Verse Magazine Edition 23

FREE Edition 23 | July - August 2018 Your Student Mag

This Edition If Only I’d Known Songs to Reminisce To Road Trippin’ Synaesthesia

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Contents Edition 23 | July - August 2018

02 Editor’s Letter 04 A Letter to an Angel 06 Don’t Be So Censortive 08 The Trees and Me | Paint it Black 09 Centre of Circle 10 If Only I’d Known 12 Hope 14 Songs to Reminisce To 17 In[ter]view: Royce Kurmelovs 24 Synaesthesia 26 Imag[in]e: Oliver White 38 Sutu Creates Prosthetic Reality at MOD. 42 VOX 44 Road Trippin’ 48 The Yoga Society Club 50 An Open Letter to Dad 52 President’s Letter 53 USASA Calendar 55 Darkness 58 The Sound a Cuckoo Makes 60 Review: Student Snacks 62 The Signs As: Phone App Users

Cover Image Oliver White

Above Image Dallas Nery

Verse Magazine is brought to you by

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Editor's Letter Head Editor | Jesse Neill

As cliché as it is, time flies.

This year has quite literally flown by and if we don’t stop to take a breath once in a while, then we will lose ourselves in the routine and the rigmarole of uni again. So make sure to take a break and escape for a while in this edition of verse.

This edition features a letter dedicated to loss, there’s also an open letter to dishonesty but also hope for redemption, there’s quirky short stories and contrasting poems. We also received so many great submissions for our mental health edition that we decided we would like to include some of the great submissions that couldn’t quite fit into last month’s stacked mag.

So once again, thank you for your contributions, enjoy the break and make the most of it, because like everything in life, it won’t last forever.

The Verse team acknowledges and pays respect to the Kaurna, Boandik and Barngarla people as the traditional custodians of the land that we create, publish and share on.

Head Editor Jesse Neill | Editor Simon Telford | Communications Editor Georgia Lake Graphic Designer Sascha Tan | Printer Newstyle | Design & Production Consultant Jackson Polley The views expressed in this magazine are not necessarily representative of the views of USASA or the editors.

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Edition 23 Contributors Dear students of UniSA, we sincerely thank you! Thank you all so very much for helping put your magazine together!

Below are the names of this edition's written and visual student contributors.

We want to add you to the contributors list!

Students are the back bone of this magazine and it doesn't run without your valuable input. Send through written or visual work that you want to show off! With open arms we accept all student work; written, drawn, typed, recorded or scrawled, you name it- we want it!

Submit using the online form at:

VerseMag.com.au/Submit Jesse Neill @jesse_neill Simon Telford @s.z.telford Sascha Tan @saschatan Georgia Lake @georgialakee

Jun Ni Ho David Adams @david.adam.s Jamie Bucirde Zoe Kassiotis Jaspreet Sidhu @imjsidhu Phuong Dinh Dallas Nery @dallas.cc Quillan Rogers Leilani Maldari @yvm.design Royce Kurmelovs Oliver White @oj.white Stuart Campbell

Specifications for written work: We are looking for short articles 600-1200 words and longer articles 1200-2400. Articles can be on any topic but we especially love opinion pieces!

Specifications for artwork: Send us images at the highest resolution you can (300 DPI or larger in .jpeg, .tiff or .pdf file format). We love all visual styles and mediums.

Connor Foley @c_foles Claudia Gregory @urbnbnk Rachael Sharman @rachaelsharmandesign Tanner Muller @tanner.muller Mark Vawser Jordan Mumford Caitlin Gepp Sneha Manimuruga Tim Grech

@versemagadelaide @versemagazine @versemag_adl

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A Letter to an Angel In this letter Jun Ni shows us that life is what you make it Words by Jun Ni Ho | Illustration by David Adams

Dear Angel, I remember you telling me that your dream was to become a dentist. As you were describing to me every detail about dentistry with full excitement, I could see there were tears of joy filling your eyes. I then knew that studying dentistry was your aspiration the whole time. An accident suddenly struck, you fell from a very high floor of stairs and injured your spinal cord.

You instantly knew you had to give up dentistry for you could not be able to walk again and move yourself freely up and down dental engines.

activities. I could see they were also your talents. You said you learnt ballet at a very young age and could perform beautiful ballet dance. I saw your childhood ballet outfit before on Instagram – you looked exactly like a ballerina, with your tied-up bun, adorable tutu and pointed shoes. You missed ballet more than anything, and wished you had the chance to dance again if you would recover.

Majoring in the field of science was always your preference, hence you opted pharmacy as a second choice. You showed all of us your perseverance in pursuing your dreams and future careers. You were a fighter, you never gave up easily. You made sure you put your best effort into sustaining life. You

mastered every skill in managing

“After a few months of blood, sweat and tears, you successfully a wheelchair” Eventually, you took up painting as your hobby.

During the semester holidays, or whenever you

attended wheelchair workshops to retain mobility after the accident. It was a new life journey for you as you began everything from zero – new tasks, and new challenges. You learnt patiently how to control movements using wheelchairs. The process was arduous but giving in did not appear in your mind for you knew giving up was the only way to fail.

had free time, you carried out painting as you adored it very much. You possessed fine skills painting with watercolour, using both wet and dry techniques. Your masterpieces were amazingly brilliant. You proved to all of us your abundance of passion in committing to doing things that you dearly loved.

After a few months of blood, sweat and tears, you successfully mastered every skill in managing a wheelchair. You participated in events and made new friends. You even attended classes at university, where we met and befriended each other. I was beyond pleased when we became desk mates in class.

You never failed to thank me whenever I helped to carry your desk to you. We shared our daily life stories when we had free time. You once told me that dancing and painting were your favourite

There were a few times when you flipped over and were tossed off your wheelchair in class. As all of us turned our attention to you, we found you lying helplessly on the ground, with the entire wheelchair pressed against you. Immediately, we approached and assisted you into sitting position again. You noticed our worried and concerned faces, so you pulled our leg by telling us you were as light as a feather and falling down was nothing.

The atmosphere turned less awkward after you

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got us all gingered up. You always put on your best smile in front of everyone; you were gleeful and warm. We barely saw you cry. There were also several times when you were really exhausted and slept in class. As you were finally half–awake, you took a glance at the projector screen, then at me, and always said the same statement, “I am so tired.” I automatically mouthed back, “Me too.” You then grinned at me and resumed slumbering.

Our classes started at 8 a.m. and ended at 6 p.m. almost every day. Every day was wearying, yet you were stronger, more independent and diligent than most of us. You insisted on driving yourself to attend classes, so you drove to campus, rain or shine. Your car was sent for redesign, allowing you to control and move the vehicle safely with only your hands. You taught all of us resolution in your self-support and living in optimism.

“Every day was wearying, yet you were stronger, more independent and diligent than most of us” You told me the multiple medications you took daily to treat your condition were the dominant culprit which led to constant drowsiness. At most times, the side effects were so bad that you could not focus on your studies and experienced muscle cramps. However, you did not allow these challenges to become a barrier. You did constant revisions, aced in tests and examinations, and were awarded the Dean’s List Award for your consistent results.

You never ceased to learn and ask questions.

Sometimes, you even taught us when we had doubts in our studies. You encountered every obstacle with resilience and compassion, displaying yourself as an ideal student role model for us all.

One day, we had CNSP (Central Nervous System Pharmacology) class together. While you and I were discussing the topic about nervous system, you told me that there was no treatment that could make you stand and walk again. I felt sorry and looked down, not knowing what to say. Instead of me comforting you, you reassured me that you never gave up on trying out any novel physiotherapy options, even those with the slightest hope. You said you and your family found a neurologist in America who was still in the midst of conducting a research on nerve damage therapy. There was hope for you, and you were eager to go over to America to receive treatment once the research was successfully

carried out. Meanwhile, you went to consultation and physiotherapy on a weekly basis.

You were finally able to walk again for short distances after three years of hard work. Everyone was proud of you, for you had shown all of us your determination in standing up and becoming stronger in life. Unfortunately, a very sad and tragic loss happened last December. We attended your funeral on that gloomy day. Rain drops were hitting heavily on the rooftop of the parlour as we arrived and paid our last respects. The sudden news of your death was shocking. We did not expect you to leave us so early. We knew you were extremely tired of everything, we hoped you could rest in peace now.

We would miss you dearly for sure.

My dear Angel, I thank you for proving to us that life has no limits. You have taught us well that determination and perseverance are the key elements of breaking the boundaries of life challenges. This letter is written to pay tribute to you, for you have been a stoic all this while.

Until the day when I see you again in heaven, I shall remember your story of life and utilise it as a source of motivation always.

“It’s been a long day without you, my friend, and I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.

We’ve come a long way from where we began, oh, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again, when I see you again.”

May you rest in peace. ◊

Don't Be So Censortive

It’s all about freedom, liberation and equality of the nipple.

Words and Illustration by Jamie Bucirde

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Ahh, censorship. A word that makes my skin crawl and my nipples turn around and invert back into my body because they’re sick of the bullshit.

Censorship, an issue that has continued to affect how women should behave legally, publicly and on social media.

In many ways, censorship showcases who is sitting behind the desk and who is controlling the show. No woman should be denied her right to express how she represents the skin she’s in. The censorious double standards protected and upheld in today’s society leave women marginalised and over-sexualised.

Censorship and the Law When it comes to Women’s Rights, Australia has seemingly continued to arrive late to the party.

Until the late 1920’s it was illegal for both men and women to be topless in public (remember vintage male V swimsuits? Yeah, not just a fashion trend) until the law was lifted for men, while still remaining illegal for women.

During the 60s and 70s, in the second wave of feminism, women were continuously arrested for ‘indecency’ without even taking their clothes off.

Men, however, are permitted to be topless wherever they want, and have done so without any threat of harassment since the 1930s.

A similar incident occurred in Alice Springs in 2004, when police arrested a group of Aboriginal women as they danced topless in a park. This caused outrage within the Aboriginal community, as the chairman of the Aboriginal body of the Central Land Council, Kunmaner Breaden explained, “topless dancing [is] a part of Aboriginal culture”.

In 2018, women across Australia are generally permitted to tan topless on beaches. While you won’t get arrested for being topless, depending on council by-laws, you may get asked to cover up as it is deemed offensive. If you refuse, you may be asked to move on and leave the beach. However, public nudity, which legally includes the female nipple, is still against the law. In New South Wales, the law explicitly states “a person shall not, in or within view from a public place or school, wilfully and obscenely expose his or her person”.

evidence that someone saw you, just that there was the potential for someone to see you.

