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Empty Chair by Rachel Maree Matheson

Still and solid you were When we meet in Mallee. Rich, smooth, and lined Are you to feel. However, to see and hear, Empty and desolate are you. Why do you remain empty, When I long to see? I want to hear your voice, Come hither to me. But alas! Foreign and far, You remain to me. Empty and inanimate, You do not grow. Why do you not speak? Are you afraid? Perhaps you are ashamed, of humanity’s disgrace, and chose to remain still. I wonder what you would say, If you had your way. Though try as I might, Inanimate you stay. Move! Move! Speak! Speak! Please tell us the stories, of those we cannot meet. But forever you remain, Solid, still and empty. You don’t move, You don’t grow, You don’t speak. You don’t do anything, But sit in place of those, Wh
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Mildura's New Loving Tree (Media Release) by Rachel Matheson Murphy

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The Loving Tree has been immortalised by this year’s Writer in Residency, Carrie Tiffany. An audio recording of John Shaw’s The Loving Tree, features voices from the local community, was Carrie Tiffany’s chosen project for the 2017 Mildura Writers Festival. The Loving Tree project was unveiled at the festival’s Mid Winter Feast on Saturday the 15 th of July. The project has been hailed as a success, for interacting and including the Mildura community within the broader cultural landscape of Australia. “Carrie Tiffany’s interpretation of The Loving Tree was beautiful. It has given the people of Mildura a voice and a sense of strength”, festival attendee Phoebe Bray said.   Carrie Tiffany was born and bred in Western Australia, and has had tremendous success with both her novels, short stories, and essays. Her first novel, Everyman’s Rules for Scientific Living , was the winner of the 2006 Western Australian Premier’s Fiction Prize and the Dobbie Award. Her second novel,
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Farwell Letter by Rachel Matheson Murphy

Karina, with your contagious smile and laugh. You made our group brighter, and your passion for the Mallee Region is inspiring. Good luck with your wedding and I hope you have the best day! Phoebe, your kindness shows in all you do. You’re an editor, through and through. I’m so happy that you have found a home in Mildura! Shivaun, the quiet and brilliant pocket rocket of the group. Our group would not have been the same without you. By the way, your son is just the cutest! Rebecca, your hair in plaits, shawl, and big smile is how I’ll always remember you. Your writing on Les Murray was truly enlightening. Continue to let your gentle spirit set you apart. Kate, your story of finally making your writing a priority was so uplifting. I hope you succeed in creating brilliant poems about the Mallee region. Sue, your passion for teaching us Writers in Action is just inspiring. I hope to find something I enjoy doing, just as much as you enjoyed teaching us. Gail, your eloqu
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A Guide to Mildura by Rachel Matheson Murphy

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Memoirs from the Mildura Writers Festival July 12, 2017 - Wednesday  As I arrived in Mildura, I felt a state of nervousness and wonder. It had been many years since I was last in Mildura, and I was surprised at the beauty of Mildura and the Mallee region. Having never been to a writer’s festival, and neither classifying myself as a writer, I had no idea of what to expect. Checking into our accommodation, I reflected on the drive. I remembered the peculiar feeling that I experienced whilst looking out the window as Amanda was driving. I felt as if I was standing on the very edge of the horizon, with nothing to see but land and sky. I felt as if I were a world away from Bendigo, and my heart was lifted. I wanted to experience something new and hoped that this would quiet the ever-growing travel bug within me, at least for a little while. July 13, 2017 - Thursday I’m so glad that we had full day to get prepared for the Festival in class and organise what each group
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Heart of the Mallee by Rachel Matheson Murphy

If reading and writing is all you desire, The heart of the Mallee is all you require. Where the trees grow tall, And the sky is wide. The ground quakes with hunger, When the writers descend in lustre. A piece of themselves, Forever we’ll hold. Into our hearts, together to grow.
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