Verse Magazine Edition #16 | June - July 2017

FREE Edition 16 | June - July 2017 Your Student Mag

This Edition Jealousy People Are Like Onions Heaps Good Friends It's The Yeast I Can Do

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Simply submit your artwork online and be part of the UniSA Student Association SALA exhibition!

Registration and organising costs covered.

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Edition 16 2017 Original artwork ‘Cosmic Fairyfloss’ by Emma Cuppleditch, USASA Art Comp 2016

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Edition 16 | June - July 2017 Head Editor Caitlin Tait Editor Rubina Chitrakar Communications Editor Bridget Kerry Graphic Designer Rachael Sharman Contributors Poppy Fitzpatrick, William Hill, Carli Stasinopoulos, Nicole Faiello, Madison Kennewell, Chloe Byrne, Jordan Maywald, Mikele Prestia, Elise Prestia, Kate Parham, Declan Wall, Isabella Whittaker, Adele Pittendreigh, Abbey Smith, Lisa Vuong, Nelya Valamanesh, Arnis Silvia, Taylor Summers, Bethany Merry, Emma Cuppleditch, Chantel Bongiovanni, Wade Whitington Cover Image Isabella Whittaker Printer Newstyle Design & Production Consultant Georgie Smith & Aaron Harvey The views expressed in this magazine are not necessarily representative of the views of USASA or the editors. contact@versemag.com.au www.versemag.com.au

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Verse Magazine is brought to you by Edition 16 2017

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Editor’s Letter Head Editor | Caitlin Tait

You’ve heard it before, and you’ll hear it again. From me. Right now.

The small things in life are the best.

Making eye contact with the cute guy in the library and smiling at each other. Getting to wear your offensively colourful jumper now that it’s getting cooler. Road trips. Making food from scratch. Eating that food with the people you love. Learning new things.

Seeing the leaves change colour. Dancing in your bedroom.

Opening a magazine hot off the press.

In these pages you’ll find a reference to a green ogre and a talking donkey, explore different stages of relationships, and a recipe for carrot jam.

Tuck in, bon appetit, here’s looking up your kilt –

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Contents Edition 16 | June - July 2017

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Page 46

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People are like

onions Words by Poppy Fitzpatrick | Images by William Hill

Although a talking donkey made the metaphor, it was with reason. Poppy Fitzpatrick explains.

Somebody once told me ‘People are like onions’. An obscure statement, yes – one that may conjure up nostalgic images of dirty green creatures and talking donkeys – but I think that gentle beast may have been onto something.

Identity crises have been a recurring theme in my life as of late; a constant confliction between who I am to other people, with who I think I am inside my feverish brain.

Who am I to those friendly folk with whom I trade the odd passing greeting? Who am I to the people that see only my trivial ramblings on the internet? Who am I to my oldest, dearest friends?

Despite a number of meaningful, honest and genuine connections in my life, I can’t help but fear that so many have only ever managed to skim the surface of my outermost layer. And this idea is explored so easily with the help of a metaphor that our widely-loved, Scottish swamp man gifted to us in some of our most impressionable years: onions.

It is only human to see someone at face value and assume you know them; I do it regularly. But it is so easy to forget that beneath that tough outer casing, there is layer upon layer of detail and complexity. This intricacy intrigues me deeply, but also scares me beyond belief. I don’t want to be restricted to one facet of my character and I don’t want to close my mind to the depth that lies beneath what I see in others. I have an overwhelming curiosity to dig deeper into the lives of my fellow humans and a constant craving to be uncovered myself.

But despite my niggling and overactive existential thoughts, I have decided to instead embrace an anticipation for the intellectual intimacy that awaits me in every new connection I make, whilst enjoying the aspects of myself that are already out and about in the meantime.

I can now appreciate the idea that over time – through experiences both good and bad, and connections both deep and fleeting – my many layers of self will slowly peel back. Each freshly exposed sheet may slightly sting my eyes with tears (and the air might contain a slight hint of body odour) but it will be worth every second to know that despite my tough exterior, eventually someone will make the effort to get to the softest, tastiest, most fascinating part.

And when that happens, it’ll do.

It’ll do donkey, it’ll do.

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The The Rest Rest Of Of Us Us Just Just Live Live Here.

Here.

Words by Carli Stasinopoulos | Images by Nicole Faiello

I think the moment I realised, if I hadn’t realised earlier, was after she threw the novel she had finished reading into the nearest garbage bin on our walk home.

She was silent that entire walk, the only sound between the two of us being her thumb running roughly against the fore edge. She let the book slip out of her fingers into the garbage without a second thought. I questioned her, shocked, why she could easily throw a story like that away. All she gave me in return was a shrug and a casual, ‘It sucked.’

This girl was her own incomparable story. She hunted adventure and lived on cliffhangers. I was merely a background character in a story most people would be lucky to read.

It was her world, completely her world. The rest of us just live here.

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Words by Madison Kennewell | Images Rachael Sharman

There’s an important history to the humble loaf.

Find out how a smelly jar of bacteria could make you a part of its future.

I have a bubbling glass jar of bacteria and fungi in my kitchen.

You could easily mistake it for a potent witches brew or science experiment left unattended too long. To some extent this is true, and snide comments have been made about inevitable consequences of university student sloth.

Yet I lovingly tend this concoction of bacteria. I feed it and cull it each day.

It’s called starter yeast, and for as long as human civilisation has stood, someone has lovingly tended to a jar of their own.

Starter yeast is used to bake leavened bread. Most people know that yeast makes dough rise, but bacteria plays an important role by metabolising flour sugars that yeast can’t, so yeast can metabolise the byproducts of the bacteria. Yeast rises the bread, but bacteria gives it flavour. A single species of yeast is typically grown, paired with a bacterium like lactobacilli.

If you use a good quality flour, suitable wild yeast strains may already be in your flour, but yeasts also live on your body, in soil, on fruit, on trees and in the atmosphere.

Some people collect wild yeasts by leaving a jar of flour and water outside in their garden but the very skin of

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your hands could both literally and metaphorically hold a suitable wild yeast.

Only recently has the world moved from lovingly tended alchemic jars. Your local supermarket sells packets of Dry Baker’s Yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisiae) but wild yeasts are the biodiversity jackpot of artisanal and hobbyist bakers.

Dry packets of Baker’s Yeast produce uniformed breads for the industrialised age, you will get a loaf that tastes the same with each attempt. It is the hallmark of a supermarket-dependent bread-in-a-bag world, where conformity, dependability and convenience have crushed the visceral demanding process of baking bread. Dried Baker’s Yeast is the product of many thousands of years of experimentation, fermentation and history.

Civilisations have risen and armies fed on the back of a single celled organism.

We live in a world dependent on yeast. Bread, beer, wine, cheese, yoghurt, coffee and chocolate are a few of the products we wouldn’t have without yeast. Across the world, thousands of people have built an ancient network, saving yeasts, feeding them and preserving them for the future.

A good starter yeast can, and have, lasted a lifetime, and can be passed down through generations from parent to child, and between friends and strangers.

In America, Lucille Clarke Dumbrill tends to a 128-yearold yeast starter jar. This yeast colony was created in 1889, in the same year Nintendo was founded, the bra was invented and the Eiffel tower was officially opened.

This colony has survived in the same jar for two world wars, the great depression, and has been passed down to her children and grandchildren, and to friendly strangers.

Close by, a network of volunteers ‘The Friends of Carl’ give away free samples of an 1847 Oregon trail starter in honour of Carl Griffith, whose great-grandmother started the mix during the era of the Californian Goldrush.

