Author: bayley turner
letter to my precious body
this letter was written for and presented at the ‘Taking Up Space’ exhibition produced by Bo Bickmore and Variation Three. I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity to have contributed. listen to the audio here. hey, I don’t suppose I’ve really earned this, but I hope you feel like I’m on the way. I’m trying, I’m…
“do you still need a sign to let me drive?”
I can’t wait to see what the muses have to offer in America, where on previous visits I’ve found myself incredibly inspired by the energy, people, landscapes, cityscapes, music and styling. I can’t wait to share the work that gets created with everyone! I can’t wait to get on the bright right side of the…
have a social conscience they said. it’ll be fun they said.
Happy birthday to me. It wasn’t until I was on the train home after screaming out “kill the bill!” and “transphobia’s got to go!” and “stand up fight back!” up and down the central street of the city, surrounded by my siblings and allies, looked upon by inconvenienced commuters with mixtures of confusion, irritation, pity…
brodie is not an italian name.
This is where my story is at right now, with questions, with yearnings, with listenings and with learning to do. I believe it is important for us to position ourselves in the cultures we interact with, to evolve in our understandings of the diverse cultures we are connected to, and most importantly to show respect…
sorry, (you’re) not sorry
You apologise with your actions and your sustained commitment to making right, not with your words and your assertion that those words should warrant you being pacified and made comfortable for the effort in speaking them. An apology is something you do, not just something you declare.
happily ever after –
I found my true gender at the peak of my happiness, waiting for me, patiently, persistent. On an evening spent celebrating with dear friends, having returned from a whirlwind world trip achieving some of my lifelong dreams, I took stock of my life and realised I was – at last – truly satisfied with where…
my gender is cowardice.
remember kisschasey? that’s where it started. it was the first year of school, so we would’ve all been five years old. The way the game works is that girls get a head-start then the boys take off to catch and kiss a girl each, after which the pursuit reverses, with the girl chasing the boy…
the bride wore bitter.
Dearly Belittled… We have voted here today… Yeah, I know. One week ago. I haven’t cried about it. Not once. I confess I’ve been almost entirely indifferent because I can’t get the questions out of my head; what if this whole public vote regarding our rights was for something we actually needed? While the right…