cursive script. copperplate. running writing. longhand.
practiced meticulously in copybooks
“Never play on roads and streets”
“Nullabor Plain is a treeless area”
“Honesty is the best policy”
in the single teacher school (mr stevenson was the headmaster) by the open cut coal mine, shaken by the blasting once a day. our town was in the social studies reader, under “b” for “blair athol”. biggest seam of steaming coal in the southern hemisphere. under “a” was “aboriginals” with a drawing of a man doing the tree pose, holding a spear. blair athol is on the land of the wangan jagalingou people. that wasn’t in the social studies book. we had some aboriginal kids at our school and they were amazing runners. barefoot, flying along the dusty sports track littered with deadly 3-corner jacks, they always won the running at school carnival, even against all the clermont kids. i, personally, avoided all athletic endeavor. if you want me, i’ll be in the corner with a book.
i came to yoga in my 20s. i came to running much later. now i see that running is not just running and that there is yoga in every footfall, and that paragraphs birth themselves as the mind is set free by the repetition of pace, breathing, heartbeat. runningwriting.