Author: Tristan
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On what the sheep thinks of the sky
Wrote this in a flurry on the weekend; woke up this morning and, like magic, there it was. I’ve had a few of the ideas contained within bouncing around for a while – this was an unusual, though not unwelcome, way of forcing them down on the page, a pile of dead birds as the… Read.
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On the most human thing of all
“There’s nobody here just dogs and cattle,” said Matsumara. Well, also an ostrich, which he is now taking care of. “It was just wandering around.” (Link.) Matsumara is 83, lived in Fukushima for 80 years, and returns to the exclusion zone to feed abandoned animals. Can’t help feeling like looking after animals is the most… Read.
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Update (I)
Breaking from the usual self-indulgent tomfoolery to write an equally self-indulgent personal update – for no other reason than to keep writing. The writing is coming easy. The reading is going terribly but I’m writing a lot. Apart from a few lit journals (which seem conducive to my condition), I have returned to Brief Interviews… Read.
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On the defaced
On a recent trip to Turkey I (inevitably) spent a lot of time visiting historical sites around the country and noticed (inevitably) that a lot of the art, Byzantine cave paintings and classical sculptures, had been defaced – literally. Heads were removed and if not heads then faces and if not faces then eyes. Once-proud… Read.
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On Juno & Hannah
My review of Juno & Hannah – a Gothic story about two sisters who escape from an insular religious community and set in the bush in 1920s New Zealand – by Beryl Fletcher is up now at Verity La. With thanks to Mr Featherstone. Read.
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On Tristan Foster
“Thou foster-child of silence and slow time” Tristan Foster is not your friend. Tristan Foster is not your friend because Tristan Foster does not exist. Tristan Foster is the pen name of Franklin Tyrrell. Franklin was born in Brisbane’s south. When he was eight, he was sent to live with his grandparents in Sydney’s south.… Read.
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On the Explorer
After Campbelltown farm animals begin to appear in the fields, faces down in the grass. Everyone knows each other; or knows someone who knows each other. Everyone is a recovering alcoholic. Everyone is dead or dying. A woman hasn’t paid the difference. The conductor tells her not to worry about it – because it’s Christmas, he… Read.
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On being a question away
[A response to Brad Frederiksen] I wrote, Brad, something of an answer to your question how cool would it be if you clicked on an image and it flipped to reveal the history behind it?, which I know wasn’t exactly directed at me, or anybody else really, something further about the photos that have hung… Read.
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On Mary Journal no. 3
I ordered Mary no. 3 and they sent it to my home and I read it and wrote about it here. Read.
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On Music & Literature 3
Music & Literature 3 is now available and features my essay “Mere Dreaming” on Gerald Murnane’s novels Tamarisk Row and A Lifetime on Clouds. I share the edition with Teju Cole, Hari Kunzru, Scott Esposito, Emmett Stinson, Wayne Macauley, Matt Jakubowski, my good buddy KT Kahn and many others, as well as Murnane himself. Needless… Read.
Tristan Foster 