land we are visitors upon. We acknowledge our Elders, from lands across the oceans, from cultures shared in different tongues, who’s spirit we keep alive in this new home. We thank Whadjuk Noongar boodjar (land), this land we hold in our koort (heart).

Always was, always will be.

Aboriginal land.

Wanjoo/Welcome to 10 Nights in Port, Walyalup’s warming winter festival which sets the town aglow every year with music, sensory splendour, fire, ceremony and art.

We live and love in a special place. We don’t own it, it owns us. Our festival reflects the fierce creative power of our town and in turn our collective ownership and the strength of our community. It’s when we come together to share with each other and the wider world. At the creative heart of this festival is a deep consideration of ways to lighten and brighten each other’s lives, to showcase unique local stories and focus on pathways forward.

You’ll find space for these contemplations at 10NIP23 but also spaces

This year’s festival presents some sparkly favourites and some new experiences. Our program is formed by creators and cultural leaders who vision better worlds. They use their knowledge, art forms, skills, strategies and community to take us there. We’re so grateful for our many creative partners, artists and producers who are working with us to bring you this year’s festival.

From the inside to the outside and back again, we invite you to celebrate Fremantle/Walyalup with us. Be it a soundtrack, a story, a gig, an experience, an event, a place, join in the adventure – take part or just enjoy the view. You can do it your way, warm with friends or warm by a fire. We’ll be lighting them for you.

EBONY JONIVUMA AYO RUSHIL PAVAN SEPSI MWABA PERUN TAJE SUKHJITJOEL

Ebony is a multidisciplinary artist. She has worked as a performer with theatre companies across Australia such as Malthouse Theatre, Melbourne Theatre Company, Yirra Yaakin Theatre Company, Illbi- jerri Theatre, La Boite and Black Swan State Theatre. She first dipped her toes into the world of poetry writing in 2017 when she lived in Melbourne, where she spent time writing and popping into poetry events such as Mother Tongue and many more. In her learning of Noongar language, intertwining it into her writing and poetry came naturally. The beauty and core meaning of each word in Noongar Daa opened up a freedom of flow which allowed her to express and share her world in more ways than one. In sharing her poetry and speaking her people’s language, a language that belongs to this land, she hopes to also share the beauty and resilience of Noongar words.

POET POET

Joni - I’m a poet, artist, community organiser, zine maker and broadcaster born and based in Boorloo! I grew up in the poetry, music and activist communities of Perth and I’ve been kicking around making my own stuff since 2012. I’ve performed and published far and wide with my po- etry and run a huge range of legal and illegal music and poetry nights. I’m a proud trans woman and advocate for the trans community.

As a young woman living in Perth, Vuma has always found herself engaging with the stories around her as a form of entertainment, learning and to gain empa- thy. She is an emerging writ- er and avid storyteller. Her work has been published in SBS Voices, Black Ballad UK, and the Centre for Stories anthology, Under the Paving Stones, the Beach. Vuma can be found on Instagram, @diaspora_reader. Her love for community lead her to start her Book Club, @afroheritagebookclub – a space for Africans living in Australia to engage with the works of Black writers from the African continent and throughout the African diaspora.

POET POET

Mohammed ‘Ayo Busari’ (He/Him) is a Nigerian-born award-winning Creative Director, Visual Artist, Writer, Community Curator & Performer who is the founder and lead creative of TAB Family. Previously living and working in Nigeria and the UK, he is now based in Boorloo. As a creative artist, Ayo Busari, alongside his alter-ego, ‘Yoruba Daddy’, are all about capturing moments and memories through words, images, and sounds. Whether it be photography, filmmaking, music-making, designing, live performances or writing. He’s an all- around multidisciplinary creative, expressing himself through these different art forms and genres. Ayo has exhibited his art at the Cool Change Contemporary, the first being part of the Soul Alphabet artists for their ‘Project 54’ Project in September 2021, the second being part of the TAB Family’s ‘This is Family’ Project From April-May 2022 and the most recent This is Family Exhibition in July 2023 at Moores Building Contemporary Art Gallery. He has also performed as a spoken word artist, musician and DJ at multiple venues including Fremantle Arts Centre, State Theatre Centre of WA, The Bird, Story Lounge – Centre For Stories, Pigeonhole, Cool Change Contemporary, The Sewing Room, Rosemount Hotel, Paper Mountain, The Rechabite, Mojos Bar, Sonar Room, Freo Social and more. His writings and visuals have been published on the second print edition of Pulch Mag, as well as various online magazines, blogs and websites including Grok Magazine (AUS), Pulch Mag (AUS) Trident Media (UK), Lucid Lemons (NG), Awe Lagos (NG), Native Mag (UK & NG) and many others.

