One small way we can express solidarity with Palestinian artists, writers and musicians is by learning about their work and sharing it with others, writes Markela Panegyres.
Art & poetry
For five nights in May, three locations around Warrane (Sydney Cove) will be transformed with images, music and stories of the lives and resistance of Sydney’s Black, queer and grassroots communities, writes Rachel Evans.
The Members Coalition Teams that contested the NSW Public Sector Association election were the surprises of the recent vote, reports Kerry Smith.
Returning from his time as a US Army Special Forces medic in Afghanistan and Iraq, Graham Barnhart had much to think about and utilised poetry as his sounding board, writes Barry Healy.
October 18 marked one year of mass protests for systemic change in Chile, and one year of brutal repression, writes Sandra Cuffe.
Efrain Ascencio Cedillo was an incredible photographer who will likely never be known outside of Mexico, because he didn’t have the privilege of being from the United States or Europe, writes Tamara Pearson.
Sam Wallman is a talented political comic artist with a strong worker and union focus in his work, writes Andrew Chuter.
Artists, gardeners and knitters have created a "guerrilla gallery" on Parramatta's historic St George’s Terrace to protest plans to demolish two of the city’s most significant heritage-listed buildings, reports Susan Price.
Alex Bainbridge reports that legendary Aboriginal activist Uncle Sam Watson has been memorialised in a new mural in West End's Bunyapa Park.
Filmmaker Zebedee Parkes sits down with Markela Panegyres, a visual artist, to discuss the impact COVID-19 is having on the arts community.
The winter of humankind draws near
Science has spoken in alarm
The day may be warm, unseasonal
Land whips at our faces
Too spoiled to take root
For all the rot we fed it
The well of life ran dry
As the last drop fell from our swollen lips
Our gods of gold had fallen short
Adorned in accolades we buried them too
Perhaps one day another kind
Will unveil our bones of mystery
On what was once such fertile ground
Should they enquire
How we never grew to regard our limits
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