This is a biodiverse network of useful organisms: a safeguard against climate change, pollution collapse and pollution. Should one area experience a terrible dramatic change in climate, or geography, another area full of bakers and brewers and average citizens will start sending samples of their yeasts. While the environment in one area may drastically change the blend of bacteria and yeast that live in a starter, across the world a specific wild yeast that could have suffered extinction is growing, and being cooked into birthday cake.

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In Norway, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault protects and safeguards almost a million different seeds from across the world to ensure that our plant biodiversity is encouraged. Yeast may not have a vault of its own, but there is something beautiful about a thousand kitchen jars that have always existed in a symbiotic relationship with humanity.

I call my jar of yeast ‘The Yeastie Boys’ and it is a living creature, a very low maintenance pet that smells slightly alcoholic, and rises and falls like the tides. Every day I cull half of it, replace it with flour and water and let it happily gurgle and feast in return for the smell and taste of freshly baked bread.

My starter yeast has no hundred-year lineage, no great pedigree, but it too is a sign of a relationship between yeast, bacteria and human beings that has existed for thousands of years stretching across continents and generations, across religions and science, across cultures and languages, marking deep grooves into human history.

It might not be glamorous, but my jar is both a reminder of the visceral past and human progress, and one more step towards conservation for the future. Maybe one day my yeast will make its own mark on human history, and be handed down to a great niece, nephew or sibling, or even a friendly stranger, but maybe it won’t, and I’ll be forced to start anew.

Maybe your starter will, or maybe it won’t.

Either way, I get to eat some delicious bread.

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HAVE AN IDEA THAT NEEDS A KICK-START?

Apply for a Student Leadership or Club Grant! $500 -$2500 grants available year-round Grant development workshop: June 13, 11am-12pm or 5-6pm West Campus, BH2.16 Register online

(or arrange a individual meeting!)

Visit USASA.sa.edu.au/Grants for full details & deadlines

A MIX FOR: MAKING EYE CONTACT

ON PUBLIC TRANSPORT Words and illustration by Caitlin Tait | Background Image by Elise Prestia

The ‘I can’t believe my soul mate is on my bus’ feeling.

Search @VerseMag on Spotify to groove on the move

The Love Club – Lorde You’ve Changed – Sia Nobody Cares – LÉON Effortless – Sabina Ddumba We Get On – Kate Nash close – Lewis Watson Dang! (feat. Anderson .Paak) – Mac Miller fOoL fOr YoU – ZAYN Pink + White – Frank Ocean Don’t Wish Me Well – Solange Is This Love – Corinne Bailey Rae Sweet Creature – Harry Styles Little Dreamer – LION BABE Better Man – Leon Bridges Blessings – Chance The Rapper, Ty Dolla $ign, Anderson .Paak, BJ The Chicago Kid, Raury

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Words by Chloe Byrne | Images by Jordan Maywald

Everything is shiny. From the polished glint of the silver turnstiles, to the magnificent palatial pillars that seem to balance the entire building on their shoulders. The marbled floor stretches to each corner of the station, cool and glassy like an undisturbed lake of stone. The disembodied buzz of life echoes against every surface as a fresh tide of grey and black suits swarm in from North Terrace, all weary postures and eyes downcast. The arrival of the lady in the technicolour coat is a symphony against the neutrality of the station; scarlet and azure and emerald hum and sing as the fabric swirls around her feet like fog. The little suitcase she carts bounces excitedly

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behind her, finding every crack in the ancient floors. She isn’t here to catch a train, she’s here because it feels like home. The lady in the technicolour coat pauses beneath an archway to smooth the edges of her favourite poster as though it were an old friend, hanging faded and tired, its message long gone. She thinks it might’ve once vibrantly advertised shampoo; there’s a bottle of some sort nestled amongst shadowy remnants of a rainforest, lush and green and dotted with butterflies and birds. A gash of graffiti mars its coarse face, but it still stays firmly put. Just because it’s tattered, doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful. A flock of teenage girls hurry past, smiles flashing and voices falsetto with youth. Their round faces are flushed as they dart through the station like birds, disappearing into the cool air of a dark tunnel.

The lady in the technicolour coat had a daughter. The tiny child would curl up in the warmth of the coat when it was new and close her bright eyes.

She said it was like sleeping in the sky. The deep wood bench groans as the lady in the technicolour coat takes her place, settling in heavily where hundreds had sat before. The seat is worn but sturdy, a sentinel reminder of the station’s history, when wood and stone laced together in a testament to the grandeur of the railways, when gloved hands exchanged thick paper tickets. Before the neon trickles of modernity began seeping through the pores of the tiled walls, snaking over the roof and the floor and the archways like ivy with moving images and interactive advertising. The lady in the technicolour coat removes a violin from her suitcase, running her hands along its familiar curves. The station sighs as another rush of feet streams in from the street, curves around its body and disappears into its bowels. The lady in the technicolour coat pulls her robe around her, fingering the faded fabric and enveloping herself in the folds. The movement reveals the remnants of a butterfly tattoo nestled in the crepe-paper skin of her arm. It moves with her as she begins to play her instrument, its shaded wings as pale and slippery as soap. Just because she’s tattered, doesn’t mean she’s not beautiful.

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How Can Australia Be Racist?

Mikele Prestia explores the argument of whether Australia is racist and why it’s still an important conversation to be had.

Words by Mikele Prestia | Images by Rachael Sharman

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Recently, in a first-year class I regrettably find myself taking in my fifth year, our tutor prompted the class to debate whether Australia was a racist country. In predominantly white settings, this discussion topic usually prompts the clench and shiver I anticipate I’ll produce immediately before my first prostate exam.

It’s not that I don’t feel strongly about this issue; I do.

Or that I don’t wish to discuss and debate it; I do, a lot.

"Don’t be a pussy; drink, don’t wear that: you look like a wog.

Don’t speak Greek here; this is Australia."

I think my ambivalence towards engaging in a ‘debate’ about this issue is that I don’t think it deserves to be a debate; I honestly think it is inarguable that Australia is a racist country.

I’ve noticed that many of my friends (who are predominantly cisgender heterosexual males from diverse ethnic backgrounds) treat the concepts of misogyny and homophobia with the same transient apathy you would reserve as a child for the morning yoga on before Cheese TV. However, when it comes to race, the discourse is different. I mainly attribute this to many of my black friends challenging and educating me about what it means to live as a person of colour in Australia. The dialogue regarding race is led and shaped by the voices

of those who have experienced the fickleness with which race can be used against you. Not by those observing the issue with the privilege of detachment.

To my mind, this is due to Australia’s inability to reflect on its own racism. Recently, our Federal Government has been considering amending section 18(c) of our Racial Discrimination Act. Although voted down by the Senate, had the amendment passed it would have lowered the threshold for racial vilification from ‘insult, humiliate or intimidate’ to ‘harass’.

The extent of the racism I’ve encountered was being called a ‘greasy wog’ and being told to ‘go back to Greece’ in predominantly Anglo-Saxon schools and social circles. It does hurt, especially to a young boy in high school experiencing the dissonance of cultural values not your own being idealised to the exclusion of all others: don’t be a pussy; drink, don’t wear that: you look like a wog. Don’t speak Greek here; this is Australia.

When my tutor put the question to the class ‘Is Australia racist?’ eyes rolled in the room, heads turned to look at their laps and fingers fidgeted pensively. ‘I mean, we’re a multicultural society, we can’t be racist’, one guy said.

‘Would we take refugees from war torn countries if we were racist?’ piped up another.

