I’ve walked between Moonah and New Town twice in the past week. Both times I’ve been taken aback by some graffiti.

Single-sex public education still exists in Hobart. This graffiti is on the bike track that runs passed New Town High School for boys.
It’s written three times: twice on the track; once on the adjacent wall.
It stopped me on both occasions.
I’m wondering what it means to whoever sprayed its lines, constructing sidewalk empowerment.
My thoughts go immediately to sexuality, well…it’s a boys’ school!
Then I think about individualism and adolescent development. And just how hard it is to establish who you are at that age and be true to yourself…and like that gets any easier!
It almost reads like a prayer on the bike track, an affirmation, or an ode to freedom.
I’m thinking about the choices I’ve made recently.
French toast and quince rather than scrambled egg, feta and avocado. They both had merit but I could only have one. What did I want for breakfast more, sweet, or savoury? This is a no brainer really. I generally choose sweet. But at the same time, I feel limited by the choice I have in front of me when I WANT BOTH!

I have been evolving my style and changing how I present to the world. Not everyone likes the make up and dresses that feature more frequently these days. Someone screwed their nose up at my look just last week. The thought bubble was visible over their head ‘Ick’. Meaning has been ascribed to the new dress code. It’s been noticed and in some instances, judged.

I’ve taken some risks with my career: a decision I had to make regardless of how I would be seen professionally. Sometimes it feels like there is no other option or sometimes you have to choose the path of least resistance.
Enrolling in study again after ten years feels like making a choice to grow. It’s great to choose something you know is just for your benefit.
Starting something new, exciting and connected and turning away from comfort and certainty AND doing a 180 on my identity. Some choices move heaven and earth.


The most loaded one syllable ever.
It comes in different sizes.
Tremor to seismic shift.
Sometimes with after shocks others have to live through.

Choice is about free will and that’s about the only thing each one of us has at the end of the day.Whatever the reason for writing it, or thinking about it, there’s nothing more important than that.

What choice has been important to you lately?

4 thoughts on “Choice

  1. Inspired! Love the way the two girls Can turn a walk along the bike track into something universal. A walk home one day becomes an affirmation of love and hope for the world. Keep pitting it out there!

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