Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet,
performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal
about town, feminist, freewheeler, and
friend. One day, she is going to be an
ideas curator. Which basically
means, she will tell you
exactly what she thinks.
Until then, you’ll have
to read between
the lines.
poetry vs cycling
This morning’s commute felt utterly utterly awful. Terrible weather meant that I took out the mountain bike, and because I haven’t ridden the damn thing in weeks, that experience was completely disorienting. My legs felt wrong, and awkward and too long and – if you have ever seen my legs – you would know that it is not possible for my legs to be too long.
That said, there was a pretty view. There is always a pretty view.
I used to have a project called Project Look Up. Sometimes I wonder if cycling isn’t just a proxy.
I also have another project called She Stole My Every Rock and Roll. It’s with a lovely poet called Betsy Turcot and I think that if you rode your bike to any of our shows between the 10 – 19 May as a part of the Anywhere Theatre Festival and you bring in your little bike helmet so that I know (on your honour) that you rode your bike there, then I think you can have a free zine. I think Betsy will allow me to do this.
Just this once.
I won’t assume that cyclists love poetry, or that you are based here in Brisbane but if you are and you do. Then I would be honoured if you would come along to the show. Poetry, it’s one of the few things I love as much as cycling. It’s a two person poetic dialogue set in a very cute record store in West End.
Here’s a little bit of what it looks like.
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