L I M I N A L

Your first book, Love & Other Rituals, was a story collection. You return now with an essay collection, which comes after you return to the Philippines from living abroad after your father’s death. How were the essays in Returning to My Father’s Kitchen collected, and when did you realise that you were circling around similar topics for this book to materialise?

As fascist movements gain momentum on a global scale, political dynamics in Western democracies, in so-called Australia and elsewhere, are further entrenching racism, suppressing Indigenous and Black voices, and stifling dissent against the state. Governments frame this escalating violence as normal and necessary, making it more difficult to recognise that this repression endangers the freedom and well-being of our communities.

The spectacle is a hall of mirrors. It is an affirmation, a way of validating a reality that is unreal even as it evolves in real time. The clock ticks. Convex view. Conclave lens. It seems now almost trite to invoke Baudrillard and his simulacra, or Debord and his Societé, but their ideas endure because the challenges ahead are still waiting to be discovered, to be imagined into reality.

‘Nothing seems too out of the ordinary,’ she said, frowning at the screen. She had not yet looked me in the eye. ‘Your astigmatism has worsened, that’s all. The edges around objects will appear blurry.’ Look at me. ‘When you see lights, they might elongate and look streaky. People find this often happens with streetlamps at night.’ My sister did not meet my eyes. She typed on her keyboard and ordered new lenses that would snap outlines back into clarity for me.

When I was about fifteen, a strange sound materialised in the sky above my bedroom. It resembled a long amelodic blast of horns accompanied by a swarm of humming wasps, both eerie and grand, tinged with longing. I was at the juncture of dozing and sleep, curled up tightly under my quilt cocoon, so it took me a minute to register what I had heard. I sat up and listened in the silence that followed. I wanted to find out where it was coming from, so I slipped out of bed and threw on a hoodie.

Repeat after me. We welcome our rich overlords, our benefactors, our setters of taste. They are the achievers and creators, and it is to their opinion that we defer. We especially welcome them on boards so they can shut us down when we err. Then the default: hands folded, head bowed, a mumbled apology: Oh you generous and illustrious and intelligent and wise keeper of all the important traditions in the land where we live.

Julia’s constantly in these predicaments where she could be taken advantage of but she never is This could mean as relatively little as trading some light flattery or a meaningful glance for an Oscar party invite It could also mean the expectation of sexual favours, which, if not freely offered, might be coerced ✷ It is the role of men to protect women and to provide them with the comforts of life, with questions like, ‘Have you ever been a prostitute?’ Or, ‘Have you ever gotten gifts?’ Or,...

Judy Kuo is a unionist and self-taught visual artist activist living and working on Wurundjeri land. She has a long-held interest in the intersection of politics and art, having written her Honours thesis on the topic at the Australian National University’s School of Sociology, and now developing a politically energised personal practice of art.

The allure around clay lies in its nature as malleable soil, a medium that can be shaped by human hands to meet countless needs. We fashioned clay pots to store our grain, preserving sustenance for the future. We crafted clay tablets to record the first writings, capturing knowledge and stories for generations to come. Through clay, we have transformed the rawness of nature into abstractions of perfect geometry, creating forms that serve practical purposes and embody human ingenuity.

How do you decide which sentences to take out? Such a good question! I try to abide by the principle that in order to earn its place in a narrative, a sentence must do necessary work. Most of what I delete would be sentences (and phrases) that are doing unnecessary work.