Rushil D’cruz (aka SUSHI) is a rap artist and writer based in Boorloo. He began working in hip-hop in 2017 and in the Boorloo live music scene from 2019 to 2021. His work deals with ideas of mythology, reli- gion and humanity’s place in the natural world and draws inspiration from industrial hip-hop and metal.

MUSICIAN POET

Pavan Kumar Hari is a composer, performer, dancer, actor and director who creates vibrant, dynamic, expressive and dramatic music for theatre, film, dance and the concert hall. In 2019, Pavan completed his studies in Composition and Percus- sion at the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts, where he plays per- cussion and piano, and graduated with a Bachelor of Music degree (Honours). In 2020, Pavan won Best Composition for Arranging in the Performing Arts WA Awards for his work in Black Swan Theatre Company and Barking Gecko Theatre Company’s production of Fully Sikh. His most recent productions include, Shakespeare’s The Tempest and Tony & Grammy-winning musical, Once, (Black Swan State Theatre Company and Darlinghurst Theatre Company).

Sepsi is a multidisciplinary artist based in Boorloo (Perth, WA) whose practice spans the mediums of music performance, writing and visual arts. She is pas- sionate about community development and wields her artistic practice(s) as a tool for change through individual and collec- tive empowerment.

Her work in arts and governance has paved the way for the meaningful inclusion of minority group artists in Boorloo through advocacy, skills training and teaching, consultancy and management.

DJ DANCER

mwaba: Alexx Mubanga (Zambia/Perth) is a Zambian born dance teacher, choreographer and Youth Worker who teaches Afro-fusion; a unique style of African dance that blends various traditions such as; AfroBeats (West Africa), Afrohouse and Kuduro (Angola), Soukouss/ dombolo, Rhumba (Congo Bassin), Afro-Pop, Kalindula (Zambia), and Pantsula (South Africa). Alexx is well known in the African Aus- tralian dance community; teaching local classes in Perth since 2013, guest teaching in Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide as well as hosting and collaborating with professional international dancers and choreographers from Jamaica, Uganda, Zambia, Kenya, Ghana, Nigeria, South Africa, Netherlands, Portugal, Poland and Angola.

Perun Bonser is a Ngarluma filmmaker with a background in contemporary dance. As an accomplished writer and director with over a decade of experience, Perun is passionate about telling authentic stories that challenge audiences and empower First Nations communities. Perun has written and directed several short films including horror anthology DARK PLACE - THE SHORE (ABC), BLIGHT (ABC), FIGHTER (NITV), and SHADOWS OF DISPLACEMENT (NITV). His films have screened at a multitude of film fes- tivals, including CinefestOz, Hot Docs, imagineNATIVE, St Tropez Inter - national Film Festival, Sydney Film Festival, and Melbourne In- ternational Film Festival to name a few. Perun directed Prospero Productions’ immersive dome film STAR DREAMING and wrote for AFL documentary NOONGAR FOOTY MAGIC and ABC web-series AUSSIE RANGERS. Perun and his partner were selected to participate in talent accelerator lab Imagine Impact in 2020 where they developed ONE OF THE GOOD ONES. In 2021, Perun came on board as Series Director and Co-Writer of OUR LAW - Season 1 (NITV/SBS) which is currently streaming on SBS On Demand. In 2022, Perun was selected as AIDC’s inaugural recipient of the Indigenous Documentary Placement at the ABC in Sydney. Perun is currently Series Director, Story Producer and Co-Writer of OUR LAW - Season 2 (NITV/SBS).