If we, as white Australians, committed even half of the energy we expend in simultaneously justifying and cloaking our privilege to educating ourselves as to why the people of colour in this country – on whose backs we so indignantly stand – the door for progress would be opened.

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"Otherwise, every time someone wiped their ass standing up, we would be forced into a national debate about whether Australia was a country of standing wipers or sitting wipers."

I’ll address the specific questions of the blokes in my class, cause I know they’re frequently used as deflectors in the racism debate. Australia’s annual refugee intake through the United Nations High Commission on Refugees (UNHCR) is ranked 3rd in the world.

Commendable! Bravo! Shove that up your ass! etc.

This statistic is misleading for a number of reasons. The United Nations is not the exclusive gatekeeper for those seeking refugee status. When it comes to refugee intake and resettlement overall, Australia is ranked 25th in the world (32nd per capita).

On this revised list, the top five countries are Turkey, Russia, Tanzania, Germany and the United States. In 2015 alone, Turkey took in 2.5 million refugees or 0.03 refugees per capita. Comparatively, Australia took in 9,400 refugees in the same year or 0.0004 per capita.

Despite the fact that seeking asylum is quite literally a human right, and that the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Torture has found that our offshore detention centres violate the Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Punishments, asylum seekers are seen as ours to abuse as we want.

After all, they did have the audacity to put their and their family’s life at risk to flee persecution for the chance of a better life in this country. If you’re going to come to this country uninvited, do it the right way and invade, colonise and ethnically cleanse the people already here, like we did.

For many people, including myself, Australia is the egalitarian utopia where you can enjoy the beautiful weather, have your mates around for a beer on the

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decking in your backyard, go watch the footy, get decent pay for a decent day’s work all without giving any thought to the broader context in which we live.

I mean why would you want to talk about race? We’ve got it pretty good. Why mess with a good thing?

That’s exactly my point, that’s your Australia, my Australia. It isn’t the Australia; it’s a paradigm of race and class privilege.

For others, Australia is a cruel destination that will never be reached, or a street full of sideways glances and conspiratorial whispers, or outright verbal and physical abuse based on your appearance.

It is having your sovereign home stolen from you, with no recognition of your land rights. It’s having your children stolen from you because you couldn’t raise them to a white standard in circumstances created outside of your control.

A few months ago I was walking in the city with two of my African friends. A white Commodore suddenly flew past us and a group of men in their early twenties raucously yelled out the most abhorrent racial slurs you could call a black person, laughing as they sped off.

What struck me, and broke my heart, once the raging bile in me had subsided, was the reaction of my friends.

Much to my shame, my mind didn’t turn initially to them after the incident, it turned to running after the car and getting retribution. But their faces were absent anger. The only thing I could see was hurt and profound disappointment. They merely shook their heads and kept walking and we didn’t speak of it again that night.

My naivety couldn’t reconcile the ugliness of what I had witnessed with the fact that my friends had kept walking and maintained a light upbeat conversation shortly after.

To be clear, they didn’t just accept what had happened.

I know that the arbitrary pain inflicted on them by yet another facile racist didn’t evaporate into the night sky but was internalised alongside every other overt and covert instance of racism they have experienced since being in this country.

In my tute, another hand shoots up defiantly.

‘I think the question is inherently stupid’ he said ‘how can you generalise an entire country as racist? I mean, sure, there is racism in it but it doesn’t make the country racist’, he concluded smugly.

Yes, individual instances of interpersonal racism do not make a country racist, but it isn’t that simple a dichotomy. Otherwise, every time someone wiped their ass standing up, we would be forced into a national debate about whether Australia was a country of standing wipers or sitting wipers. I’m sorry to be flippant, but it is frustrating how far people will plunge their heads into the sand to avoid discussing race.

I truly believe all the people in my class denying systemic racism in Australia genuinely believed what they said. As a white person, acknowledging you live amongst racism is a double-edged sword.

It uncomfortably forces you to fathom that there are people around you who are incessantly treated worse than you for no other reason than the colour of their skin and it forces you to acknowledge your own complicity in it.

I’m aware that many people will decry what I’ve written as irreconcilable with the Australia they live in. That obsessive denial is what prompted me to write this article.

Just because something is invisible to you, it does not mean it does not exist.

If you found reading this slightly depressing, imagine how demoralising it is to live in a country that ideologically masturbates over its whiteness whilst bleaching the sins of its past all the while telling those it disenfranchises to get over it.

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Words by Anonymous | Images by Elise Prestia

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Jealousy, I can’t comprehend it’s intensity, A nauseating, gnawing notion that constantly envelops me, I’m so scared and paranoid of what you’ll do next, I want you to be my future, not the person I call my new ex.

So, As I sit here, looking at my phone screen, Analysing all your messages like, “What’s it all mean?”

I can’t help but wonder. Do you think about us in this way too?

Do I drive you just as insane with my actions like yours do?

Or, Am I just an afterthought on a choice that you’ve already made.

Woops, my bad, did my last text I sent you while you were in the club stop you from getting laid.

But, That’s silly. I know it is and you’ll say that’s true.

I’m just over thinking things like I know I always do.

But that’s what I mean.

This is what I’m talking about.

Jealousy, This disgusting feeling that comes from insecurities that just causes doubt.

I trust you.

Yes with all my heart.

I already know that neither of us would do anything that could ever tear us apart, But this feeling, this demon that won’t go away.

I keep silent about it as I wonder what you’ve done all day.

And then, when we meet, you give me a big smile.

And that cancerous feeling known as jealousy, Disappears for a while.

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In[ter]view Verse Mag’s Regular Graduate Interview Words conducted by Rubina Chitraker | Images supplied by Kate Parham

Beginning with a keen interest in science and getting an undergrad degree at UniSA, Kate is now pursuing a post-doctoral degree in Canada.

She tells us about her journey from Adelaide to Ontario and her work as a scientist.

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We’re not the most scientific people around but we’re really intrigued by what you do. Could you tell us what you are currently working on?

Currently I am based in Canada at Western University in the Kerfoot Lab researching how the immune system becomes over-active leading to autoimmune diseases.

My interest is in multiple sclerosis and using cutting edge microscopy to visualize the immune system in action.

What helped you shape the decision of pursuing PhD (and then the post-doctorate) and becoming a scientist?

I caught the science bug in high school, studying chemistry and biology where I realised I enjoyed understanding how things work. I then went on to study Medical and Pharmaceutical Biotechnology at UniSA, though I really didn’t consider research until I was part way through my undergrad when I began taking summer placements in a lab at the Centre for Cancer Biology here in Adelaide. I guess this is where I caught the research bug, and I went on to do an honours year which heightened my interest in vascular biology and drove me to pursue my PhD in this area. During my PhD I always had the desire to spend some time overseas experiencing a different research environment and gaining new skills, while seeing the world. I would like to thank A/Prof Claudine Bonder for introducing me to the world of medical research and providing an environment in which I have been able to acquire the skills I have needed to get where I am today.

What is your one day in life usually like?

With this type of work, no two days are the same, so I might speak about what I do over a week instead. I go to seminars by invited speakers where I hear about other research that is occurring locally and around the world. These are always great because I learn about new approaches and techniques that I can apply to my research. Other days I’m in the lab, where depending on the experiment, I might be working long into the evening on the microscope to get exciting images and movies of the immune system in action. The laboratory is a close-knit team so we are always helping each other out and having discussions about new ideas and potential experiments. Throughout my week, I also make sure to catch up on current literature relevant to my research. Reading is critical to keep up to date with new findings and see where my research fits within the greater multiple sclerosis research field.