Censorship and the Media Women’s nipples remain extremely sexualised body parts that apparently serve the exclusive purpose of pleasing the male gaze. Social media has played a huge role in the attitudes engrained in society on what is deemed ‘acceptable’ and what is not.

Instagram’s censorship policy states that “we don’t allow nudity on Instagram. This includes photos, videos, and some digitally-created content that show sexual intercourse, genitals, and close-ups of fully nude buttocks. That also includes some photos of female nipples.”

It is time to re-educate the social media administrators that continuously reinforce a society which blames females for male arousal. As the inter-web continues to expand, it creates new systems of socially engrained power. The harmful and degrading removal of the reality of women’s bodies is harmful and degrading, fuelling the tools of misogynistic and societal oppression.

“Why should having more fat tissue underneath a nipple determine how females dress and hide their bodies? C’mon Australia, free thy nipple!”

Female censorship is based on what constitutes the contemporary standards of society of that day. It’s a sad reality that people don’t have the power to censor messages broadcast by the dominant voices of our mainstream culture. No one is censoring the most powerful voices with their toxic points of view.

While they oppress and censor minorities, stripping women of the right to their own body, these attitudes continue to become engrained deeply.

Why should having more fat tissue underneath a nipple determine how females dress and hide their bodies? C’mon Australia, free thy nipple! ◊

The question I have is, what does “wilfully and obscenely” even mean? Surprise, surprise… the law doesn’t define it. If a woman is found topless in New South Wales she can be incarcerated for up to six months. The crazy part is, police don’t need

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Words by Zoe Kassiotis | Illustration by Sascha Tan

The trees outside my window have shed themselves of your gaze new life blooms untainted and free beauty but my chestnut hair is still stained by your touch why can’t I rejuvenate like the trees

The birds sang for us to build something incredible flowers bloomed in our footsteps fertilised with the promise of forever but we lost sight of nature’s plan and destroyed each other instead

Centre of Circle

Don’t get trapped in your thoughts, wander and explore the world.

Life is short, you are more than what you think you are.

Words by Jaspreet Sidhu

It’s been a while now Looking with a clueless mind Rage and sorrow, my companion, my ally For I am standing in the centre of circle I grow and gain All the seeds of wisdom around me I am a vessel spilling in my vicinity Can’t take it, anymore I’ve lost all my will For I am standing in the centre of circle I am too much flooded with thoughts Yet, can’t find a prominent one to step ahead Good at everything, Bad at all Ideas scattered around like ashes Perception failing to act like it always had For I am standing in the centre of circle The soul seems to be fading I think my spirit is annoyed with me It was supposed to wander But is trapped in my unworthy mud Playing the blame game with me For I’m standing in the centre of circle

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If Only I'd Known For the girl who doesn't want to grow up Words by Phuong Dinh | Illustration by Dallas Nery

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Dear 19-Year-Old Self, Nineteen years old is when you don’t feel mature enough to be an adult and of course, not a teenager. It is when you are learning how to become a “real” grown-up; it’s merely another stepping stone on the passage to adulthood. In the next few years, you will be going through some major changes in your life, so I’m writing this letter to tell you the things I wish someone told me eight years ago.

Firstly, starting at this age, you are standing by the door to the future of independence and maturity. In your life from now, there will be sunny days. Some days, there will be thunderstorms and you will feel exhausted, powerless, frustrated and lonely. There are days where you will not accomplish anything, you will be rejected, and people will break your heart. You will feel disappointed and stupid for crying in your car, but you will do it anyway. That is adulthood and you are just beginning to understand how it feels. Being an adult doesn’t mean you won’t cry; you are not emotionless. The only difference is that they hide it better than us and have more responsibilities to worry about. The happiest are those with courage, patience, and are always willing to move forward despite the obstacles. You must keep in mind that it is completely fine to not be strong and you don’t need to force your own personal growth. As time goes by, life will give you lessons and someday, you will be different; stronger than you ever thought possible, and better at hiding your feelings.

“Being an adult doesn’t mean you won’t cry; you are not emotionless”

After high school, I took a year off because I couldn’t decide my next step. In fact, I was scared of failure and of making a poor decision. Today, I am a professional graphic designer. What happened was that I did not chase my passion but I became passionate about what I chased. I want you to know that you are young, and it is okay to be unsure because what’s more important than having a dream is having the ambition and enthusiasm to reach it. Do your best and find the joy in whatever you do, whether it’s a job or hobby. Never be afraid to try new things, think outside the box and challenge yourself because the worst possible scenario is to waste your time being timid and living passively. In the end, you will be surprised at where that could lead you and how your life can be transformed.

Lastly, even if you aren’t listening to my advice, no matter what you do in these next two, five, or ten years, I want you to remember that I love you. Sometimes, I tell others that I hate you and believe in the negative things they say about you, I blame you for things that are not your fault, I judge you too harshly for the way you look or act. Some days I even wish I wasn’t you… I know I am your worst critic but trust me, I can never stop loving and supporting you. Because I am the one who can understand you more than anyone ever will. I can see your strength, your courage, your compassion and your desire. I can see the true beauty deep down in your heart and it makes me love you more each day. In the meantime, I hope you are healthy and happy, work hard and never give up so that one day, you will become the greatest version of yourself.

Good luck on your journey and take care!

With love, Your 27-Year-Old Self ◊

Secondly, your mind is filled with many ambitions and aspirations. Unfortunately, you don’t know where to begin. You may want to graduate high school with a high score, get accepted into a wellknown university, take a gap year, have a part-time job, travel to places you have never been to, or even just figure out who you really are and what your purpose in life is. Eight years ago, I was one of those nineteen-year-olds that would draw a blank or feel bad about myself when someone says “chase your dreams”. I knew I enjoyed drawing and that I was good at it, but “passion” was such a heavy word that I was always afraid to mention it.

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THEMES: suicide

Hope

Quillan explores the concept of hope on his journey.

Words by Quillan Rogers | Illustration by Leilani Maldari

Hope. It’s a word that can inspire people in the direst of situations. So many people around me use this word, they use it for themselves and they use it to comfort me and for the most part I do find this word comforting. The problem with the word is that it is meant to signify a connection between the negative in our present-day life and the positive that is meant to negate that negative in our future.

As time passes and that day doesn’t come, you start to lose any positive outlook you may have had. Without some sort of positive reinforcement it’s nearly impossible to block out those negative thoughts in your head. It becomes a cycle that constantly moves you between positive and negative, you could even call it a hope cycle. So why is this word so pivotal in my day-to-day life? Well, the reason is I’m eight years into a hope cycle and

false sense of security that everything is okay, when in actual fact it’s not. It’s subtle, but it can make a huge difference to what you get out of the session. I want the thoughts that have been plaguing me to be discussed, not buried. The other thing I find difficult about this room is the fact it kind of mirrors my illness. It’s a room showcased in a positive light, but the sole reason you are within this room is to talk about the negatives within your life.

“I’ve been in a lot of waiting rooms and the most vibrant have always been my psychologists’, they want to put you in a

there’s no positive reinforcement on the horizon.

positive mood before you start

I think about hope all the time, but it’s most on my mind on the days I go to see my psychologist.

At this moment I’m sitting in the waiting room, methodically going through all these thoughts and meanings, trying to pick one that aptly describes how I’m feeling. There are several vibrant items that could catch your eye as you walk into this particular waiting room, but my eye is always drawn to a beautiful painting of Adelaide hanging on the wall, with bright colours reflecting off the canvas.

Even on a gloomy day the painting and everything else inside this room would project a positive vibe. I’ve been in a lot of waiting rooms and the most vibrant have always been my psychologists, they want to put you in a positive mood before you start your session. Although I understand why they do it, sometimes I feel myself being lured into a

your session”

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All I want is for my life to be this room. Sometimes my life lines up with the hope and positivity streaming from this room and on occasions reaches a euphoric height that I just never want to come down from. Eventually you do come down though, and the drop feels like you have fallen off the edge of a cliff. It makes my life unbearable and it’s at this point that the all the positivity is sucked out of the room and you’re left with the harrowing realisation of why you are sitting in this particular waiting room. A burst of cold air hits my face, while my eyes have to readjust to the new stream of light in front of me, before my ears finally decipher the words “you may come in now Quillan.”

Just as in the previous room, the positivity within this room is instantly apparent, there is no subtlety in the message it is trying to send you. I’ve just got to remain strong, block it out and remember my issues will never resolve themselves if I’m pretending there’s only positive in my life. “Take a seat Quillan, I just need a minute to finish up these notes,” my psychologist says in her normal bubbly attitude. I’ve been seeing her for almost three years now, before that I had no less than ten different psychologists. I could never connect with any of them, they were nice enough, but they didn’t relate to me and as a result there was always the nagging feeling that my time was being wasted. At that point in time I was in my early twenties and I decided therapy or medication wasn’t helping, so what was the point? The months in the aftermath of stopping both resulted in a couple of failed suicide attempts, I bottled it all up and my head was telling me that there was only one thing I could do to take the pain away.

in their twenties. Even though it’s only an hour, her positive personality and advice does make me feel more hopeful when I get up to leave, but the problem is, that hope needs to be topped up in the exact same way the next time I see her.

As you can see there’s a bit of a pattern here.

Everything within these four walls just oozes hope and positivity, it’s really a stark contrast from what is waiting for me once this session is over. The only other respite I get once I exit this building is talking about my mental health with my friends and family, something I try to do as little as possible because I feel there’s a sense of constant failure if you are continually seeking reassurance from the people closest to you. All I want is for them to be proud of me, I just want to be the kind of person they believe I can be. “Right all finished, shall we get started Quillan?” she comments. In that instance my mind went straight to “yes, I’m ready for my top up.” ◊

Hospitals became a common occurrence, doctors became a common occurrence and the toll it took on my family and friends made me think that I had to start living my life a bit differently. I found a place that catered a free service to people under twentyfive. My thinking was that the psychologists there might be more around my age bracket with the kind of services they were providing. It only took one session before meeting my current psychologist. We don’t always agree on everything, but she understands what I’m going through and because of her age she can provide solutions that are tailored to a person

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SONGS TO

Find our playlists: @VerseMag on Spotify!

Words and Illustration by Sascha Tan

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01

02

03

KICK, PUSH

JENNY FROM THE BLOCK

BREATHE

LUPE FIASCO

JENNIFER LOPEZ

BLU CANTRELL feat.