DESIGNER VIDEOARTIST

Multidisciplinary designer and artist based in Boorloo, Taje Singh is inquisitive, creative and romantic. He currently pursues a fulltime free- lance career in the world of design and art. Taje’s pas- sion for narrative and storytell- ing translates into many design forms such as graphic design, film, photography and interior design. Inspired by memory, identity, place and human experiences, he strives for three values in his personal and professional life; purpose, perspective and balance.

CO-PRODUCER

Sukhjit is a writer, performer, theatre-maker, filmmaker, and producer based in Boorloo. Her work as a multi-form artist for the last ten years has been rec- ognised at the Performing Arts WA Awards (2020), Mona Brand Writing Awards (2022), WA Multicul- tural Awards (2022) and Young Aus- tralian Sikh of the Year (2023). Her passion for storytelling began as a finalist in the Australian Poet- ry Slam (2014), semi-finalist on Aus- tralia’s Got Talent (2016) and winner of The Moth GrandSLAM (2019). Sukhjit spoke at TedxUWA (2017), TedxNewtown (2019) and has supported Missy Higgins and L-FRESH the Lion on their national tours. Her poetry and community arts projects have led her to tour globally and across her nation. Sukhjit premiered her sell-out theatre show FULLY SIKH with Barking Gecko Theatre Company and Black Swan Theatre Company (2019). Since then, she has been developing her comedy series WHAT WOULD SUKI DO? with support from ABC TV and is currently producing A HAIRY TALE, a documentary exploring female body hair. Sukhjit and her partner, Perun Bonser, were selected to develop their rom-com series ONE OF THE GOOD ONES at Ron Howard & Brian Grazer’s talent lab, Impact Australia (2020). They premiered their video installation work BETWEEN BREATHS at Goolugatup Heathcote Art Gallery (2022) and the work toured in 4A Contemporary Asian Art Centre’s BUSH DIWAN (2022). Sukhjit has been a story-telling trainer at the Centre for Stories and has produced storytelling and theatre projects for adults and school students. COLLECTABLES, her debut hip-hop single is now streaming on all platforms. Sukhjit is the Executive Director of The Blue Room Theatre.

From Naarm (Melbourne) but now calling Walyalup (Fremantle) home, Joel graduated from Deakin University with a Degree in Contemporary Arts, working as a freelance actor for a number of years, they returned to study to complete a Mas- ters of Education at Melbourne University. They then worked for a variety of non-for-profits as a Teaching Artist, such as Western Edge Youth Arts, while also working for numerous Arts Organisations as a Assistant Producer and Education Assistant, such as The Malthouse Theatre. Joel was the Outreach Coordinator at Arts Centre Melbourne for many years, working on Access & Inclusion initiatives, Community Engagement projects and Education programs. Before moving West Joel was the first Senior Performing Arts Programmer at a new Arts Centre in Melbourne’s south-east called Bunjil Place, experimenting with different types of collaborative community producing and co-design programming. Joel is a spoken word poet and creative producer, their pronouns are he/they/him, Joel grew up on Boon Wurrung land.

CO-PRODUCER

Hidden in Plain Sight is an experiment, it is an act of trust in artists, a risk - like all art, delving into what art spaces could be. A space where set and prop, costume and custom, expectations and tradition can be left behind. So in its place, the soul or it remains, exposed, for all to see. Story telling.

A night of many art forms, a multidisciplinary collection of Perth creatives, who have stories to tell, whose voices deserve our fullest attention, who will take centre stage, demand the room, and fill our hearts with words and music and movement.

We build mausoleums for the “traditional” arts, the Opera, the Ballet, Shakespeare, we wear our finest clothes, sip champagne, and they sell expensive tickets to see old stories get told (again)… but just for some. Those who can enter such spaces. Yet, they’re still just stories, words written by writers, words performed by performers, with an add of glitz and glamour, privilege and production, status and sponsors, they’re all still just stories.

This multidisciplinary spoken word theatre event centres poets speaking their truth, so please be aware their raw and honest emotions may trigger some audience members, as they explore a diverse range of culturalsocial-political topics with compassion and courage.

Poetry often explores the human at its most real, aiming to name the unspoken, to explore it, to heal from it, and to reduce its power over us. This is the potential of spoken word, a relationship between the writer, the reader and the listeners, and we know depending on the current season of our lives, we are not always ready to hear every truth.

