The place referred to as Tasmania 
Look up 
Time to stop pretending you’re not what you are... artist... this is a year long mentorship starting September 5th. 12 spots total. Link in bio or email alice@alicenight.com 
The view from MoNA gallery, Tasmania 
A couple of years ago I tattooed three dots on my wedding finger to signify my love of women, love of men and love of self. This way if I get married the person will know who they’re marrying, and also so I can stop kidding myself that I’m gay or straight. Turns out I’m not even bisexual... I’ve loved people who are female, male, non-binary, eight years younger than me, thirty years older than me. I have loved more than one person at a time. And I love. Along the way I’ve pathologised myself and shamed myself (Daddy issues, Mummy issues, slutty, afraid to love etc.) It’s pride month. I’m starting by admitting my nature to myself - to move from shame and repression to pride. I feel like labels are less and less useful. I’m not bisexual, I’m not monogamous, I’m not poly. I’m human. I change. I grow. I love. Different people bring different things out of me. Pansexual is the closest term. I’m interested in releasing conditioning and living in open-hearted, open-minded spirited care and reverence for life and love. And healing what needs healing along the way. (More about all this in the memoir in progress) 
Being an aunty is one of the deepest joys I’ve known. The heart must expand for this kind of love, and in my hardest moments she is a simple and profound reason to pull myself into mystery and life and trust again. Thank you @petrina_speller for bringing this love into my life. 
Pema Chodron 
The grass was not greener. It sounds so obvious but all of the external searching / craving / blaming was superfluous. I’m doing the rain dance now for the long neglected garden inside my own chest. I have been a harsh lover at times. Reactive. Jealous. Uncommitted. Afraid. Pushing people away before the could possibly hurt me. I couldn’t give anyone what I was yet to give myself - unconditional love. Pausing now. Moving slowly now. I’m not single, I’m with myself, with life, with my body, with mystery. Sometimes something has to break for deep change to be possible. 
On the days when I feel like I really can’t do anything, (earn, love, commit, be in the grief) I thank mystery for music, I know at the very least I can create songs, perform live music and record and somehow in that space I actually can earn, love, commit and be in the grief... I’m not fucked up, I’m learning, sometimes the hard way... hopefully I’ll actually finish this memoir I’m writing - that’s also a place where the tear-filled I don’t know anything! days are welcome. Art sustains me, when everything else falls away