SEAN PAUL

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05

06

LIKE I LOVE YOU

PON DE REPLAY

LONELY

JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE

RIHANNA

AKON

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08

09

NOT MANY

LIP GLOSS

MANEATER

SCRIBE

LIL MAMA

NELLY FURTADO

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11

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RUNAWAY

DANCE WITH ME

TIPSY

KANYE WEST feat. PUSHA T

112

J-KWON

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JUMPIN', JUMPIN'

1, 2 STEP

FRONTIN'

DESTINY'S CHILD

CIARA feat.

PHARRELL WILLIAMS

MISSY ELLIOTT

feat. JAY-Z

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In[ter]view: Royce Kurmelovs Verse Mag's Regular Graduate Interview

Interview conducted by Jesse Neill | Photos supplied by Royce Kurmelovs

UniSA graduate, Royce Kurmelovs, is a freelance journalist and author living in Adelaide. He has published two books and written for publications around the globe such as The ABC, The BBC, CNN, VICE, Al Jazeera English, and The Guardian to name a few.

Speaking with Jesse Neill, Royce discusses his writing journey thus far, the fascinating projects he’s been working on, and the challenges of working in a changing industry.

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How would you describe yourself and your line of work?

I'm a journalist, which means I have no taste for honest labour and few other marketable skills. I'm also a freelancer, which means I fly no flag and don't operate out of any particular newsroom.

Generally speaking, I'm a jack of all trades. I will write what gets me paid, though I am really a profile writer. Profile writing is to sketch out a person's life and my preferred subjects are everyday people. Most journalism, in most places, concerns itself with the lives of the rich and the powerful. These are the people who run organisations or entire countries, those who enjoy money or have some kind of celebrity. I don't really find them all that interesting and I figure there are already a lot of reporters out there covering those people, so I'd rather do something different. Not that everyone is always willing to pay money for it.

When you were studying at university is this where you expected to end up?

Yes and no. Journalism was always the goal. How it would all end up was a mystery. I'm the son

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of an earthmover, so I had no one to really show me how it was done or how to exist in the professional world. When you come from a working class background, it's pretty clear you don't always belong. You're a little too quick to speak your mind. You don't dress right. You swear too much. In a lot of ways it was insane for me to embark upon this career trajectory and in a lot of ways it still is. That hasn't stopped me from trying, and frankly, even I'm surprised how far I've carried it. I'm pretty sure if my family had it their way, I'd be a lawyer.

Whether I'm still doing it in six months, who knows? Come find me again then and see if I'm still in business.

From what I’ve read you’re quite the multitalented creative. A freelance journalist and photographer, as well as a performance poet and published author. Which one of these do you enjoy the most and why?

Credit to you and your research skills. Poetry was something I did while I was at university because I didn't have time to write anything longform. It's something I'm glad I experimented with. It taught me public speaking, which is

something I still struggle with, and it taught me to be a better writer. As someone whose journalistic work mostly involves producing features, profiles and longform journalism, it taught me a solid grasp of metaphor, symbolism and word play.

As for the rest of it, for a start, I'm not a "creative". That's a little too highfalutin for my blood. My work is journalism and I see it like a trade. Everything I do is another tool in the box to help me earn a living. As a rule, freelancers don't earn a lot of money and few resources are allocated to giving you a dedicated photographer to work with on a job.

When it happens, it's something of a novelty.

This means you have to learn how to shoot for yourself. Getting a decent set of shots from a protest or some other event may be enough to get you an additional sale. Books are another aspect of this. I may be wrong (and I am always open to being wrong as that's how you learn stuff), but I believe one of the last places where proper journalism can be done is through books. The publishing industry affords you some start-up resources to perform a deep-dive into a subject and the blank canvas with which to explore it differently. That said, Australia doesn't necessarily have a good culture of narrative journalism, or even the half-news, half-magazine style that belonged to the altweeklies in the US. This is where the origins of my style lie, and is probably what makes my voice different from a lot of others. I am not the first to do journalism this way, though.

Far from it. In Australia, Margot Kingston is

probably the best I've read who has gone down this path and often been deeply misunderstood.

She is someone who understands that journalism is both more than the dry, inverted pyramid of a newspaper and also a weapon. She is an essential read for anyone curious.

As a freelance journalist you’ve written for some well-established media organisations such as Al Jazeera, Vice, BBC, and The Guardian to name a few. How did you begin freelancing?

In the final year or two of university I lived alone and survived off the Centrelink student allowance. As a lot of people probably know, that's tough. Freelancing was first a way to bring in some extra money and then a way to break into an industry in which I had zero connections. I couldn't afford to "intern" my way into the biz by working for free, so I had to find some other way. The first serious turn towards freelancing came during my final set of exams when, in the middle of that period, I spent my grocery money to fly to Sydney to sit an interview for a job with The Guardian. I did not get it, and I didn't deserve to. I was totally out of my depth. But the then-editor of Guardian Australia, Lee Glendinning asked if I wanted to freelance for them. Of course I said yes and then went about making every mistake possible.

For me to go down this path was extremely risky.

Not everyone should. And if you do, you should make sure you have an exit strategy or have some other way to fund yourself.

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What is the writing process like for you?

An editor of mine once said most people hate writing, they just enjoying having written. I enjoy writing. I like waking up, sitting down at my keyboard and doing the work. It brings purpose and I enjoy waking up knowing exactly what I have to do tomorrow, which is why I am always nervous when I come to the end of a project and I have to start thinking about what's next.

You published your first book The Death of Holden: The End of an Australian Dream in 2016. Can you tell me what inspired you to write this book and the journey it took to reach publication?

I needed something to write about. There was an investigative journalism mentorship program going and I needed a pitch to get through the door. At the time, the end of the car industry was a local event with a national significance and something I, frankly, knew nothing about.

The factory defined life for everyone out there.

It was something fixed and certain in the landscape that most Australians never really thought about and took for granted. I had a personal connection to the place in that my grandfather had worked there when he migrated to this country, and after asking around I pretty quickly worked out that everyone where I lived had a story like that and even a lot of the people who lived elsewhere. I grew up in the shadow of the Holden factory, in a neighbourhood where the only significant person to come up there during my lifetime was David Hicks, the guy who the US locked up in Guantanamo Bay. Then I learned about deindustrialisation

and what happens when you close industrial operations of that size without much of a plan.

It made so much of my life up until that point suddenly make sense and it helped me understand the world around me far more clearly. So that became the book.

“Really, my whole job is to talk to interesting people about interesting things�

Have you seen much change in writing opportunities since publishing a book?

For me? Or the industry? Because people seem to think I know something about stuff. The publisher keeps offering me new contracts on books, which I assume means I'm doing something right. Other editors are a little quicker to give me work because they think I'm reliable, which is weird for me because I'm probably the last person you want running anything.

That said, I'm living the dream. I get to do something that is incredibly special and interesting. Really, my whole job is to talk to interesting people about interesting things.

Broadly, the industry in Australia is just as tough as it is everywhere else. The business of industrial news is disaggregating. It's coming apart. Everything that used to make up a newspaper is now being spun off into its own thing. You get your commentary from Facebook or Twitter. You get your sport from a dedicated website. You go to realestate.com to advertise your house. You log onto Gumtree to put up a classified. This is bad news for journalism as it

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means the things that used to fund investigative and more creative journalistic projects are gone. You have to find some other way to fund them and then people still may not decide to give you their money. It's why I see books as one of the last avenues to counteract this.

People still read, even though literacy rates in Australia are shockingly bad. People still pay for books. Books have authority. Books still earn you money. Not much – but enough to keep you going.

What has been your biggest challenge since graduating from university?

Working out how to get paid for the thing I was trained in.

What is the most rewarding part of your work?

Helping people. One of the most intense stories I did was on rape culture in South Korea after working with a group of survivors and feminist activists who were desperately trying to get someone to talk about the issue in a manner that was direct and free of euphemisms. Thanks to the persistent domestic reporting of the Korea Herald and a story I did in VICE that went viral, the Korean government announced a three-month crackdown into gender-based violence. Whether that actually means anything is debatable, but it was something.

I can imagine deadlines can be very demanding in your line of work. As student’s mental and physical wellbeing is becoming more and more of a focus on campus, what sorts of things do you like to do to relax and what motivates you to keep going?

I am probably the worst person to ask about this because I don't know. My life is famine and flood. I often work myself to a pulp and then have to take time to recover. I make it through thanks to friends, coffee, shitty crime TV shows and strong drink. What keeps me going is both the need to pay rent and the understanding that what I do has meaning beyond me and my circumstances. Journalism is important. Done properly, it helps us know who are the heroes and who are the villains. It helps us shape our sense of self and understand what our future may be like.

What future projects have you lined up for yourself/what are you currently working on?

A couple of things. I'm thinking about setting up a podcast where each episode I interview a different person to talk about their work, their family, their lives and their cities. I was thinking that each week would be someone different. A Bunnings store greeter one episode, a street sweeper the next and a wanna-be actor after that. I have also just finished my next book on the mining boom. I've been explaining it to people as a book about what happens when a bunch of people suddenly come into a lot of money, are promised it's forever and then it goes away again. In a lot of ways it's a follow up to The Death of Holden and will be out sometime around September. It profiles different people at different levels of society to find out how this whole period changed us. I'm really quite proud of how it's turned out. Some of my best writing is going to be on display and it's probably my best book to date.

Finally, what message do you have for students studying the same degree/area as you?

Read. Especially read non-fiction books. Cover to cover. If you're coming up in this industry now, you're doing so without any understanding or knowledge of the history, origins or context of anything that happened before you were a teenager. The worst journalists in the business usually don't know anything beyond basic reporting techniques. Which is the second point: learn something more about the world than how to put together a newspaper or produce television. You need a sense of curiosity to succeed in this business. You need to show an interest in other people and be willing to learn. Whether that is something as lofty as economics or biology, or as something as everyday as computer games or food, having a niche gives you something to write about in between looking for the next big thing. â—Š

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Synaesthesia Definition: a condition in which someone

experiences things through their senses in an unusual way, for example by experiencing a colour as a sound, or a number as a position in space.

