The last time I visited the Moorabbin Oval at Linton Street, it was a chilly, desolate spot. It was winter, and a heavy mist enveloped the ground.
I’m sitting in a black vinyl covered swivel chair at Carnegie Hair place, Carnegie, of course.
It’s Friday night, Derby Day eve. I’m no punter, yet I love a racecourse. It is a mystery to me, I know.
Micro moment of lighthearted suburban theatre on a day in which a collective grief was all too consuming
“I’m getting Nandos,……. can you pick me up in the carpark?”
….waiting for pizza. The order was mixed up by an absent minded waitress, so I had time to draw this shoptop whilst I was waiting outside. Below is a barbershop.