We wish to encourage all audience members to be kind to themselves, if at any time you are feeling overwhelmed you may leave the space without judgement. This evening is a night of storytelling and sharing, of safety and trust, and we hope you feel welcomed to our space.

EBONY

Noonook Djiti djiti. (You, Willywagtail)

Nidja yeyi. (here, now.)

Djinang djiti djiti, nidja yeyi (look, willywagtail, here, now.) Dwonkaniny djiti djiti, nidja yeyi. (listen willywagtail, here, now)

Kaatidjin Djiti djiti, Nidja Yeyi. Settle those wings and let ngaarnk(s)(mother/sun) rays kiss your feathery cheeks. Feel her breath as she whispers soft lullabies. Hear boorna(trees) wowakiny(breathing) her song. The songs of koolbardies(magpies), kaka’s(kookaburras), and you.

Djiti djiti(willywagtail).

Wowak djiti djiti, nidja yeyi. (breath, willywagtail, here now) Baranginy djiti djiti, nidja yeyi. (gather willywagtail, here now) Feel the tickles of boodjar(country) as you shuffle on her belly. The tickles gently saying, you are here. Now. Noonook djiti djiti, nidja yeyi. (you, willywagtail, here now) Feel her caress your heel, pushing noonook kwadjet koorl. (you forward)

Kaatijin djiti djiti, noonook birdi nidja yeyi. (understand willywagtail, you, here now.) Gather the wind under your wings and fly djiti djiti(willywagtail). High up in the woorl(sky). Don’t be winyarn djiti djiti, boodjar(country) will catch your fall. Surf the wind. Break through the koorndarnt.(clouds)

Inhale the woyran.(blue)

Remember you djiti djiti.(willywagtail)

Nidja yeyi.(here, now.)

Noonook djiti djiti, moorditj bird. (you willywagtail, strong bird) Kaatijin djiti djiti, your moort, both noitj ba yeyi and your koort. (Understand willywagtail, your family, both passed on and here, your heart)

Kaatitijin djiti djiti, nidja yeyi. (understand willywagtail, here now) Djinang noonook maara, noonook ngoop birdi baranginy birdiya ngoop. (look at your hands, the blood in your veins, coming from warriors)

Kaatijin djiti djiti. (understand willywagtail) Nidja yeyi. (here, now)

Nganyangy koort mirliny ngany koornt

Koordarm nyanyangy boodjar

Wer noonook, Nganyangy koort djook

Noonook nidja

Yoowart nidja

Ngaitj mirliny noonook nidja

Nidja yeyi

Nidja kalyakoorl

Noonook Wirun nidja yeyi

nganyany kalyakoorl djook

My heart is longing for my home

Dreaming of my country

And of you

My heart sister

You’re here

But you’re not here

I wish you were here

Here now

Here forever

Your spirit is with me now

My forever sister

JONI

To the girl I see at gigs sometimes

To the girl at backyard shows, less shy every time

To the girls who threw the bricks that built the houses

To the girls who come through my checkout

And we get all nervous

And big beaming smiles

To see ourselves just living

To my sisters of transition, transcendence and transperth

All pink and blue and white

On hormones, on fire, on their own path

To the girl who burns punk

Whose pages blaze with irreverent gayness

Our sweat on the dong fang fish pub mosh pit floor

To the youtube girls and the instagram girls and the writer’s festival girls

and the girl who fell into the night

Librarians of trans misogynistic implications in the discourse

You weave the myth and mock it

To Kurt Cobain, probably

To the girl next door and the girl next door and the friend of a friend I never heard about before

To the doctor who taught my doctor and gave hell to gatekeepers

To the girls in men’s prison, in 4chan suicide campaigns, in violent homes, in early graves

To the girl who asked to shared a smoke in my old body’s safety on her first time out in a skirt