Words by Mark Vawser | Illustration by David Adams

Ella’s world was grey as she broke into a million pieces. Sobs racked her body as she convulsed on the cabin floor. A book lay open on the rug next to her shuddering form. Ella hadn’t opened the box Luca had given her since he left, and now she wished she had thrown it into the lake. She gathered her composure and rose from the floor, bending down to retrieve the unread clothbound edition of Pride and Prejudice. How could she ever have thought that he was her Mr Darcy? Life is not a Jane Austen novel Ella! It wasn’t the first time she scolded herself. She thought she had turned a corner; she felt she had begun to heal. Opening Luca’s box was a mistake.

Ella splashed her face with cold water, washing away her tears. Her face looked puffy and she could only assume her eyes were red. She remembered the colour, the way it flashed and made her nervous. She remembered the blue of the sky on a summer’s day, its reflection of the shallow lake outside, the deep purples of starry nights, but most of all she remembered the emerald green of her father’s eyes, all now faded to shades of monochrome grey. The doctors could never give her a straight answer on why or how she became colourblind at the age of twelve, only that her eyesight was still perfectly fine. Ten years of living in a grey world and it had never been as dark as the past month.

I knew it was a mistake coming here, she thought.

Ella had not stayed in the cabin for years. It was her father's favourite place in the world and reminders of him plastered every wall. She closed her eyes as a memory of screeching tires and shattering glass forced its way into her mind.

Walking towards the fireplace, Ella examined the photos framed above it. Her father with his broad smile was holding young Ella's ankles, steadying her as she sat perched on his safe shoulders.

Memories of his smile flooded her mind, memories long buried, too painful, too bright. Ella tried to force the memories down but she couldn't, she was too raw, too open, and they consumed her.

She remembered her father’s voice, deep and reassuring like a cup of hot chocolate, dark and sweet. His rough hands as he pulled her onto the roof to lay under the starlight and gaze upon the wonders of the northern lights. The melodic ring of his whistle as he occupied himself on the drive back to the city. The look on his face as he saw the car speeding towards them, crimson and

unavoidable. His deep, piercing green eyes as he glanced at her in the passenger seat. His safe arms turned the wheel to place himself between her and the oncoming vehicle. The last light of his emerald eyes fading away as the world became black and grey around her.

“She remembered her father’s voice, deep and reassuring like a cup of hot chocolate, dark and sweet” Ella came to her senses long enough to make a cup of hot chocolate, the same her father made for her.

Her tears long spent on the wrong man, she wept no more for Luca. Climbing an old ladder up to the roof of the cabin, Ella sipped her hot chocolate and gazed at the stars. Far from the city, they shifted and spun with such clarity that she could almost see them dancing just for her. She found a smile as she attributed patterns to the stars, this one a rabbit, that one a fox, another a hound. The smile lingered, and a long broken piece inside of her repaired itself, not entirely, but enough to fill the gaping hole long empty in her chest.

The sky bursts to life in a river of mottled grey and blinding white, the northern lights shone for her as they did all those years ago. Wanting to share the moment with someone, Ella withdrew her long forgotten phone from her pocket. She opened the camera intending to send a picture to her mother when something caught her eye. Green. A flash of green swam in the phones reflection for just a moment. She lowered the device and stared at the sky intently. Still black and white she thought with a sigh.

Raising the phone again she saw another flash of green, but this time Ella did not lower it. She stared at her reflection, black and white under the bright moonlight, and a hint, a speck, a swirl, of grey-green pierced her eyes. The speck grew as she began to cry again, tears mingling and reflecting the grey-green as it grew. The green became brighter and brighter, blending with purples and blues dappled with bright points of starlight.

Ella wept tears she did not know she carried, carried not for Luca, not even for her father, but for herself.

She had found the Aurora Borealis in her eyes. ◊

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Imag[in]e: Oliver White Verse Mag's regular student Art & Design feature

Interview conducted by Sascha Tan Graphics by Oliver White

Oliver White is a Communication Design student and self-taught 3D graphic artist. Talking with Sascha Tan, Oliver discusses his relatively recent interest in art and design, emphasises how truly horrifying old photos of children wearing Halloween costumes really are, and shares how a case study in 3D printing led to his transition from study in business accounting to a creative career. Oliver invites us into his alternate world of experimentation in 3D graphics.

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Tell the readers a little about yourself and what you're studying.

Hi, hello, I am Oliver. I grew up in rural Victoria until a couple of years ago when I moved to Adelaide. I am currently studying Communication Design with an interest in 3D illustrations that convey a simple mood or message. When I’m not doing work, I have a tonne of other interests. I love

intense since I started self-teaching it six months ago. I’ve never had such an epiphany like the time I first discovered the ManvsMachine studio and artist Alexis Christodoulou. While I am absolutely in the early stages of my learning and design journey, I will never forget that thought of ‘I need to know how the hell these guys are producing this work.’ I mean I am still quite baffled by a lot

old cars, guitar, groovy Netflix/Stan shows, and Mr. Sunshine’s café in Thebarton.

of new work that’s being produced today by visual designers. Usually I hate change, but I absolutely love it in this field.

A while ago you mentioned to me you jumped from Product to Communication Design. It seems like what you learnt in Product Design really influenced your style. Were you interested in 3D graphics even before you came to uni?

I'm curious as to what styles you were into previously, can you tell us about how your interest in art and design has developed over the years?

I’m really grateful for the things I learnt in that course and the main thing was to be curious!

Have curiosity of your surroundings, how things are made, and how other cultures approach design.

Product design, being so physical and hands on, I loved the idea of drawing from multiple disciplines to help influence one single medium.

While I didn’t even know about 3D art and motion design before uni, my interest in it has been quite

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My place in art and design has been interesting because I didn’t really put my hand into it until after high school. While I did love to draw when I was little like everyone else, throughout my teenage years I was putting all my creative focus into audio engineering and writing music as hobbies. So, for a long time I was really interested in audio, rather than visuals. And it wasn’t until I did a case study on 3D printing that my life direction completely changed from

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business accounting to a creative career. Now I’m experimenting with digital sculpting with no real idea of what is going to come out of it. But that’s what gets me really excited about communication design. I think there’s something romantic about growing up with varying interests, and then being able to combine them all into a career. A dear friend of mine told me that I have always been a creative, and that I’ve just been applying it in different areas as I’ve grown. Something about that has really stuck with me since.

Some of your work feels almost eerie in a way, though the experimentation of texture and lighting in all your pieces seem very powerful.

Are any of them inspired by your day-to-day life?

I think you could say that. I like to make the scenes somewhat relatable by nature, but I sometimes feel the need to add a subject that makes the viewer question what the image is about.

I find odd image perceptions really fascinating.

Like how old photographs of children wearing Halloween costumes are absolutely horrifying to look at today. They’re scary but so simple.

I guess I’ve stemmed off things like that for my surreal images. Other areas are usually based off what I want to see around me. I’ll build up a scene in my head throughout the day and try and produce it as quick as I can. Usually it looks nothing like what I imagined, and this is when I do my best work, as it can spark a new idea or direction.

Sometimes I will just start with one or two colours that I really like at that time and build from there.

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I am also super envious of your 3D skills, how would you give advice to someone who wants to teach themselves how to create their own 3D graphics?

Thank you! Well, I would tell them to take advantage of online resources. YouTube, Vimeo, and Lynda are full of fantastic tutorials on learning 3D programs such as Cinema4d and Blender. There are so many techniques and styles in computer graphics that I find it’s just best to learn one technique at a time and then apply it to your own personal projects so that you remember it in your own way.

3D art and motion design has a really wonderful online community as well, so don’t be afraid to reach out to other artists and designers for help or critique of your work. I do this quite a lot and it can be a little daunting at times, but mostly the reception is lovely.

What's the ideal project you'd love to work on, and with who?

Ooo that’s a tough one. I would love to do more visual work in the music industry. I love the styling for The Jungle Giants, so I would be stoked to work with them.

Give us your best tips on how to keep creative.

My number one tip would be to do your own personal projects. And do them as much as your free time allows. Having a brief to follow for a client or uni assignment is great, but doing your own work allows you to make terrible work, experiment some more, and hopefully come out the other end with something new. I find it really rewarding to use Instagram as a platform for a personal project because it keeps you accountable to continue making content. Set lots of small, realistic goals that you can work towards, but keep the bigger picture in mind. Which is creating the work you want to create! ◊

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Sutu curates Prosthetic Reality at MOD.

Verse Magazine had the opportunity to ask Sutu a few questions regarding Prosthetic Reality and the new frontier of augmented reality art.

Sutu (Stuart Campbell) is the curator of the exhibit Prosthetic Reality at MOD. Australia’s leading future-focused museum in Adelaide, South Australia. Prosthetic Reality brings together a collection of work from 45 artists from around the world, showcasing augmented reality artworks that combine sound and animation with print and paint.

Interview by Simon Telford | Images supplied by Stuart Campbell

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Sutu how did the partnership with MOD. come about?

We launched our Prosthetic Reality AR book about 18 months ago and the promotional video for that book went a bit viral online. It was viewed close to seven million times on Facebook. I’m guessing MOD. saw it too and then reached out to us to enquire about exhibiting the work featured in the book.

VICE described this exhibit as “the most ambitious AR art project to date.” What does this exhibition mean for AR art and artists?

environment conditions and maybe we access wind data so that artistic objects in the scene could be flying in the breeze at the same speed as natural objects.

I think there will be more emphasis on shared experiences, making sure you see what I see at the same time and being able to interact together in those augmented spaces. To make those experiences more believable we are relying on machine learning AIs, that assess the physical world in real time to ensure that your digital content respects the

Well at the time there wasn’t an easy way to create AR art. It still required a fair bit of programming knowledge. We really wanted to bridge this gap, so my business partner Lukasz Karluk and I decided to reach out to artists and offer them a go at using our technology to create their own AR art. What began as a call out to artist friends quickly grew into an invitation to artists all around the world. I had a lot of enquiries coming in so I setup a Facebook group to manage the conversation and guide the curatorial process.

It was a lot of work to manage but it was also wonderful to see a community forming around the project and all the enthusiastic artists from all different walks of life sharing their ideas and approaches to making the AR art.

The exhibit was a new experience for me. I can only imagine what the future holds. Where do you see AR art going over the next decade?

Oh man, I could talk about this all day… I actually wrote an online comic a decade ago called nawlz.com (I think it still works!) where I created a future city where an artist, using a chip in his head, is projecting his imagination on to a digital ether that overlays the city. We may not be ready for chips in our heads, but the next step is definitely glasses like the Magic Leap ML1’s, that can replace the phone for a more seamless view of AR content.