What were expectations you had before moving to Canada to pursue your post-doctorate and what do you think of it now?

I moved to Canada to work hard and further my career so I did expect to spend a lot of time in the lab, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I also saw it

Kerfoot Spinal Cord (Cross-section of a mouse spinal cord with multiple sclerosis)

as an opportunity to travel around North America. I was very fortunate that my PhD enabled me to travel to a conference in Boston plus a few days in New York, during which I fell in love with the history, art, architecture and general atmosphere of the cities. A few years later I moved to London, Ontario (which conveniently is extremely close to Boston and New York) at the end of winter and was greeted with snow and minus temperatures, that’s when it really hit me that I was a world away from the Australian summer. Working in a lab you gain instant friends, as you’re surrounded by like-minded people, and that spills over to your social life as well. It’s funny, but some of my closest friends in Canada are expats as well.

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2016 was a big adjustment for me, starting work in a new research field, so I expect this year things will be a bit more settled in the lab. Travel wise, dream destinations for this year include getting down to Boston and New York for a few weekends and travelling to Denver for a conference.

Is it different than living in Adelaide? What are your thoughts and feelings?

Yes! Leaving my family and friends was a big deal for me, so it’s been great to be back here for a month to catch up with everyone again and try out some of the new Adelaide bars and restaurants. Another thing I’ve missed is the footy. Before I left I would go to every Port

home game, but these days I watch the replay or if I’m keen, I stay up late to watch it live.

As for London, it seems to be a university town where there is a massive influx of about 30,000 students at the start of the academic year. The students usually head home for summer and the city becomes noticeably quieter, especially after dark. Like Adelaide the summer is peppered with festivals including an International Food Festival, Sunfest (which is like Womad) and Rib fest, so my weekends are spent in the city park with friends.

London is also a much smaller city and I have managed to live without a car. Doing so, I have found myself immersed in different seasons and accompanying animals (beware, the skunk!), just by walking everywhere; and for anyone keen to travel, that is probably the best advice I can give – just get amongst it.

number of women pursuing and excelling in STEM careers. One of the major hurdles women face, not just in science, is the decision to start a family and how that will impact the progression of their career. Within science, measures have been taken to improve this, but more can be done.

What would your message be for aspiring scientists?

Love what you do, work hard and take every opportunity to learn more and challenge yourself.

Future plans? Thoughts on returning to Adelaide any time soon?

For the next few years I will be making the most of my time in Canada after which I am unsure of my next step, however I would like to bring the skills I have learnt back to Australia.

Do you feel that the number of women in STEM is growing? Are there any hurdles that you can think of, specifically for women, to progress in STEM? I’m pleased to say that throughout my studies and working life, there seems to have been a proportionate

Architecture of a mouse lymph node in an immune response

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Words by Declan Wall

A Post Pre Almost Break Up

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I drove my car to your house with a reusable shopping bag in my back seat full of your things

you started to really breathe you had a panic attack

everything you kept at mine

and so I couldn't leave

on the top shelf of my built-in cupboard with the sliding doors

and so I just held you

there I held your scent

from behind the computer chair

I sprayed it on my pillow

your chin resting on my wrists atop your collar bones

every now and then I told you breathe and I breathed in and it helped at least a little bit

if only just breathe if only anything please just breathe

I used the keys to your house on your front door I was hoping you wouldn't be downstairs so I could leave your things there without you knowing

you asked me to listen so I listened you asked me to stay so I stayed

you asked me to try that way maybe I'd be able to ease you into the reason I came

I wasn't strong enough in the end or maybe I was too selfish

but it didn't work

but maybe that's okay

because halfway up the stairs my vision blurred and flared in the fluorescent light

looking back I'm glad it didn't end that day

I sat on your bed

some of the best times came after

you started talking not me

and some of the worst

I couldn't get the words out but you grew so much you picked up why eventually

I was unhappy but I was so proud of you

when you realised I didn't want to be convinced

and I still am

you started to cry

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The artwork of Isabella Whittaker

Imag[in]e Verse Mag’s Regular Student Art & Design feature Words conducted by Rachael Sharman Images by Isabella Whittaker

Isabella Whittaker is the creator of ‘babes’, which is a collection of the grooviest people you’ve ever laid eyes on. Explore the wonderland as Verse’s very own graphic designer Rachael talks to Isabella about all things art, Instagram captions, and inspiration.

How did you initiate your ‘Babes’ business?

I have been creating babes for the last year and a bit and have just been going absolutely nuts with ideas, techniques and mediums. It wasn't until I got some silkscreens made up and started printing tops that I took a step back and realised that this idea was so much bigger than an A4 pad of babes in a sketch pad. It was at that point I decided I could try make Babes a 'thing' and dedicate every waking moment on improving and creating. Hahah to me it's so insane. I can't wait to keep expanding.

Your Babes are riveting, they express such diversity across all fields, why babes?

I'm just reflecting what I believe and what I find beautiful. I admire strength and believe their structure, both emotive and visually reflect this. I love illustrating peaceful unity between unique beings.

Oh, so we stalked your Instagram (would highly recommend) and your captions caught our eye, where did this idea spring from?

Haha, I am such an impatient person and waiting for any event was such a drag. I downloaded a countdown app that would instantly tell me how long

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I had to wait down to the second. So strange. I then found out I could go the other way and thought it'd be cool to find out how many days old I am.

From then on, all the grams I post have the day taken or created. I see Instagram as a visual diary in a way so it's a fun way of documenting in a wacky chronological order.

Also, we noticed you’ve travelled… what did this change for you?

Yes! I recently went on a family holiday to Thailand and Vietnam. The environment over there is so dynamic and there is sooo much inspo to soak up. I think this particular holiday gave me heaps of colour inspiration. There were so many gorgeous pink and orange run down, blank walls. I'm seriously digging warm colours at the moment and have applied heaps of it to the initial branding of 'Babes'.

What media do you primarily use? Techniques? Methods? What’s the dealio?

Babes started off as simple, thin pen work, which developed into watercolour quite quickly. I then went a little loopy and started moulding pins and beads for people to start wearing babes day to day. A few months back I managed to get my mitts on a little tablet so I've been drawing babes straight onto the computer, which is suuuper different but so much fun. I've even started animating them, which is knocking my socks off!!

I was then lucky enough to get some silk screens made up and have been printing babe t-shirts for about two months. Medium and technique wise, babes have no end. If it's got a surface, I'll figure out a way to whack a babe on it. Hahah.

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So, what’s next for you in the context of your business?

Oooh ahhh, I'm unsure but soooo excited to see where it takes me. I'm so pumped with the clothing that I'm doing at the moment and hope to expand on that. I've started printing on socks and bralettes which has been super cool.

I'd love to get back into the jewellery but have limited knowledge in that area, particularly firing small clay discs to paint on. (If you've got a brain for it, holla!)

Who’s your fav real life inspiration babe?

WHAT A QUESTION!!!! There are a few.. First and foremost, my ultimate babe, Skray. She's my food loving, adventure going, creative soul sister (with an exquisite gram might I add @sarayamorella). Love. Her. To. Bits.

Número dos would haaave to be the outrageously talented Hugo Gruzman.

Ugh! Where do I begin... The creativity that comes out of that man blows my mind. The snapchat art is what initially intrigued me. Seriously UNBELIEVABLE!!

The imagination he has to develop such masterpieces is truly inspiring. Such a supportive and creative being.

Three, the mighty fine dude babe, Louis Theroux. How could he not make the list?!?! I'm such a huge fan and particularly love the way he challenges and stretches people's ideas. He has this wonderful open mindedness about him. I'd like to think I take inspo from that frame of mind when creating babes.