We go all the way back to the empty page

To the girl who melted my mind with her intergalactic voice

To the girl who drums around town, who serenaded my situationship

And to the girl who fell into the night

To the really hot girl I wanted to fuck on my birthday

To the girl who was my first boy before we both knew

To the girl with the chaos tatt with the anarchist A right… there

We were trapped in an endlessly recurring sapphic poly paradox

Tequila and a freeway mattress

I broke your heart between my legs

To the girl who stormed out of my kinky national anthem

Who I’m told has a home among the veterans

To the girl who’s wife wouldn’t let her dress up to host the fundraiser

She wore a scowl all night and you wore eyeliner and pride

To the girl I fell for as we stacked the shelves

You cleaned up my shattered grieving olive jars

Backstabbed by your blood

You ranted transgender rituals and moved in only two weeks in love

We are the truth of each other

To the other poets’ daughter, I saw myself in you,

then and now and between our awakenings

I dance on your grave like nobody’s watching And you scream along in hopeful nightmares

To the girls who never knew

To the girls who pass, who don’t pass, who will pass it on

To the girls targeted much harder by male hate than this white civvie

To the long list of girls we’ve lost

To the girl I see at gigs sometimes

You look stunning tonight

You are not a novelty

You are not a failed man

You are not a thief

You are stunning

Sorry I’m a bit awkward

A flower on fire

Just so stoked to see you

To see us

To see our grace and courage

Thank you

Your body will be free, I promise

Your heart will be full, I promise

Your rage will be holy, I promise

Your hope will be pure, I promise

Your life will be lived,

I promise

Unravel my DNA, unfurl each strand, go slowly, s l o w l y. Carefully, please. I feel every pull when your hand draws back. Don’t ask too much about

how each particle formed I wasn’t there when it was. You use a tender hold between thumb and forefinger

I’m weeping

From deep inside my molecules Come forth the stars, Sprinkle dust on your skin

“Describe it to me”

“I can’t”

A film of tears

Coat his eyes

Do I trust you?

To see inside of you like this?

On the day I am bravest

I empty out my Sundays.

I point the knife carve a hole in each one until the calendar where they sit drains all over my carpet.

Wringing dry the worship that used to be. I shred the pages of scriptures coated in my identity. Cry a riverbed and baptise all that is old until the pages are submerged ink bleeding.

Washing away who I used to be. On the Sunday I am my lonliest, I gather with others Yearning to glorify Black womanhood on blank canvases. Preparing a holy communion around a trestle table drawing the shape of our world. Sunday service in session, gather here. Our prayer is shared laughter unearthed from our ribcages. Reciting poems on freedom conjuring new magic, imprinting their spells on my flesh. On the Sunday when I dream again, I offer a prayer in slumber.

Tangled in sheets, robed to honour my rest.

I stretch out my limbs in praise for Sundays. My Sundays.

Peeling my eyes, blinking through a film of tears coaxed by my revelation: Today, I am free.

I am no one’s woman but my own.

It is midnight. By the river. We are shivering. Goosebumps, kisses and your beautiful smile.

I am not scared of falling. But I might be scared you would not notice.

Pain will make you think about life in a totally different perspective. Are you ready?

AYO

If you look into my eyes, you could witness my heart racing with heavy love.

If only you would tell me what is in your mind. Maybe I will understand.

I, too, will always remember the day you told me you will always be there.

It feels like I have been on a rollercoaster of our memories. I’m getting tired.

Hold me tight, do not leave me, she said. Yet, she left without a goodbye.

Your dangerous words hurt like fire; they keep burning my ears. You are a Dragon.

If you see my shades on, then I’m trying to hide pains in my eyes.

I feel their hurtful words chasing me down the hole like I’m the mouse Jerry.

His ex stabbed him with words emotionally. He got severe trauma from his heart wounds.

His lover left him drowning in a pool of tears even though he couldn’t swim.

Her sweet voice rang through my mind all night long. I could not stop snoozing.

His lover left him drowning in a pool of tears even though he couldn’t swim.

Her sweet voice rang through my mind all night long. I could not stop snoozing.

They stare at me and their eyes stripped me of what’s left of my confidence.

And just as I was about to start falling for you. You began to withdraw.

Sometimes you need to be willing to let someone go, to see if they care.

I wish I could tell you how much I think about you in a day.

I keep thinking of letting go and it hurts more as each day goes by.

You say I have nice eyes and lips, then act surprised when I catch feelings.

I do not regret ever kissing you that night. I should not just have continued.

I have been thinking about you lately. Thinking about what we both could have been.

I am scared of looking into your eyes. I just might fall in love soon.

The only thing that would make me happy is seeing a smile on your face.

I must be lucky, because how did you end up falling in love with me?

