Sure, it’s been a year like no other.
I might even be tired of saying that, except, a few weeks out from its end and hopeful that 2021 will be very different, COVID and the bushfire season of last summer, have shown us that this is the present situation. We occupy the planet precariously.
Not only has 2020 drawn attention to our interrelatedness, but also the tight connection between all the facets of our lives simultaneously working and caring (for pets, partners, housemates, and children) and the specificities of each place: in my case walking a new neighbourhood – the inner west of Adelaide.
It has been a year of hardship, for some unimaginable loss. With no crisp boundaries and forever changing routines domestically, the unfolding global health and economic crisis has made focusing on anything other than survival a bit of an ask.
(As an aside, what happened to meals? I spent my waking hours preparing snacks, clearing away deep frying experiments, smoothie bowls and slime experiments).
I couldn’t have made it without some especially good people, namely my family, friends and collaborators.
I want to extend thanks to all the activists leading the charge. Individual and collective action on gender, race, disability, labour conditions and the environment makes a difference.
Australia Post recognising Aboriginal place names on mail and the visibility and recognition of gender fluid and non-binary folks just generally is leading my list of positives for this frankly fucked up year.
Image: 7 December 2020, Blewitt Springs, Kaurna country. Photo: Anna Zagala
