APWT 2024 (Asia Pacific Writers and Translators) Chiang Mai.

A Songwriter at a Writers Festival

I have pondered over the last 24 hours how I would write a blog about the amazing APWT event in Chiang Mai, Thailand that has just wrapped up.

I could detail my trip in chronological order. From my late night arrival trying to find a bite to eat in an unfamiliar city, all the way to this very moment sipping a beer in Hong Kong International Airport waiting for my late night flight back to Australia.

I could focus on the field recording adventure that took me to the Ping River and around the streets of the old city, collecting sounds for a special musical performance alongside Malaysian DJ Eri (Ashley) for the welcoming dinner.

I could try to articulate how four days of poetry, readings, debates and conversations filled my creative soul and made me want to become a better writer myself, despite that lingering feeling that I was out of my depth amongst such amazing wordsmiths.

Or I could talk about the amazing collection of films curated for the event and how, like music, film has a poetic quality that speaks just like words spoken, or those written on a page.

But maybe the best thing for me to do is to actually write something. To let inspiration run its course and to further convince myself that I do belong within this global, ragtag group of writers from around the world. Why I belonged at the event in the first place.

So here we go…

That was the river. This is the city.

(a narrative imposed, or one that flows free)

I stood on a street corner with an expat, prodding, just to see if there was some deeper truth that two white men could find as we minded each other when the cars and bikes got too close. Because there are no sidewalks here and everything is traffic. Including our words and maybe even our thoughts too.

We talked about Tradition and a half remembered quote enlightened me. Is it the smouldering ash or is it a burning flame? And do I even have the right to determine which of those is wrong?

I’d like to think that it is a burning flame, dancing in the moonlight. Alive, moving and shifting. Producing shadows on the walls and warmth to those who come close. Wisps of smoke that colour the air and bring soft smells that induce dreams and memories. A flame that speaks your name over and over. And the more it speaks it the more you become. Like the flame.

Tradition. Culture. Righteous and fragile. Binding. Like the river and the streets.

Like the city.

Thank you Sally Breen, Helder Beja and the APWT team for having me along. And a big thanks to the City of Gold Coast for helping fund my journey.