The glasses are just the technical means for accessing the content and the content itself is going to go into some crazy territories. What I’m seeing a lot of at the moment is a convergence of art and various technologies. For example, if we are showing 3D AR art in physical space, we might in the future also tap in to BOM data to know where the sun is, to accurately reflect the natural light conditions to light up the art and cast shadows correctly so that they reflect the natural

physical world properties, i.e. when Pokemon Go came out there were a lot of Pokemon looking like they were half buried in the ground, but soon we taught the camera to recognise a surface, then we could at least make the Pokemon stand on top of the ground.

We’ve also taught the camera to recognise faces and bodies and body movements and identify body language i.e. the computer can recognise a person waving, so if you wave at the computer maybe a digital character will wave back at you or if you look away from a digital animation maybe the digital character will notice and say, “hey don’t look away, you need to see this!”

This kind of AI awareness is creepy, but also incredibly powerful for making more immersive art experiences and it’s becoming more and more accessible. I mean the fact that we can use an app like Snapchat to recognise our faces and attach content to our faces or heads (like some bunny ears) is pretty amazing – that was really hard to do just a few years ago on a powerful computer, now you can do it with a pocket computer.

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One of the artworks that had the deepest impact with me was the soldiers with skulls being transformed into horrified faces. What do you think is AR art’s largest strength compared to other forms of art?

Yeah, one of the strengths of AR is its power to provide an alternative perspective on reality. For example, maybe you’re reading a comic about gender dysphoria, the printed comic could show a young boy going through life, but then through AR you could see the boy represented as a girl or transitioning back and forth from girl to boy – the AR becomes a lens into the mind’s eye of the protagonist

physical art and the digital art. It creates an opportunity to bring the art to life but also to allow the digital art to provide a new layer of meaning to the physical art. The intention could be to provide a fun, magical experience or it could be to utilise the AR platform to introduce new information. For example I recently AR hacked the front page of the New York times to overlay some ‘alternative facts’ for an exhibition at the Tech Museum of Innovation in the US. Something that struck me whilst viewing the AR artworks at MOD. was the combination of traditional art, animation, sound, technology and design all going into one piece. Does this take a toll on the artist or is this an opportunity for collaboration with others?

A lot of the artworks in the exhibition were collaborations between artists, animators and sound designers. As the curator of the exhibition I made a lot of introductions and tried to pair artists whose work resonated with one another.

So, is this the future of art?

Well, It’s one future of art. But within the broad umbrella of ‘AR art’ I expect there will be many augmentations utilising many different technical approaches.

Prosthetic Reality can be viewed free at MOD. on North Terrace, adjacent Morphett Street Bridge until November 2018. ◊

Augmented reality is starting to seep into a few different industries. When do you see AR being integrated into society at a large scale?

I think holding our phones up to the world is still a weird way to interact with AR, so as soon as we migrate to AR glasses the uptake will be much faster and provide a more seamless experience. And the glasses (like with the Hololens) can also be tracking our hand gestures to make it easier for us to interact with the AR content.

Can you talk about the relationship between the physical artwork and the augmented art?

I personally love this relationship between the

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V

X: Student Voice Looking to these Verse contributors to be inspired and motivated!

Harrison Davies What is the creative process like for you?

The creative process for me is very instinctual, I have an idea and just roll with it and then hope for the best.

What work of art/writing are you inspired by?

My writing style is always written to be read aloud so a lot of my influence comes from people like John Oliver or Steven Colbert.

If you could only experience one medium of art for the rest of your life, what you would choose?

Movies. I am a complete film snob.

Victoria Knight What is the creative process like for you?

For me, the process is restless. I have an idea that won't get out of my head and I get restless until I write it. Once it's done, I'm restless to write more. That restlessness is what drives me to keep writing and creating, if only to keep improving.

What work of art/writing are you inspired by?

For sure the Harry Potter series. For all her faults, J.K. Rowling created a huge, enrapturing world and then let her readers do with it what they will. The series and its characters have always been a massive source of inspiration and comfort for me.

If you could only experience one medium of art for the rest of your life, what you would choose?

At the risk of sounding pretentious, books. Writing is my creative medium of choice and books allow flexibility in the way a reader can imagine the characters and setting. Though TV does get a special runner-up mention because, to tell you the truth, I'm a sucker for reality shows.

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Sneha Manimurugan What is the creative process like for you?

Being an engineering student, learning about new theories and formulas prompt me to think about why and how they were derived and this thought process, I believe, helps enkindle my creativity. In life as well, I try to commit to every small action of mine and make sure I am not doing something because someone told me to or someone else did it but because I chose to do it and in that way I find myself being creative.

What work of art/writing are you inspired by?

I am usually inspired by song lyrics. That is the work of writing I really admire and appreciate the most. Sad songs make me cry and connect, happy songs make me cope and hope.

If you could only experience one medium of art for the rest of your life what would you choose?

Music.

Jun Ni Ho What is the creative process like for you?

In my opinion, possessing lifelong creativity is indeed challenging, yet exciting and adventurous. Every individual should hold the responsibility in writing his or her life stories for they will make memories that never fade. As Mitch Albom has once said, “Sharing tales of those we have lost is how we keep from really losing them.”

So go active, creative and innovative for now and forever!

What work of art/writing are you inspired by?

I am a bibliophile. I love masterpieces that are immersed with inspiring stories and beautiful histories.

If you could only experience one medium of art for the rest of your life what would you choose?

I would certainly opt for literature.

Chris Dastoor What is the creative process like for you?

Most of my ideas come when I’m half-asleep. Otherwise, I’m just jamming on guitar while watching TV. What work of art/writing are you inspired by?

Our existence is a work of art and that inspires me. Lol, but seriously, the lyrics to “Butterflies and Hurricanes” from Muse probably inspired me the most. Not just in song-writing creativity, but just in terms of how I view the world.

If you could only experience one medium of art for the rest of your life, what you would choose?

I’d miss my comedy, but music is probably the number one for me.

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Road Trippin'

Friendship, hardship, survival and love.

The outback can be deadly.

Words by Connor Foley | Images by Claudia Gregory

Day 3 A lone tree sat completely still in the barren and fiery desert. There was not even the slightest gust to bristle its leaves or wipe the sand from its branches.

The cruel January sun plagued the land and even the age-old tree was begging for shade. The desert came to life as a white wagon soared past, sending up clouds of dust and dirt into its rear-view. “...In the desert you can remember your name, cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain, La, la, la, laaa, la, la, la, laaa” Rorey sang along to the stereo, steering the car with one arm while drumming with his other on the outside of the door. The burning wind soared through his hair and under his pits. His chest was bare and he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his pale skin. Jimmy sat in the passenger seat with his head rested against the window, staring at the digital clock while his head bounced against the glass. His eyes stayed fix on the 2:13 above the dashboard, seeing if he could count in the same time as the clock to the next minute. He had oil stains on his West Perth footy shorts and his sunglasses were resting on top of his shaved blonde hair.

They were nearing the end of their journey to Karijini National Park, a paradise of mountains and waterfalls hidden among the red oblivion of the Great Sandy Desert. They had two hours left on their three-day journey and had just taken the shortcut that leads straight through to Juna Downs. Years ago the Aprico Oil & Gas Company, a Western Australia mining giant, carved the path to do seismic surveys and find oil but the path was now completely abandoned.

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The Triton groaned as it moved between gears on the bends and slopes of the surface. The lifetime of annual road trips was finally beginning to take it's toll. Jimmy reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette, struggling to spark it as the wind sailed through the car.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to smoke in the car?” Rorey said.

“We’ve got another week in this hotbox for the smell to fade. This car’s nearly older than us anyway,” Jimmy replied.

Rorey’s attention stayed on the road, trying not to get bogged as the all-terrain tyres veered through the sand. Suddenly the back wheels flew sideways and the car went hurtling off the path into a large ditch. They took a deep breath, relieved they weren’t bogged, and revved the car back up the hill, cheering her on like it was one of them. The tyres crawled up with all their might. They finally reached the top when the engine made a frantic squeal and thud. The car stopped. Both of them watched sadly as it rolled back down the ditch it had come up.

After eyeballing each other they rushed to lift the hood, which now had smoke surging from under it.

Jimmy—the grease monkey of the pair—searched for the problem.

“How is she?” Rorey asked.

“Something has pierced through the sump,” Jimmy replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What does that mean?”

“Well to put it in simple terms… we’re screwed.”

Jimmy walked away with his hands on his head, gazing out across the endless plains of wasteland.

There were no signs of life: no buildings, no cars, no road signs, nothing. The waves of heat rippled like fumes in the air and he swore it could have lit his cigarette on its own.

“Head up, we can sort this out,” Rorey said.

“Do you not understand our situation?” Jimmy screamed. “All alone in the desert with no service, we haven’t seen another human in two hours and have barely enough food to last the day. It must be forty degrees out here.”

“There were no signs of life: no buildings, no cars, no road signs, nothing. The waves of heat rippled like fumes in the air and he swore it could have lit his cigarette on its own” Silence returned as they sat back down. The sun was low enough over the horizon that it gave them shade on one side of the car, but heat still radiated off the ground. Jimmy took a deep breath and let the grains of sand run through his fingers.

He closed his eyes and his mind drifted far away, back to a home that seemed so far gone. He dreamt of the view of the park at work, the local oval and the smell of coffee when he walked past the café on Maylands Terrace.

“So what can we do?” Rorey said, heaving him back to reality.

“We wait.”

It was soon nightfall and the air around them had cooled. They rested against the car door and watched the stars gradually appear. Rorey placed an arm around Jimmy’s shoulder, but had it brushed off a few moments later.

Day 4 Rorey was woken by a glowing shade of blue that emerged across the sky, devouring the nightfall like an army across the battlefield. His heart quickly sank when he saw no signs of rescue.

It seemed even more desolate than the day before.

Jimmy was still asleep by the wheel next to their last remaining tub of water, which was half-empty.

After hesitating to upset his dreams and drag him back to their unsettling truth, Rorey shook him awake.

“What do we do?” Rorey said. “I think if we can find our way back to the main road maybe someone will drive past.” He spoke encouragingly but a shrill and desperate tone revealed itself in the back of his voice.

“But what if we don’t find anything?” Jimmy said.

“People always say to stick with your car.”

A long argument followed and they agreed on their usual way of settling their differences. Jimmy rustled through the car for his wallet and pulled out a ten-cent coin.

“Heads or tails?” he said.

