



Olive Pink’s life floats off the page – very much the character I’ve come to know and admire while translating her experience into music across this past decade. Colleen Keating gives us a seriously beautiful work based on research that brings Olive vividly to life. It is wonderful to see the astonishing story of this Australian woman Olive Pink, given the attention she so deserves.
Such a visionary.
Emeritus Professor Anne Boyd AM Composer of the Olive Pink Opera

Central Australian Aviation Museum 6 Memorial Ave, Gillen
Free event, no bookings required
Join authors Cath Bishop, Eleanor Hogan and Colleen Keating for a lively evening of conversation and readings from their books about these complex white women who thought Aboriginal lives mattered and challenged boundaries of female behaviour.
And visit Olive Pink’s grave

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL SHORT LISTED. I FEEL PROUD TO BE NAMED AMONGST SUCH A GREAT GROUP OF WOMEN. THANK YOU. I AM HAPPY FOR OLIVE PINK THAT HER STORY IS OUT THERE FOR ALL TO KNOW THIS WOMAN WHO WAS LOST TO HISTORY FOR THE PAST 50 YEARS
CELEBRATING WOMEN WHO WRITE
FICTION JUDGED BY MARGARET WICK
Maureene Fries Stones. Bones and Hollyhocks
Helen Lyne Disappointment and Other Joys of Life
Catherine McCullagh Secrets and Showgirls
Susan Steggall The Heritage We Leave Behind
Julie Thorndyke Divertimento
Kelly Van Nelson The Pinstripe Prisoner
NON FICTION JUDGED BY SYBIL JACK
Valerie Clifford Fijian Shadows
Jan Conway Skimming the Surface – Expats in Kiribati
Robyn Elliott Sing the Burnt Mountain
Kate Forsyth & Belinda Murrell Searching For Charlotte
Colleen Keating Olive Muriel Pink
Christine Sykes Gough and Me
POETRY JUDGED BY CARMEL BENDON
Anne Casey Portrait of a woman walking Home
Anne Casey the light we cannot see
Antoinette M. Diorio Attachments
Pip Griffin Virginia and Catherine, the Secret Diaries
Colleen Keating Olive Muriel Pink. Her radical and idealistic life. A poetic journey
Denise O’Hagan The Beating Heart
CHILDREN & YOUNG ADULT JUDGED BY GAIL ERSKINE
SPONSORED BY CHRISTMAS PRESS
Libby Hathorn The Best Cat the Est Cat
Libby Hathorn & Lisa Hathorn Jarman No! Never! A cautionary tale
Pamela Rushby The Mummy Smugglers of Crumblin’ Castle
Pamela Rushby Interned
GIVING WOMEN A VOICE
POETRY JUDGED BY EILEEN CHONG
SPONSORED BY GINNINDERRA PRESS
Anne Casey Architecture of Chronic Pain
Colleen Keating petal by petal
Meira Kirkwood Woman to Dog
Joanne Ruppin Bright New Home
Josephine Shevchenko Undying the Sea
Mocco Wallert A Stranger in my house


Our recent visit to the Museum of Contemporary Art with a new exhibition on recent Indigenous Art.
This full wall mural was the one i kept returning to. It made me feel so much joy and every visit I learnt something new and yet it is about a desperately sad story. Uranium Mining is threatening their homeland. Hence there is fear, stress, worry and powerlessness as it has happened before.
The map is unlike a Western Map which depicts a linear idea of a place . This map depicts water –underground, shows geography, culture, seasons, biodiversity, environment, fragility, beauty of the land and our interdependence on the it.
“We painted to save it from the uranium mine . . . and to tell them there is underground stream. There’s no water on the surface to keep the dust down. That’s why we painted this big painting – to tell them and to teach others about the water system in our land “
–Ngalangka Nola Taylor, 2014
This extraordinary painting depicts a vast area in the Pilbara region of Western Australia that encompasses the Martu Aboriginal communities of Parnngurr and Punmu,
and represents the Martu Native Title detemination area in its entirety.
Painted by nine artists from Parnngurr, it reflects the Martu people’s intimate knowledge of their desert country.
The work is a map in the most expansive sense.
Representing the landscape from below the ground to above the surface.
It brings together aspects of geography,
cultural knowledge
and seasonal time.
Through careful sequenced layers, the painting documents
the fragile, interdependent relationship
between different environmental elements,
indicating how the hidden underground waterways (kalyu) play
a vital role in the biodiversityof the areqa.