The list goes on with the two most supportive babes I know, Stef and Soph. I'm all about strong babes and these gals are prime inspo for creating women with such power and dedication.

My final ultimate inspo babe would have to be my current studio teacher. She's this wonderfully insightful being that continues to push and question our concepts whilst maintaining this optimistic and exciting personality. Seriously. Babe.

Stalk Isabella on instagram @bellawhitts @bellawhitts.store

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Tiny Gallery Adele Pittendreigh | Sunkissed Accesories I started by looking at inspiration of these chokers in stores, and I thought to myself that I could make that! My original intention wasn’t to sell them; it was a hobby. All of a sudden all my friends wanted one. I decided that I could actually sell them at a cheap and affordable price. With my brand, I wanted to create exciting, affordable accessories that women can feel bold, beautiful and stand out from the crowd.

Instagram @ sunkissedaccessories

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IT’S TEA TIME

Edition 16 13 2017 2016/17

Words by Bridget Kerry

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I URGE YOU TO TRAVEL Travelling can include new experiences, nice views, and good food. It might even change your life.

Words by Abbey Smith | Images by Lisa Vuong I’ve read quotes and other people’s stories about travel my entire life. They tell you to book a plane ticket and just go. Go to a far away destination, without your creature comforts from home and it will completely change your life and your focus.

Well, I finally did it.

And guess what? They were absolutely right.

I hear so many conversations between students while sitting in the cafeteria or the library about how stressed they are. They are drowning in uni work, they have to work because bills are due, leaving less time for uni, and they just can’t decide what it is they really want to do with their degree.

We are a generation that is constantly connected to the Internet and to each other, leaving little time to switch off and really try to focus on our wellbeing and our health. I was one of those people. I lived through everyone else’s lives. I stalked their accounts, I wished constantly for what they had and I told myself I could never do anything with my degree until I graduated and had that piece of paper in my hand.

Travelling on my own to America scared me so much. I had a panic attack on the flight over to Los Angeles. A fellow passenger could see my white face and the look of panic and, fortunately for me, helped me. I was two seconds away from cancelling the trip, calling my mum to say I’d made a mistake and was coming home. I thank that man everyday for not allowing that to happen.

I was in a rut. Working stupid hours, only attending uni when I really had to, submitting assignments late, eating crappy food and drinking myself into a stupor every other weekend. Life wasn’t good. I was surviving, but I wasn’t living.

I thought I was fat, I was depressed and got bouts of

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anxiety so bad that I wouldn’t leave the house or the couch for days. I ate high-processed food that contained so much sugar I would have to sleep to feel better. My weight had ballooned and I was in a toxic relationship. I thought I would just have to deal with it because that’s just the way life was.

Now, the thought of continuing that life scares me so much that I get visibly upset when I think about it. I don’t think I would be writing this if I hadn’t shaken my life and completely changed what I was putting myself through.

A month in America was meant to just be a holiday.

A quick, spontaneously-booked trip I hadn’t done any planning for, but simply said ‘yes’ at the travel agent and handed over my card. In the past I’d talked about a big trip but I was too money hungry. I didn’t want to spend the nice little security blanket I had in my account.

I never realised just how much the trip would go on to save my life.

“Travelling takes you completely out of your comfort zone. You are forced to interact with people you don’t know, find directions on your own, be a tourist on your own, and only rely on yourself to survive.”

Travelling takes you completely out of your comfort zone. You are forced to interact with people you don’t know, find directions on your own, be a tourist on your own, and only rely on yourself to survive. You realise very quickly that in order to make friends, you have to be the one to talk first. You have to work out directions, ask questions and generally try to live just like a local while you are in another country.

On a 24-day tour, I travelled from LA to the Grand Canyon, hit up Vegas and went all the way down to New Orleans. From there we flew to Miami and finished in New York. Then it was the heartbreaking time to leave some of the best people I had ever met and come home to life back in Australia. These people changed my life more than some of my friends I’d known for years back home. They made me realise that life was so much more Edition 16 2017

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than waiting for opportunities to come to you. Life was more than money and crappy relationships and worrying constantly about not being good enough.

After that, home didn’t feel like home anymore. The man I was meant to be building a life with felt like a stranger and his touch didn’t settle me anymore. It made me angry. I thought about what I really wanted in life. I didn’t want to settle. I didn’t want to be a nobody anymore. I didn’t want to wake up every morning and regret the years I’d wasted.

So, I decided it was time to change. It was time to become the person I so desperately wanted to be.

I left the home we shared together. I forced myself to realise that the way I was, my health especially, was not okay. I was going to die an early death if I didn’t get it under control. And the biggest change? Healing the relationship with my mother.

Nelya Valamanesh

She was my biggest advocate and yet I treated her like she was an inconvenience. She could see how sick I was and what it was doing to both my mind and body, and instead of listening to her, I blocked her out.

This year is the first year that instead of saying ‘Far out, we’re already in May, where has this year gone?’ I actually think I’ve achieved so much in a few short months.

I have projects, work experience and completed applications for scholarships. I am working out and exercising, cooking and enjoying food again.

Most of all though, I’m happy with the direction that I am finally taking. This is how my life was meant to be all along. It’s just taken me a little bit longer to get there.

So, for anyone who feels lost, scared, confused, is dealing with a mental health illness, or just needs something to help figure out who they are and what their purpose in life is? Travel. Book that ticket, even if it’s for a few weeks and just go.

I promise you, it will give you so much more than just a holiday.

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Words by Nelya Valamanesh | Images by Rachael Sharman

Golshifteh spends a day with her grandparents and they make jam from the carrots in their backyard.

‘Carrot jam?’ you ask? Yes. Carrot jam. Delicious.

It had been a long and boring school holiday for Golshifteh. There were only three days left until the school term started and she had no exciting stories to tell her friends when she went back.

“Goli, I have to go to work today so you will have to stay with your Mamani and Babajoon”, her mother told her.

Golshifteh didn’t like going to her grandparents’ house.

There was nothing to do there. They didn’t have a TV or a computer. It was so boring. On the way over, Golshifteh pleaded with her mother. “Maman please, can’t I go with you to work? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“I’m sorry, Goli joon. That’s not possible. It will be much more fun at Mamani and Babajoon’s house, I promise.”

When they arrived at Golshifteh’s grandparents’ house, Golshifteh walked into the kitchen where she saw her Babajoon sitting at the table. He had white short hair combed back over a bald patch on the top of his head and a large shiny nose. Golshifteh sat beside him.

“Now, when you see a weed like this, you need to pull it out. Grab the weed from the very bottom and yank it out.”

Golshifteh really didn’t want to spend her day pulling weeds out, but didn’t want to disappoint Mamani either.

She leant down and grabbed a weed just like Mamani had shown her, and it came out roots and all. After a few weeds had been successfully, Golshifteh began to enjoy it. When she pulled out the next weed, she noticed something peculiar. The root on this weed was orange and thick. It almost looked like a“Ah, you’ve found my carrots. I forgot where I planted them.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it wasn’t a weed.”

Mamani took a look at the bright orange carrot and smiled. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to make jam with.”

“Salam Babajoon”.

“Carrot jam?”

“Salam Golam, how are you?”

What a bizarre thing to make jam out of, Golshifteh thought.

Golshifteh’s grandfather always called her Golam, which means ‘my flower’ in Persian.

“Goli jan,” Mamani called out from the hallway, “Now the rain has cleared we can do some gardening.” Mamani gestured to the gloves in her hands.