The coin spun through the air as the sunlight reflected off each side before burying itself in the sand. After accepting its result and realising time was critical, they made preparations and set off easterly.

A few hours of hiking later, they felt as if they hadn’t moved at all, still captives of the neverending red sea. The only indicator of progress was their footprints stamped behind them. I wonder if this is how Neil Armstrong felt, Jimmy thought, up there on his own surrounded by a great infinity of nothing. He had read books on the Sahara desert and wondered why this felt so different. No camels, no pyramids, no ancient artefacts, just fucking sand. With every thousand steps they walked, time seemed to vanish further from their experience.

The only gauge of it was the sun climbing through the sky, yet still they marched on. Left, right, left, right.

They hadn’t spoken for what felt like years and the only sound was the ghost-like whispers whirring through the sand. The wind carved through the dunes, releasing grains into the air only to send them falling again to create other golden mountains elsewhere. The only disturbing of silence came from Rorey.

“Did you know that Australia is the driest continent in the world?”

“What?” Jimmy replied. “…well second after Antarctica but nobody lives there so I don’t really count it.”

Jimmy was so anxious that he couldn’t even bring himself to shut Rorey up, who was only making matters worse. He could feel his mortality squirming in his gut and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness made putting one foot in front of the other an almost impossible task.

“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” Jimmy shrieked frantically. The cries summed up the panic they

were both feeling inside but had refused to show each other, trundling along like everything was fine.

“The sun leaked through the beach towels wrapped around their heads, and despite the volcanic heat, neither could muster a drop of sweat” The return trek was like a bad dream. The sun leaked through the beach towels wrapped around their heads, and despite the volcanic heat, neither could muster a drop of sweat. The never-ending walk turned to delusional stumbling until they couldn’t even remember what was happening. They eventually spotted the car up ahead, but just as they did, Rorey collapsed face first into the sand.

Jimmy struggled to lift Rorey from the dirt and threw him over his shoulders, fighting the existential dread in his every bone. As Jimmy stumbled on, he felt Rorey wrap his arms around his chest.

Once they reached the car Jimmy’s legs gave out instantly, and they both went crashing down in exhaustion. He searched for the water bottle and crawled over to Rorey, nursing him the precious final drops that remained. Rorey moaned as he was stirred back to consciousness, feeling no better for it. The end seemed certain.

“I’m sorry we walked,” Rorey said. “I thought we would find something.”

“Jim?” he repeated.

Jimmy stayed silent.

“Well if we are going to die here together at least say something”—Rorey paused for another moment— “Fuck you then man! Why do you always do this?”

“Drop it,” Jimmy yelled.

“I wont drop it, we are about to die out here! You know we’ve never been the same since—” “Don’t go there Rorey.”

“Why not? What are you so afraid of?”

“I said don’t fucking say it.”

“So you’re just gonna pretend it never happened?

That we didn’t both say what we said?”

Jimmy kept his eyes lowered in the dirt. “I couldn’t care what I said, I was drunk, now drop it! Sorry if I’m not a little fag like you.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“You heard me,” Jimmy mumbled, turning to walk away.

Rorey exploded with rage. He threw himself at Jimmy and speared him into the side of the car. Jimmy countered with a right hook across his jaw. Back and forth they wrestled through the sand, using every final scrap of energy. Years of frustration, tension and secrecy poured out with every blow.

Eventually, they stood pressed against each other in a stalemate, gasping for air and spluttering from the dust filling their lungs.

“It doesn’t have to be this way you know,” Rorey said through his bleeding gums. “Since when have you ever given a shit what anyone else thinks?

When has it not been just you and me?”

“Jimmy... I—” Rorey hesitated. ‘I love yo—” Jimmy screamed hysterically, refusing to hear the rest of the sentence. He lifted Rorey and slammed him across the car bonnet. Rorey was laid motionless, his spine indented in the boiling steel. Jimmy sobbed, but with no water left to fill his tear ducts. He whelped for the blood on his fists, for the ending of a brotherhood, and for what seemed the end of their lives.

Jimmy pulled Rorey from the bonnet, who was still motionless, and rested him softly on the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” Jimmy said, though he knew Rorey couldn’t hear him.

He rubbed the sand from his face and rested against Rorey, and rubbed his hand across his bloody, sunburnt cheek. What am I doing? You’re right, he thought.

kissed him. His lips were burnt raw from the sun and his mouth far too dry, but Jimmy felt the slightest of movement as Rorey’s lips wrapped around his, and for just a moment, his sense of hopelessness, his growling stomach and the regrets sealed deep in his heart vanished in a gush of happiness.

Day 5 Rorey woke up to Jimmy shaking him violently.

He opened his eyes and removed his face from the dirt, but his body barely reacted as they both lay in agony.

“Still nothing,” Jimmy said. “Rorey, I think this may be it.”

Jimmy laid back against the car and broke down again, burying his face in his hands. Rorey struggled to stay awake. He felt a deep sense of calm surge through him as he accepted the inevitable.

“Jim, gimme a dart,” Rorey said.

“Ha! You bastard! Since when?” Jimmy replied.

“Now’s as good a time as any.”

He grabbed one but struggled to raise his arms enough to light it.

“Here,” Jimmy said, as he grimaced over and lit it for him.

“Hey Jim,” Rorey said, “remember that–”he stops to splutter for a moment—“remember that time when—” He starts coughing violently and sits back.

He smiled faintly, breathed out a big puff of smoke and closed his eyes. His head slowly leaned forward. The cigarette rolled down out of his mouth and branded his arm. He didn’t flinch.

Jimmy watched on, horrified, but his body unable to react. He just stared for minutes, trying to see Rorey through his blurry vision. He felt the length of his blinks stretch out more and more, until finally, his eyes didn’t open again.

Day 10 Channel Nine News music plays. “Our top story tonight: two Perth men in their early twenties have been found dead near their vehicle in the Great Sandy Desert, just six kilometres from a bore of fresh water. Authorities say they suffered dehydration and severe heat stroke and had passed a few days earlier before being found. Their families remember them as lifelong best friends, talented footy players and loyal, free-spirited young men.” ◊

After faltering for a moment, Jimmy leaned in and

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The Yoga Society Club

Words by Georgia Lake | Illustration by Rachael Sharman

For a new section in our mag, we’ve set out to showcase the wonderful clubs that spread across our campuses. There is a whole range of groups that enhance community and present opportunities for students, whether it be for meeting new people, using skills that can be helpful in the future, or simply to enjoy a new activity.

For our first club we’ve chosen to feature The Yoga Society: where holistic health and mental well-being is everything.

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As we all know, uni isn’t all sunflowers and rainbows. We can all probably say that at some point we’ve felt stressed, anxious, and worried about our grades or future. Here to not necessarily save us, but definitely help ease the strain, is the club that prides itself on mindfulness, openmindedness and inclusivity.

The Yoga Society provides community classes for students of all levels and abilities. Drawing on traditional yogic philosophy and scientific research, the team strives to help encourage students to study and live mindfully, while providing ways to approach high pressure situations calmly.

Sophie Majeric, this year’s president, says The Yoga Society aims to encourage engagement among UniSA students.

“Like-minded students are able to come together to participate in free sessions, creating a yoga community within UniSA,” says Sophie.

“We promote wellness and well-being through the practice of yoga. It relieves stress, which is very important for students who are constantly under pressure from approaching due dates or exams.”

The benefits of yoga are ongoing. Since 1998, there have been are over 40 different studies demonstrating the various advantages of yoga.

These studies are published in reputable peer reviewed journals such as Journal of American Medical Association, Journal of Pain Symptom Management, and European Journal of Cancer Care, just to name a few.

Across these studies, experts have found a large number of ways where life can be improved from practicing yoga. It has the power to: • Decrease stress • Relieve anxiety • Reduce inflammation • Improve heart health • Improve overall quality of life • Fight depression • Reduce chronic pain • Promote sleep quality • Improve flexibility and balance • Improve breathing • Relieve migraines • Promotes healthy eating habits • Increase strength

Yoga instructor, Vanessa Kerison, has practiced yoga for over 20 years. In her experience she has combined her love of yoga with teaching, and she is grateful to have met such a diverse range of students at UniSA. “I believe everyone is drawn to yoga for their own reasons – wanting to have some physical exercise, wanting to strengthen their muscles and core, wanting to learn to meditate, wanting to learn how to relax.

We’re all on our own yoga journey,” says Vanessa.

Vanessa’s involvement with the university has been overwhelmingly positive, with the students being extremely receptive and open to all aspects of yoga.

“It’s about taking the time to reside within yourself and find calmness, solitude and peace. If I can encourage this for the uni students, their beliefs about themselves, their expectations and interactions with other students, teachers, friends and broader community, can all benefit from calmer and peaceful centred individuals.”

Sophie says the opportunity the university provides for clubs is excellent. USASA provides grant money, which they use to pay Vanessa, and enables students to attend for free. Her advice to students wanting to start their own club is to definitely pitch it to USASA, because they will be very responsive in support and funding.

Classes run twice a week at City East, City West and Magill. They’re 50 minutes, with 10 minutes of mindful relaxation (savasana and meditation) at the end. The style they follow is Hatha Vinyasa.

If you want to show your support to The Yoga Society, follow them on Facebook and subscribe to their USASA page. You can find their yoga times on their website, and they encourage students to wear loose clothes or active wear. They provide the mats.

Vanessa says students should join The Yoga Society not only for the benefits listed above, but also to meet a diverse range of university students. It’s also an opportunity to implement your skills learnt in your degree if you decide to join the committee.

“Breathe. Believe. Release. Receive.”

If you want to start your own club, get in touch with USASA at unisa.edu.au/clubs/yoga. ◊

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An Open Letter to Dad This story documents the raw and emotional account of a divorce from the perspective of a son.

Words by Tanner Muller

Written 3 December 2017 Dad, Without any hesitation, I’ve decided to write you this letter. It details some of my sentiments I have towards you at this point in time. The purpose behind this is to rectify how you, and solely you, were responsible for the destruction of our family.

As you’re aware, this situation could have all been avoided if you had taken the necessary precautions and handled yourself more carefully. But, you made the choice not to. Instead of reaching out and communicating the issues you were having, you took it upon yourself to leave without our prior knowledge. But what you must realise is that your actions have consequences. It’s time to take a stance. You can’t simply escape from us that easily.