My poem written many years ago but still relevant today.
ghost of terra nullius
(in the search for a nuclear waste dump)
i arrived at Newtown community centre
free coffee plenty of flyers lots of chatter
and then sat as a welcomed outsider
beckoned by an email that plucked the right chord
(amidst all the other vibrations including
marine parks fracking dumping our reef)
a woman from Muckaty country stood
quoted a prominent politician
why on earth can’t people in the middle of nowhere
accept low and intermediate level waste
and then she faced us
unfortunately the already converted
and she answered his question
this is not nowhere mister politician
this on your Canberra map might look remote
and empty
out of sight out of mind
this is not uninhabited space
this is somewhere a sacred somewhere
we are here in this back of beyond
our ancestors breathe and live in the red dust
we are the land our dreaming
our journey our story
this land is our song
the journal we write
the pictures we paint
this red earth is home to our people
creator and creation
no separation for us
do not come here mister politician
treading this desert
puts red soil on the soles of your shoes
and you wouldn’t want that
red dust gets into your soul
makes you feel somewhere
it might choke you when the wind blows
here our horizon is circular shimmers its mirage
our population is sparse
yes it gives you space
for your uranium dump I hear you say
but we have reason to revolt at ignorance
maralinga jabaroo and we hear of chenobyl
maybe just words to you
our song is our blood poured forth
our hearts pound for our children
for us life is timeless
for you I sense a rage of time
but we have our animals and our food
we have our water our soil
our precious billabongs and springs
they are not for your contamination

Most gulls don’t bother to learn more than the simple facts of flight –
how to get from shore to food and back.
For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating.
For this gull though, it was not eating that mattered, but flying.
More than anything else, Jonathan Livingston Seagull loved to fly.
– Richard Bach
A poet as beachcomber walks the beach, sometimes with pen and paper,
gathering sights and sounds, shells and stones, scents and seagull scenes.
Yet it is not always about the waves and wind, for the sea carries the stories of the world;
how it connects and disconnects, how it gives and takes, reveals how we treat it. Humanity is always present in its deep moans and its dance of exaltation. When you listen, the ocean has much to say. Pick up Beachcomber and, like Jonathan Livingston Seagull, these poems will take you flying.

Colleen Keating is a Sydney poet. Her
poetry explores the paradox and wonder
of nature, the realities of life, of inequality,
injustice and the increasing threat to our
environment. This is her sixth collection of
poetry. For Colleen, poetry is vocational.
I not so much choose it as my medium
of expression as much as it chooses me.
Awareness, mindfulness and an unperishing
sense of wonder are my guides.




As I think of those families mourning the children who died in the Uvalde Elementary School mass shooting in Texas I find myself reflecting on the shining eyes of my Grandchildren: whispering to me about the gift they have made for their Mum for Mothers Day, describing to me how they think they saw the Easter bunny, the light in their eyes as they open the birthday gifts we bring. I think of the love I have for them and how I would do anything to protect them from evil that lurches about and my heart weeps for the Grandparents and their lost grandchildren in the Uvalde Massacre and who have to standby powerless watching their sons and daughters grapple with the loss of a child.
Poetry can not stop the pain, but poetry can give words to addressing the agony. it can stand quietly by for those who are experiencing wrenching heartbreak at this time.
In memory of Uvalde’s children
our once big world now a global village
with space and time a lillyput in a satellite realm
is real its song of humanity
its agonising cry
today’s message carries
visions of a school shooting
school photos only left–
tiny faces peering out
their shining eyes
show all the little dreams
children dream
and strip to nakedness
a whole nation
staring once again at emptiness
we are the witness
with adults bent over in pain
– many in foetal position
holding their bodies
from its bloodbath
it is said giving attention
is the rarest and purest sense of generosity
focus on
a small town a primary school
a classroom
children
focus on
the good
alive in the agony of dissent
weaving
weaving in
I am proud to have a part in the affirmation of this wonderful newly realeased book by Dr. Beatriz Copello and published by Ginninderra Press. It was successfully launched last Friday evening and let’s hope the word spreads this is a collection of poetry not to be missed.
“Beatriz Copello’s words take us on a profound journey through the perilous life we all find ourselves leading, where hope is hidden and ancestral anguish drives us to seek meaning and hope”
Anne Summers, journalist
These extraordinary poems in Witches Women and Words have our hearts beating with rage. This powerfully evocative collection speaks frankly of the twists and turns, pains, despair and hopes of the woman, the human, the poet, the abused earth, her trees and seas and biodiversity.
In a world where “soldiers march blindfolded and mute” and of “wounds that never heal” It takes us on a journey: a witch’s broom, protection of a coven, and a cauldron of life’s struggles, to become free to allow the poem of woman to be created: “the poem born the poet a god”
She will have a voice, choose her destiny. You will be spellbound as you navigate these sensuous and imaginative poems where, “the persistent Southerly is a foreigner on this piece of soil” and “senses are like a tree in winter.”
This is not meant to be a peaceful read. This powerful collection of poetry by Beatriz Copello disturbs like her muse Neruda, with “words of fire, steel and hope. ” even as she writes “hope is hidden like a miser hides his riches.”
Colleen Keating, poet
Can we conjure a better world with the magic of words? Can women, in particular, escape the cruel prison of history? Beatriz Copello believes so. Though she is “scared she learns to walk again” and “lets her blood run wild” in her new book, Witches Women and Words. Even as the horrors of history reassert themselves, even when she is blindsided by the familiarity of death and haunted by lingering wounds in an atmosphere heavy with unspoken guilt, she “chooses life”. With wit, passion and grace, and above all infinite empathy for the pains we all share, she chooses it for all of us.
Richard James Allen, poet.