Golshifteh reluctantly slid on the gloves and followed Mamani into the backyard.

“Let’s pull out some more.” Mamani dashed back into the house and appeared with a plastic bowl. Golshifteh helped Mamani pull out more carrots from the garden.

“Are they the missing carrots from the garden?”

Babajoon asked when Mamani and Golshifteh were back in the kitchen, chuckling to himself.

“They sure are,” Mamani replied.

“Firstly, you have to peel and grate the carrots,” Mamani said as she passed a grater and bowl to Golshifteh.

Mamani passed the peeled carrots to Golshifteh and she, in turn, grated them into a large metal bowl. After all the carrots were grated, Babajoon poured two cups of sugar and two cups of water into a pan and placed it on the stove.

“Golam, can you please bring me the cardamom pods from the pantry?”

Golshifteh opened the pantry and the smell of dried rose petals and mint filled her nostrils. The pantry was full to the brim with jars, packets of spices and foods, but she didn’t see any cardamom pods.

Before she could ask Babajoon where they were, Mamani shouted, “Look straight ahead and to the left.”

There were many different jars all neatly placed in rows with make-shift tags. She grabbed the one that said ‘cardamom’ and brought it to Babajoon.

“Now, listen carefully so you can learn. You bring the sugar and water to a boil. After, we add the carrots, cardamom and -” Babajoon paused and looked over to the orange rinds. “That’s it!”

He grabbed a handful and dropped it into the pan.

Golshifteh thought maybe with the orange peel, it might not be so terrible after all.

“I think it is time for the carrot,” Babajoon announced.

Mamani grabbed the bowl of grated carrot and slowly scooped it into the pan. Golshifteh was assigned the job of stirring.

“Okay, I think it’s time for the rosewater and lime juice.”

Babajoon said once he added all of the ingredients to the pot as Golshifteh continued to stir.

Mamani grabbed a teaspoon and tried some of the hot jam. “Mmm… I think it’s done. Would you like to try?”

“No thank you,” Golshifteh said, shaking her head

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“Okay but you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Mamani replied.

“Okay Golam, this is the tough part.” Babajoon ladled the steaming hot carrot jam carefully into each jars as Golshifteh watched carefully.

“It smells so good in here!” Golshifteh’s mother arrived and walked up to Babajoon to see what was going on.

“Of course it does, we have been making carrot jam,” Babajoon replied.

After Babajoon finished jarring the jam, everyone sat down to drink tea and enjoy some fresh carrot jam.

Golshifteh hesitantly tried the carrot jam on bread and was pleasantly surprised. The carrot jam wasn’t at all like what she expected and she even asked for seconds.

When they left, Mamani gave Golshifteh her own jar of carrot jam to take home with her.

On the drive home, Golshifteh realised that her holidays were not boring after all, and she couldn’t wait to tell everyone on Monday about making carrot jam with her grandparents.

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My Soul is Autumn Words by Arnis Silvia | Images by Taylor Summers

my age is summer my soul is autumn I spent my sorrow in winter strived and conquered I sprung in the spring

summer is packing her bag departing at the end of March autumn is waving her flag

once upon an autumn

above the Adelaide sky arch

green leaves began to fade tarnished by the fierce of summer

sunny days soon leave

surrendered the green be laid

as happiness blue skies soon gray

April's fizzle breaks and aches

in sober

the optimist hope of a weakened tree in whose I heard the song of despair

rain drops at the bus window

for the futile fight and unmet fair

in one summer afternoon sky cries for its soul hollow

O..dull men, their lives resemble the leaves

gloomy days come soon

bleached the whole season by their works shattered in tire and boredom

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beauty has its end

tossed down to the earth and blown

even the sun has to set

along with the discarded passion

joy has no extend

O..overthrown affection and connection

excitement turns into upset

your negligence bothers my mind

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V

X: Student Voice

Winter is here for UniSA students and exams are not far away (at all), so what's the game plan?

Words & Photos by Rubina Chitrakar

Carli Voiklis Bachelor of Business (management) With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I go to the gym sometimes, it makes me not think about the stress. It makes me relax and in a way to get rid of all the toxins.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I’ll stay on the couch with a blanket and watch TV. I’d just stay inside and keep warm. That’s definitely what I’d do.

Manas Dadhaniza Foundation Studies (ELICOS) With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I would listen to soft music but also different kinds. And One Direction songs.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I would just wear warm clothes.

Jasmine Belford Bachelor of Tourism & Events and Marketing With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

Drink a hot cup of tea, take a bubble bath and take my dog for a walk.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

Stay in bed and not do anything.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

Lazy Song by Bruno Mars, it’s the only I can think of.

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Nikki Harrison Bachelor of Marketing and Communication With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I go to the gym to take my mind off studies a little bit, and then study more maybe. I have assignments and I haven’t really thought about exams to be honest.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I don’t know, probably stay at home watching some movie. All rugged up and warmed up.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

A slow song but no particular song in mind.

Sarah Cotler Bachelor of Tourism and Event Management With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I like to hang out with my friends and just spend time with my family. It helps me take my mind off it. I am pretty relaxed and I am not too bad with stress so I am pretty lucky in that.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I would be outside, definitely. I love the weather and I think I’d just try to convince my friends to come outside as well. It’s my favourite time of the year.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

Acoustic music, that would be really relaxing. Can’t think of a particular song.

Tayler Lyng Bachelor of Psychology With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I like to hang out with my friends and just spend time with my family. It helps me I hang out with my friends and also watch horror movies.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I would just stay inside with blankets. A perfect cold winter day is not cold (laughs). I like warm sunny days, it’s more like the weather of the place where I am from.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

Probably sad music, maybe a old Avril Lavigne song.

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Holly Blooflat Bachelor of Biology With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

Usually go for a run or do pilates. But I would sometimes also watch movies.

Horror movies. And I would just lay down and listen to music. Some Elvis Presley.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

I would probably snuggle up with some blankets and watch movies as well.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

Music by Michael Buble - Cold December Night.

Sarah Al-Hashmi Foundation Studies With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

I like sitting alone sometimes and isolating myself. Also by doing things that don’t remind me of studies like going out to the beach and reading.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

Um, nothing would really change from my normal routine, so just like a usual day.

Michael Michell Bachelor of Business and Marketing With exams around the corner, how would you relax when you are stressed?

For me it would be going to the gym, playing video games. Those are probably the two main de-stressors for me.

What would you do in a cold wintry day?

Given the choice of not having anything to do, I would probably be in bed later than I’d usually be. Just rug up and try not to leave warm areas.

One song to describe winter perfectly?

More like jazzy music. Chillstep actually, it’s like an easy electric routine music. It is good for studying too.

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A Word from your

USASA Student President Following the National Union of Students Talk About It survey report that detailed the high levels of sexual harassment and assault prevalent in university campuses, Hunting Ground film screenings, and the Universities Australia Respect Now Always poster campaign, the Human Rights Commission released a national survey in 2016 for students to take. The survey asked Australian university students to describe their experiences on campus around safety and respect, investigating the level of sexual violence in Australian university campuses, with the report to be released on August 1. Due to the pressure from student organisations such as End Rape on Campus and the National Union of Students, the Commission has promised to release respective data to individual universities and has said that the recommendations will be published under “actions” in the report.

Having key student organisations present in the room when decisions are being made is vital to ensure that the student interest at the core.