I won’t allow you to cast us aside and flush away twenty-two years of fatherhood down the drain. So read closely to what I’m about to say:

“You can’t simply escape from us that easily” During our adolescence, you would administer these “tough tests.” You’ll recall how these would involve challenges for my brother and I to overcome. In a sense, they taught us some of the necessities that you believed to be essential part of our development and allowed us to acquire certain skills in the process.

As I consider this now though, it seemed that you would only initiate these ‘tough tests’ when you were either unable or unwilling to fulfil certain tasks on your own. It’s become clear that you would

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use these challenges as an excuse for something that should have been your responsibility. My brother and I had, at times, been taken out of our comfort zones because of your inabilities.

As we progressed into the early stages of adulthood, the ‘tough test’ concept had become irrelevant. There wasn’t a real need for them anymore, as you’d witness these skills being put into practice. If anything, the “tough test” was only mentioned when we were reminiscing about something from the past. You remember that, Dad? The happy times? When we were all a family? Before you left us without saying a word?

So now, I must admit something to you. I’m afraid the tables have turned. Let it be known that I’ve devised my own “tough test” for you. But before I proceed in telling you all the requirements you’ll need to fulfil, I believe it’s worth detailing and expressing some of the reasons why I believe this challenge would be suitable for you. The truth is, you’re a coward.

What you do is run from your problems instead of confronting them. That’s the issue here.

The thing is, Dad, you’re too caught up in presenting this tough exterior that you’ve never been able to recognise what’s inside of you: true emotion.

You’re not completely blind to it, of course, but you’ve been covering it up for so long now, that its existence has become minuscule. It’s still there, believe it or not. You know that tiny voice inside of you that communicates with your mind in expressing how you should be feeling in certain situations?

That’s called your conscience and it’s absolutely dying to meet you! Once you get to know each other I think the both of you will hit it off.

Now, it’s expected that you’ll fail or completely dismiss this proposal. After all, why should you go through with it? You have all the power in this situation. What you possess is the authority to make a decision that doesn’t involve any confrontation. You can avoid the significance of this challenge entirely and continue with your life without any consequence. You have all that matters: the money, the government job, the middle-age crisis motivation, the “trophy” girlfriend who’s half your fucking age. Allow that to sink in for a moment – she’s twenty-six, and you’re fifty-five. If this were ten years ago, you’d be facing serious legal charges. Certainly not a good example for the kids you care for. She’s five years older than your eldest son for Christ’s sake. You and Mum had been married longer than her fucking existence.

it into the layers you’ve stacked at the back of your mind and forget about it for the time being. However, something you haven’t fully realised yet is how this layer has begun to chip away, and soon, it’ll be completely demolished. And when that day comes, there’s no holding back. All hell will break loose and take control. You’ll probably be regretful, start to act out in frustration, and I’ll have my popcorn at the ready.

You also fail to realise how this is an artificial relationship that won’t last more than a couple years. You do realise that she’ll probably grow tired of you soon. She has her entire life ahead of her. You’ve outlived yours already. You spent the majority of your time raising our family and working to make our lives comfortable. But now, you’ve aged.

way that doesn’t feel as though you’re obliged to say something for the heck of it. I want to see your truest emotion, Dad. I want you to reveal aspects of yourself that you’ve never been able to before. I want you to break down this exterior and expose your truest form. It’s time to abandon this façade that’s plagued your existence and for your authentic self to reach its pek. So come on, what are you waiting for? The challenge has been set.

Bet you can’t do it.

I bet she has low self-esteem, this girl. Either that or she’s in desperate need of an ego boost.

You can see it in her face. Maybe she has daddy issues, who knows. If that’s the case, she certainly doesn’t know what’s good for her.

But I digress. Once again, you’ll likely take the easy route and avoid this challenge entirely. I suppose it’s become a sort of routine for you by now. It’s anticipated that you’ll bury this with everything else you’ve suppressed over the years. You’ll mould

Is any of this getting through to you? Have you opened your eyes yet? If you haven’t figured it out already, the “tough test” is for you to allow yourself to become more open with your emotions; to let them speak, to permit yourself to show some vulnerability, to reveal what you’ve kept inside of you for so long. What I want from you is to admit your faults in a way that doesn’t feel forced — a

Your son.

Sent 22 February 2018, 17:32 Unresponsive ◊

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July & August Here’s a whole stack of things to do 1-31 July 2 August

Visual Arts Soup Sale

2 August

Art on Campus Opening Night

3 August

Occupational Therapy Ball 2018

3 August

Social Work Quiz Night

6 August

Verse Mag Ed #24 Last day to submit

7 August

Slice Bake Sale

9 August

UniSA Psychology BBQ

10 August 14, 15, 21, 22 August

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SALA Festival

Jugstaposition Pub Crawl Chill Vibes (all metro campuses)

17 August

Education Social Pub Crawl

18 August

Law Ball 2018

18 August

Engineering & Aviation Ball

21 August

Illustration & Animation Grad Show Bake Sale

23 August

Contemporary Arts Soup & Toastie Sale

24 August

The Life of Pablo Pub Crawl

31 August

Club & Leadership Grant monthly closing date

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Check these events and more out at USASA.sa.edu.au/Events

A Quick Update Words by Jordan Mumford

Welcome back to everyone who is retuning for the second half of the year, and a special welcome to those of you who are starting study here for the first time at the University of South Australia. For those of you who don’t know, USASA is the student association here at UniSA. USASA is made up of a Board of 14 students elected by you, as well as a team of hard-working staff who deliver the events, projects, and support you need!

feedback independently of the university. Keep an eye on USASA’s promotional channels for these dates.

For those of you who are stepping foot on a UniSA campus the first time in Study Period 5, make sure you head on over to your USASA counter and grab yourself some freebies.

the back of $2.2 billion worth of cuts in the form of a two-year freeze to commonwealth grants funding. USASA has stood in opposition to the funding cuts, as well as the Liberals’ attempts to undermine the HECS system. We will continue to be steadfast in opposing the further Americanisation of our education system, and will work with the National Union of Students to ensure that students are not an easy target.

Now I’ve got the fun stuff out of the way, I’d like to take a moment to speak to you about a couple of serious issues. On June 19 this year, the University of Adelaide and the University of South Australia announced that both universities have agreed to explore the merits of a merger to create a new South Australian university. As the Student Association representing approximately 37,000 students here at UniSA, USASA is committed to ensuring that your views on this issue are heard. I’ve spoken to the Vice-Chancellor David Lloyd about announcement, and I, along with your USASA campus representatives will be conducting campus visits at all 6 UniSA campuses to compile student

Another serious issue is the Federal Government's continued attacks on students. From 1 July this year, people earning more than $51,956 a year will need to start paying back their student debts. The Liberals also have legislation in front of the parliament to reduce the repayment threshold to $45,000. This is on

That’s all for now! As always if any of you have any questions of concerns, then feel free to get in touch. ◊

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usasa.sa.edu.au/CHILLVIBES

Words by Caitlin Gepp

I’m tired, always tired I can sleep but when I do I might as well be awake Reality is great, said sarcastically because I think my life’s a big mistake My dreams are the ones that make it hard to think straight, I shouldn’t be here but I’ve seen people shed tears, Seen the pain others have caused Just because they want to redeem their peace Leaving others scared, empty and left to feel weak The pain for some, you see is a pleasure for me as I’ve seen, Seen things others find hard to believe Been through things others can’t even imagine to see I don’t know why I’m like this, different is what I say, I don’t think like most of them, maybe time will help me see, Maybe I’m special for a reason or maybe someone made a big mistake when creating me, My dreams are not like the ones others have, they make it hard to define reality, My life feels numb because of this, but for every darkness comes light and for every bad comes a good.

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Volunteering with AIESEC Words and Image by Sneha Manimurugan Illustration by Sascha Tan

‘It’s six weeks! Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘You don’t even know their language, how are you going to help them?’

‘What if you feel homesick?’

The questions rambled on and on from friends and family when I mentioned the idea of going on a global volunteering project to Taiwan. I may feel homesick, I may find it difficult to communicate, and I may find six weeks too long, but I chose to challenge myself by embarking on this volunteering journey with AIESEC last December. Today, AIESEC stands as the world’s largest non-profit youthrun organisation in consultative status with the United Nations. Among its many goals, I felt like I resonated most with ‘Activating Leadership’.

I wanted to lead by example, inspire leadership through my actions and results. I wanted to make sure that I created an impact in someone’s life, potentially providing an opportunity to continuously develop themselves.

This project was called ‘Dream Beyond Language’.

I was required to teach English to students aged between 13 and 15 in Nanshing Junior High School in Chiayi, Taiwan. In the beginning, the students

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were timid and never really interacted with me unless forced to. For most of them this was their first-time meeting someone whose language was foreign to their own, so I expected some uncertainty from the students. They had never been in an environment where English was used as the medium for communication for an entire 45 minutes.

Even their English teachers spoke Chinese during classes! It would have been uncanny if they had not behaved that way. I soon realised that I had to change my way of doing things; I started spending more time with them at their favourite classes like art, cooking and sports.

I wanted them to be rid of any apprehension of interacting with me. In classes I created quizzes for them to attempt, I started giving them more time to draw to express themselves and then teaching them how to describe what they drew in English. They felt more comfortable writing down English words than articulating them for fear of mispronouncing them. I would then say words and sentences and get them to repeat after me. The students gradually started developing a penchant for the classes and were not afraid of me anymore.

They would write me letters, they would come up to me and have a chat during their break times, and

“The gratification you get from knowing that you made a difference in someone’s life will remain unmatched” some of them even invited me to have lunch with them. During their classes, I taught them about my country and its culture. I even taught them how a line follower robot works using a bot car I had programmed! They had lots of fun constructing different tracks for the robot to run on.

Ultimately, I would never regret having taken this journey as I have gained so much from it. The gratification you get from knowing that you made a difference in someone’s life will remain unmatched.

Some students continue to text me on messenger saying that they miss me or just to have a conversation with me. One even said ‘Sneha teacher, please text me a few questions in English! I want to see if I can answer them’. To realise that I inspired the students to learn English and take initiatives to keep improving their skills makes me feel special and it undoubtedly boosts my selfconfidence. I think while studying we get

caught up in finding an internship or landing that first job related to our field. Remember, you can always do something very different from what you are studying and try to incorporate your interests to make the most out of the new experience. Who knows, it may even make you rethink your degree.