Our love has been great so far, but now it is time to move on.

Even though it’s raining men, she chose me to be the apple of her eyes.

I saw fire in her eyes and it grew even stronger as I moved closer.

If only you knew how my heart starts to beat everytime you walk past me.

You make me feel like a star but it’s sad that only oc- curs at night.

I feel ashamed of myself every-time I think of how much I hurt you previously.

Why do you only call me when you feel lonely, sad or need some loving?

I’m here pretending like I don’t care just so you wouldn’t see I am hurt.

Afire love, Afire love, where are you? Afire love, afire love, I feel you now.

Even though you knew you were wrong, your ego wouldn’t let you admit your sins.

RUSHIL

My higher self says “Take your time, they’ll hear it when it’s ready. Even if they don’t, That’s why the head that wears the crown is heavy.”

Expose yourself through phone screens

Complaining and sweating

Wish someone explained to me

You just keep moving on and dead it

To few I am indebted

Pulled me back from armageddon

Mutual respect

Something you can’t exchange for a percentage

The minds a complex structure

With no room for new tenants

So your application for opinions

Just gon’ get rejected

In this life we swim in circles

In circles

My mic rhymes in cursive

Recursive

Got all that I need, not what I want And god bless the riders on the hunt

And I will wait

Hold my bow and sword

Til’ my brothers find a way Of their own accord

My lower self connects me

To my base and beast desires

Acknowledge as I roam this place

I owe my peace to others

Reminds me that one day

When we expire

I’ll become the grass

That feeds the stag

And that’s the way we keep the cycle going

Never take more than you need

That’s how you beat survival mode

Cuz greed will have you eat your brother’s flesh

And gnawing at the bone

Keep your gaze ahead

Ignore the silly hares

They’re darting in and out of pocket

Just to maximise their profit margins

I promise

The answer lies inside cooperation

Ain’t no corporation

Gon put your needs before their sacred dollar

In the temple turning tables

While you sit and squabble

Prostrate at the altar

I give my all in the offering

In this life we swim in circles

In circles

My mic rhymes in cursive

Recursive

Got all that I need, not what I want

And god bless the riders on the hunt

And I will wait

Hold my bow and sword

Til’ my brothers find a way

Of their own accord

And I will wait

Hold my bow and sword

Til’ my brothers find a way

We can’t make it out alone.

Let my eyes

Reflect the light of the Sun

May my soul speak

The depths of the moon

Heart on my sleeve

There’s blood on my shirt

Pardon my speech

If I’m starting to slur

Starting to heal

Showing where I was hurt

Part of belief

Seeing I wasn’t perfect

Did that mean I wasn’t worthy of love?

Could it be it was all so simple then?

Simplicity seemed the folly of the simple man

Discontent was the seed, think you bigger than

The least of these, I fall to my knees

And pray I see again

Let my eyes

Reflect the light of the Sun

May my soul speak

The depths of the moon

Let my tongue bring the heat of the Sun

May the truth be relief from the moon

I have seen where the leaves of this tree fall

Eve calls to her atoms, why’d she ever been born?

Truth lies outside of the verses

But this was the wisdom whispered by serpents (Om)

First came the word

Second came manifest duty in a verb (Be)

That’s the whole of the law of existence

Simplicity was the mission

But third came form

That for which jaws hit the floor

For which man still proclaims war

The sands of time shift

And life becomes choice:

Race to bear arms or keep your embrace warm?

Fourth came might

The power to stay hands

Or raze whole village

Power to make stands

Save the innocents

Or blood-stain the whole land

Will you keep it militant

And claim grace in amen?

See it all went down

At that first emanation

When a particle burst forth

And started vibrating

And a cosmos of secrets in a moment floods open

Your wisdom though whispered was best left unspoken

My child you are god and it’s sinful creations

The tide, the moon, your own cause and causation

Every wave that takes shape in an infinite ocean

You are proof of perfection, you are no-thing worth noting

Chidananda Rupah Shivo’ham Shivo’ham

Come rest your eyes from the worlds of illusion

Chidananda Rupah Shivo’ham Shivo’ham

O silent perfection, the circle unbroken.

Space to write your poem…

What do you hide from sight?...

What sits at the centre of y