Ensuring that USASA has a strong relationship with organisations such as the National Union of Students and End Rape On Campus is pivotal to having a connection and understanding of the national perspective on issues related to student safety. In 2016, USASA ran petition stalls across campuses, supported the NUS Support Student Safety, Stop the War on Women campaign, and lobbied for the university to review their policies on sexual harassment and assault. Doing so meant that the policy review became a core part of the UniSA Well-Being Action Plan, placing it on the agenda of senior management. Recent media coverage of UniSA has shown just how important it is to have students making universities accountable for their practices and procedures. Under the directions of the new-in-2017 Well-Being Working Group, Yarrow Place (the only sexual assault service in South Australia)

provided a full-day training of “Recognising and Responding to Disclosures of Sexual Assault” which was attended by representatives from USASA, Wirringka Student Services, UniSA Counselling, and UniSA Security. The training highlighted the need of front-line services to be equipped with training and knowledge with a holistic approach surrounding safety and respect on-campus.

For UniTopia in May, the USASA Women’s Committee organised a consent stall teaching students about the concept of consent with tea and lollipops. We have also launched our petition for women’s spaces endorsed by the USASA Board in 2016, which you can sign at: megaphone.org.au/petitions/unisa-we-wantwomen-s-spaces We will be partnering with UniSA Counselling to roll out the UniTopia stalls. Starting in May, USASA (including myself and Post-Graduate Representative Louise Kyriaki) and End Rape On Campus (including Founder Sharna Bremner) will be on a working group with UniSA Senior Management to review UniSA’s policies and procedures. It will be important to have EROC involved because of their landmark report “Connecting the Dots: Understanding sexual assault in university communities” released this year, which includes student experience and recommendations for universities. I hope that we can achieve real change in policy and practice for students at UniSA in 2017, particularly for students like Jane.

- Kayla Dickeson Kayla.Dickeson@unisa.edu.au If you’re feeling distressed about any of the topics mentioned, you can contact 1800 RESPECT for trauma-trained domestic violence and sexual assault counsellors. You can contact Yarrow Place, the domestic violence and sexual assault service on (08) 8226 8777. You can also access UniSA Counselling and the UniSA Medical Clinic.

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June

What the heck is there to do around here? These things.

Songs For The Departed 3rd Year Students from the University of South Australia is proud to present On The Record- Songs For the Departed, a rock n’ soul bio that explores the challenges and impacts of the music industry on stars Kurt Cobain, David Bowie, Amy Winehouse, George Michael, Whitney Houston and Johnny Cash.

Previews: June 6th Tuesday, 7th Wednesday, 7pm.

Performance: June 8th Thursday, 9th Friday, 7pm.

Saturday 10th, 7pm.

Tickets: www.cabaretfringefestival.com

6th: On the Record: Songs for the Departed

9th: USASOE SnapCrawl 9th-24th: Adelaide Cabaret Festival

11th: Gourmet Winery Day Trip Sea & Vines Festival

12th: Queens Birthday Public Holiday

14th: World Blood Donor Day

17th June - 1st July: SP2 Exams

Club & Leadership Grant Application Deadline If you have an exciting idea that needs a kick-start, USASA may be able to help you out! The Clubs and Leadership Grant Programs offer grants of up to $2,500.

Successful initiatives provide opportunities for students to develop the non-academic (or extra-curricular) student experience.

More info: USASA.sa.edu.au/grants

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30th: Club & Leadership Grant Application Deadline

July

Or these things.

Be a Part of SALA! Simply submit your artwork online and be a part of the USASA 2017 SALA exhibition! See your work on campus and take part in a celebrated state-wide arts festival, but you also have the chance to win a share of $1000 in prizes. Visit USASA.sa.edu.au/CampusArt

2nd: Art on Campus Submission Deadline

2nd-9th: NAIDOC Week

3rd-21st: Mid Year Break

5th: Verse Edition 17 Submission Deadline

14th-30th: Umbrella: Winter City Sounds

17th-21st: Mid Year O-Week Submit to Verse!

If you’ve got something to say, let us be your platform!

We love submissions of all kinds on any topic you’re passionate about. Email contact@versemag.com.au with your writing or artwork. This is your chance to have your voice and work published!

21st-23rd: AvCon Festival

28th: Club & Leadership Grant Application Deadline

28th-30th: Adelaide Beer & BBQ Festival

If you’d like to organise an event, join or start a club! Visit USASA.sa.edu.au/clubs

Background Images by Emma-Lucy Cuppleditch

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Shotgun Get lost for a while in Beth Merry’s story about escape.

Words by Bethany Merry | Images by Emma Cuppleditch

He sounds the horn in the car he was only just able to afford. She slips out the front door quick as the wind, tear-stained. He turns over the ignition. She slides into the car.

They drive. In silence.

His eyes do not leave the road. Hers do not leave her lap.

Slowly, they creep away from the city. The road rumbles beneath them, pockmarked with potholes. The sky is an inky blue outside. It’s littered with smoky clouds and gemstone stars. She tucks her long hair behind her ear, and sighs. His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.

There’s nothing in the distance but hope.

“We had to go,” he says.

She nods.

“There was no other way,” he tries again.

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“There was one other way,” she murmurs.

He sets his mouth in a hard line. She hangs her head.

“What are you thinking about? About us?”

He asks quietly.

She lifts her eyes to meet his. He turns back to gaze at the empty road in front of them.

“I think that this was the right thing to do. But that doesn’t mean it was easy.”

His eyes close gently, for only a second or two. “When it comes to you and me, it never will be.”

“I used to laugh at everything they said,” she says, turning her tear-filled eyes to the sky. “I never thought it meant anything.”

They pause. His knuckles turn white. Her small hands worry the hem of her skirt.

“Are we doing the right thing?” She asks.

He nods firmly. “I can feel it in my heart.”

“So can I,” she whispers. “So why does it feel like the wrong thing?”

“Because it hurts.”

On they drive, the city behind them becoming nothing more than a memory. The sun is beginning to rise, illuminating the sky with bluish grey tones. Light shines behind them, grabbing at the road, like the skyscrapers are beckoning them home.

He moves his hand to change gears. She rests her hand atop his. They turn to each other and smile sad smiles.

She sighs and leans her head back in her seat.

His heart glows.

“Where are we going, anyway?” She asks, voice softened with fatigue.

“No idea,” he grins. “I thought we could just get lost for a while.”

She closes her eyes. He rubs his thumb across the back of her hand.

“Where will we get lost?” She asks sleepily.

“Anywhere we want,” he assures her. “As long as we’re together.”

She nods, relief finally washing over her. He feels the weight on his shoulders melt away.

“I could just stay right here until the day I die,” she says.

“I’ll be right there with you,” he says.

“We should just go back to before,” she says, brightening suddenly. “Before everything got so complicated. Before any of this ever started.”

He grins. “I know just the place.”

The light in their eyes spark in unison. Their hopeful smiles sing out in harmony.

The city eventually gets lost behind them. And with it, the shadows of their former selves. They drive together, hand in hand, until the road runs out. They wander through meadows and dirt tracks, eyes on the horizon, minds on each other.

And there’s nothing in the distance but hope.

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Open Letter Words by Chantel Bongiovanni | Images by Emma Cuppleditch

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Heaps Good Friends: Profiling Emma Fradd Words by Bridget Kerry | Images by Wade Whitington Illustrations provided by Heaps Good Friends

There aren’t a lot of musos who can say that one their first gigs together as band is opening a sold-out festival to 17,000 people. However, Emma Fradd from Heaps Good Friends sure gets that boasting right. With a genre as sweet and unique as them, the “peanut brittle pop with txt msg lyric” band recently opened the first leg of Groovin the Moo in Adelaide.