For example, I study Mechatronics Engineering, yet I was able to use my English lessons to teach them about programming and how a simple bot car would work. While I won’t be changing degrees, I feel a sense of achievement that I was able to successfully cross boundaries to create an impact in another part of the world. This project has been a very memorable experience for me and I will carry the lessons I learnt from it with me throughout my life. I hope if you get a chance to go on similar volunteering projects that you go ahead and give it a try yourself! ◊

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The Sound a Cuckoo Makes Words by Tim Grech | Illustration by Sascha Tan

Based on the ‘Changelings’ fairytale

Staring at my son is a favourite pastime of mine.

Not because he is a particularly pretty boy, his scruffy hair and thin limbs make him look rather farcical. Nor is it because I feel a father’s love for the boy. I’m used to his presence and his habits to the point of familiarity; but I do not feel great affection for him. Even now watching him bend his pinkie and thumb away from his other fingers until they are parallel with his wrist, he’s double jointed which is supposedly fascinating, no warmth bubbles in my chest at his simple smile. Instead I feel a heavy heat pressing against my skull.

Sitting on the dusty couch in our lounge room I am suddenly struck by how quiet the house is, there should be some noise, there should be creaks and groans from the wood and metal that hold up this little world of ours. The toy Transformers he’s playing with don’t report their movement along the floorboards. There should be a hum from the fridge, a dog barking in the distance. Even the cuckoo clock, hanging on the wall opposite the boy with its pendulum constantly swinging, is silent. There should be more noise in this space. It’s like we are in a pocket of nothing. An empty vacuum at the edges of the universe. Just me and him, me staring and him ignoring me staring.

With a frustrated yelp I leapt up from the couch.

I began yelling and screeching at him. Why won’t you look at me, why, why, why. He looks up and I feel a rush of excitement, until I realise he’s looking over my shoulder. I twist my spine around grotesquely to see he is looking at the cuckoo clock. That stupid clock, that stupid boy, stupid clock and stupid, stupid boy. I turn around again

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vigorously to see that he has begun to eat the PB&J sandwich I had made for him. The boy is always hungry and conversely, ever since he came along I had lost my appetite. Like he had stolen my hunger right out of my belly.

He had arrived six years ago on the 21st of June at exactly midnight. He tore our lives apart and Melissa had fallen through the hole he had left.

Sometimes I wonder if – no stop thinking, stop the suspicions, stop the doubts, just stop. Melissa, my wife, did make me feel warm inside. A wonderful and brilliant woman who brought light with her everywhere she went. Until that light was snuffed out, until he stole the oxygen the light depended on. Then it was just him, me and an emptiness. I still had to work, so I got a job as a taxi driver, then a job as a night assistant at the local deli.

After the deli I applied for a cleaner job at the local hospital that I didn’t get, they said I needed experience. I showed them pictures of my house which was very clean back then. The pictures of my cold sterile house did not warm them to dirty little me. Right now, I make wooden dolls and sell them at the local market. I also receive financial assistance from the state, otherwise known as the dole. I even qualify for a larger stipend because I look after a dependent.

Looking at him I can’t see it as dependant, well maybe dependant in the way a parasite is to its host. Maybe that’s what he is, a hungry alien lifeform that has attached itself to me? It would be better if he talked, if he acknowledged my presence in any way. Once I thought he said dad to me; but it was a little girl who was on the bus

as well. She was talking to her father and she had a big smile to match her big eyes. Eyes that were looking straight at his face. He was looking back so softy which belied his hard, bearded face. The girl was asking him if he would like a bite of her PB&J sandwich. I almost fainted when I saw that, it was lucky for me that I was holding on tightly to the pole next to me with one hand. The other hand was being held by “it”. In public was the only time he even seemed to realise I was there and would grip on to me tightly. I sometimes wonder if he’s scared that I’ll try and run away. As I was distracted by trying to keep myself upright he stepped forwards whilst still gripping on to me. This jerked me forward and in my dizzy state almost ripped me off my feet. It took all my strength to resist and I pulled him back towards me more roughly than I had intended. He still said nothing; but the other occupants looked at me disapprovingly, as if I was the alien one.

With a miserable sigh I stood up and left the room feeling like a failure. I went into the kitchen and jammed my head into the fridge looking for something, I don’t really know what. As I walked down the hallway back to the lounge with a twolitre bottle of milk to my lips I paused in shock,

“In public was the only time he even seemed to realise I was there and would grip on to me tightly. I sometimes wonder if he’s scared that I’ll try and run away” my feet coming to a silent stop because I was wearing socks instead of my slippers, I lost them yesterday. I’ve been losing things a lot lately, like my own house was hiding things from me. I stopped because of a noise emanating from the lounge-room. It was a voice talking very matter of factly to Optimus Prime. The voice was telling him that the Decepticons had defeated him and his Autobots and it was time for him to go away forever. The thing was talking, I win, finally, finally, finally I win. I barge into the living room trembling from the victory. As I enter the clock struck eight and the cuckoo springs forward mouth agape, ready to scream. ◊

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Review Student Snacks

Words by Simon Telford | Illustrations by Sascha Tan

Mi Goreng

Oaty Slice: Choc

Banana

To add the chilli sauce or not to add the chilli sauce. This question has divided the youth of Australia time and time again. The answer is to add that spicyboi to the bowl and get ready to ride the flavour train all the way to heat-town.

Relatively new kid on the block.

Mother Earth’s Oaty Slice comes in many varieties and at three bucks for a pack of six, you can’t go wrong. The best of the bunch is hands down the chocolate oats flavour. A great alternative to smashing a block

No lunchbox, no problem.

Wrapped in its own packaging this hearty health smart snack is full of protein, potassium

Buy it in single serve, packets of multiple, or if your diet is 90% noodle based like my old share-house, you can find a shady supplier who will sell it by the box. Spicy, flavourful and quick to make. The only problem is one packet isn’t enough, but two packets is too much.

of chocolate or munching down a thick brownie, the mighty Oaty Slice is filled with choc goodness and goes great with a cup of coffee. Many are the moments when I’ve reached for one of these beauties instead of grabbing a Mars or Snickers.

Try one, you will not regret it.

BTW, does contain nuts!

know that bananas go great in a smoothie, bread, with ice-cream, caramelised and au naturel. To offer some criticism against bananas; why you gotta turn so quickly for? One moment they are ripe and firm and the next they’ve gone soggy and nasty.

Gonna have to bump a few stars off for that.

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and vitamin B6. The old saying goes “a banana will fill you up as much as a steak,” I don’t know about all that, but I do

Cheap and easy. Student snacks are the fuel that keeps assessments going, the victims of stress eating, the few items that take up the cavernous pantries and shelves in share-homes across the country.

This review brings together a selection of six handpicked, artisanal products that are a staple for any university student.

Soy Crisps

Peanut Butter Sandwich

A Pint

No longer relegated to the shadowy bowls on outdoor patio tables surrounded by mums having a few white wines. Soy crisps have been rescued and adopted by Uni-goers as a library munch mate or train ride hunger buster. Some may be put off by the word “soy”

Students will be students, and students love a good PB sammich.

If you want to be horrified, look up the suggested serving of peanut butter. No thanks.

If it’s not an inch high, don’t bother. Peanut butter is there for you when your world comes

A pint of beer for lunch is a time-honoured tradition. On a lucky day you can snag one of these for a fiver, maybe. Almost every student has their own favourite watering hole where we can get together, have a good chat, bond a little bit.

or call them flavourless, but don’t be discouraged. Far too easy to eat a whole packet, relatively cheap compared to their cousins Smiths and Thins, soy crisps are the foundation of any 10 hour day at the campus. Don’t be fooled though, most “soy” crisps aren’t actually majority soy, but wheat.

Also, they are deep fried, but I won’t tell if you won’t.

tumbling down. When that person doesn’t show up for that group presentation. When that grade comes back and it’s not quite what you hoped for. Peanut butter wraps its arms around you in all its goodness. Try not to eat it from the tub.

Not the most nutritious snack, not the healthiest, and must be enjoyed in moderation. Let’s be honest, sometimes it’s the only thing that will hit the spot. ◊

Edition 23 2018

63

The Signs As: Phone App Users Words and Illustration by Sascha Tan

64

Edition 21 2018

ARIES

TAURUS

GEMINI

Reddit

Snapchat

Tinder

CANCER

LEO

VIRGO

Twitter

Duolingo

Google Maps

LIBRA

SCORPIO

SAGITTARIUS

Instagram

Soundcloud

UberEats

clickbait photos and videos on the explore page Likely to message you "Should I post this?" and "Like my insta pic plz"

their IG and FB bios Wears their earphones through their shirts Shameless Says "fight me" all the time

food than their financial status Will shout you food if you're nice

CAPRICORN

AQUARIUS

PISCES

2048

Facetime

Podcasts

March 21 - April 20

Is always on Reddit but somehow only has 1 Karma point Favourite subs are r/aww and r/whatcouldgowrong

June 22 - July 23

Only has Internet humour Peak energy hours are between 4pm and 9pm Ranting one moment, wholesome the next

September 24 - October 23

Is constantly fooled by the

December 22 - January 20

Is obsessed with phone games Plays 2048 every night before bed Probably unlocked a 16384 high score

April 21 - May 21

Streaks with 40+ people Is probably your best friend on Snapchat, but you're not theirs Excessively posting mediocre stories

July 24 - August 23

Der Mann isst eine Tomato = The man is a tomato??

October 24 - November 22

Has their Soundcloud link in

January 21 - February 19

Low angles of up their nose are their best angles Will nap on call with you for 4 hours

May 22 - June 21

Deletes Tinder every two weeks Probably has a stranger's dog with them in their pic Takes way too much pride in their anthem

August 24 - September 23

Always doubtful in knowing where they're going Uses their fingers to work out which way is left and right

November 23 - December 21

Thinks and cares more about

February 20 - March 20

Recommending podcasts to people that don't care, but should care Often on a rollercoaster of emotions

Edition 21 2018

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PRIVATE PARTIES Book your Birthday I Farewell I Quiz Night I End of Exams Party A variety of venues to suit a variety of events

131 Pirie Street Adelaide Upstairs 200 Capacity II Basement 175 Capacity Stage II Dance Floor II DJ Equipment II Live Band Facilities Licensed Outdoor Area II Drink Specials Free Room Hire with Bar Tab

Vaughan Place Adelaide - just behind The Exeter Private Bar & Balcony 90 Capacity Additional space available in our Gallery Reduced rates on weeknights II Catering on site Wide range of cocktails & local craft brews Hit us up for drink specials and self-catering options P: 0416 025 550