“It was like I was going into battle and I had one of my best buddies with me and a new recruited buddy and they had really big weapons,” Emma said describing the scene. “I just knew we were going to win because I was already having fun before I got out there.”

The 27-year-old singer-songwriter and instrumentalist is one third of the band Heaps Good Friends and this was one of the biggest gigs she’d ever played.

“Just to see people sing a song I wrote is pretty wicked,” she said. “It’s like I don’t know those people you know? I didn’t email them and tell them to learn it before the gig ... So to see strangers sing my song was really special.

Plus, my mum and dad were there which was cute as … It just felt like a place I wanted to be more often.”

Emma was born in the small town of Port Pirie in South Australia where she lived with her parents and

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two brothers. She found her passion for music in high school where she quickly caught on to any instrument she picked up. With her older brother also in bands throughout school, it was natural for Emma to follow in that direction.

But with Nick settled in Adelaide and Emma not planning to move back anytime soon, working together is challenging with travel costs chewing into their budget. However, Emma stays optimistic about the future.

“I love being in bands. It’s just a lot of fun to get together with friends and get into that special musical bond that happens,” Emma said. “Like the best part of being in a band is when you run out of inspiration you can kind of lean on the other person. But then if you’ve got the inspiration then being a solo artist you can just run with it whatever way you want. So they’re both pretty special and I’ve enjoyed both settings.”

“We’re just kind of taking it as it is,” Emma said. “But [the distance] can be good as well cause it’s kinda like ‘okay we’ve got two days to write a song so let’s do it’.

We don’t have any other option, so it’s good to kind of keep us ahead as well.”

At the age of 18, Emma moved to Canada where she pursued charity work and a solo music career. Living there for six years, Emma built a “great community” around her and went on to record and tour two solo acoustic albums. Her music then took her to England when she met good friend Joanna Grennan and formed two-piece dynamic dream pop band, Interior Castle.

Despite music not paying well, the duo decided to pursue their band as their fulltime income.

“I was like this is the band, this is it, this happening,” Emma said.

But after a year and a half of touring, Interior Castle went their separate ways and Emma returned to Australia in 2016 where she now resides in Brisbane. Ever since then, Emma and long-time muso friend Nick O’Conner have been killing the Triple J music scene with their stream of fun and dance inducing tunes on Triple J Unearthed.

“We were kind of like ‘oh I haven’t seen you in forever let’s write a song’ because that’s what we would always do,” Emma said.

It’s definitely not hard to see why the pair work so well together with Emma speaking so highly of her other band member. Meeting over a decade ago whilst recording demos, Nick and Emma just clicked.

“Back then [Nick] was definitely my biggest mentor,” she said. “I really just connected with him musically and I liked everything he had to say about music and he really just gave me a great opportunity to put my music on CD ... We’ve always just been friends that are musical.”

Describing their sound as “peanut brittle pop with txt msg lyrics”, their quirkiness is evident in their music.

“Everyone likes peanut brittle,” Emma laughs. “And then I really wanted something about our lyrics to be in our genre because our lyrics are pretty special.

I also see how [songwriting] changes my mood and makes me instantly happy. A lot of my lyrics I take from conversations I’ve had with people you know? Things that they say or things that I’ll think about. I think it was Lachie Macara from Triple J who said sometimes our lyrics sound like they come straight from text messages so we were like okay peanut brittle pop with text message lyrics.”

The band’s latest single Let’s Hug Longer sky rocketed in popularity and quickly made the Triple J rotation, clocking over 20,000 Youtube hits. Emma said she would frequently take breaks at work to have a little listen to her music on the radio. With this success, the band has also recently expanded from a duo to a trio to accommodate live sets. “[Dan’s] been such a beautiful new asset to our band,” Emma said. “He’s very, very positive and he’s an incredible drummer. He’s a young guy so he brings a bit of flair to our band.”

Like all musicians and music lovers, music plays an important part in Emma’s life and she said she will be eternally thankful for the experiences she’s had.

“We’re really grateful for the response and how helpful Triple J have been and I’m just keen to keep going I guess!”

Check out Heaps Good Friends at Scouted Super Mini Fest- Friday 28th July

@wadewhitington @groovingthemoo @heapsgoodfriends

Peanut Butter

Vegemite

Butter

PB is the bomb (unless you’re allergic to nuts in which case I am truly sorry you miss out on heaven on earth). With a protein hit that’s bound to kickstart your morning, it’s no wonder this is staple in Aussie pantries. Even if you’re not bulking, this is packed with the healthy fats your body needs (in moderation – eating it out of the jar doesn’t count as healthy sorry!).

Plus, the texture that CRUNCHY PB gives is A+. Why would you even bother with smooth PB when it’s upper class cousin is available, c’mon up your game.

Australian children are basically 75% Vegemite. Continuing into adulthood, I would argue this is still the recipe for happiness. It’s basically Australian liquid gold.

Of course, you must combine it with correct ratio of butter for optimum bliss (for me that’s a huge slavering of Vegemite, none of this more butter bullshit). But seriously though does anyone actually know what Vegemite is made out of?

Australia needs answers!

Okay so you’re either really hard up for cash or to be frank, a little boring. THIS IS BREAKFAST. I personally get so excited about breakfast and this just does not do it for me. I cannot see myself wanting to remove myself from bed for well, butter on toast. I mean if you were combining it with eggs and bacon or something then maybe, but not on its own. No way.

HOWEVER, on a more positive note, you are not the sociopath who just eats plain dry toast /shudders.

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How to have the breakfast of champions when you’ve only got toast.

Nutella

Jam

Honey

I cannot accept this chocolate spread (or hazelnut spread if you want to be politically correct) as a breakfast condiment. As much as you dress it up as hazelnuts, it’s chocolate and sugar and it belongs in a dessert. It’s like eating cake for breakfast. I love the idea of it but it lacks practicality. And yet despite all of this, I will shamelessly eat Nutella out of the jar EVERY time.

Much like honey, I feel like jam on toast gets the rep that it belongs in a retirement home. Out of curiosity, I wonder how many of those mini sachets of jam at hotels actually get used? Jam, my friends, is a sweet fruity deliciousness we have neglected for too long. Sugary and lacking nutritious value, yeah you could say that but as an it’s an 1800s classic and the only thing in the pantry, I will forgive it just this once.

Honey on toast is underrated.

It’s great and it gets you that sugar fix you crave without the nasty artificial stuff. It might be something ‘mature’ aged people might eat for breakfast but it’s good stuff. Chop a bit of banana if you’ve the extra cash to splash and it is quite the treat.

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Hello, this lack of sunshine is rattling our brains, not sure about you?

Thankgod, the semester is almost at it's end, so stick to it and get through it!

March 21 - April 20

April 21 - May 21

May 22 - June 21

Try to be patient. *watch the birds* #SOLITUDE

Believe in your own truth. *eat citrus* #VALIDATION

Make the move to be alive! *sunshine & deep breaths* #POWER

September 24 - October 23

October 24 - November 22

November 23 - December 22

Have you been on edge? *try pumpkin soup* #PERSIST

Put yourself in control. *have a glass of milk* #POSITION

Go an stand right at the top. *climb a hill* #VIEW

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June 22 - July 23

July 24 - August 23

August 24 - September 23

What is the problem? *have tea over coffee* #SOLVE

Renew childhood charms. *lollipops and jelly babies* #SWEET

Distinguish need from want. *sacrifice technology* #LIVE NOW

December 23 - January 20

January 21 - February 19

February 20 - March 20

You've been working hard? *Lounge about* #REST

Indulge without guilt. *chicken nuggets* #ENJOY

You've had IT all along! *update status* #CONNECT

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