Helly Hoops Update!


Hey there!

A few months ago there was a GoFundMe fundraiser to replace hula hoop that was stolen at a festival. Let me tell you a little about the magic that’s happened since then! 😉

With the donations raised by the community, I could afford multiple hoops!!
I was gobsmacked. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship with Moodhoops. I felt so humbled and supported –  by my local tribe and my tribe overseas. I felt like people everywhere were recognising my art, which was deeply moving.

So… Out of a theft, and the community’s support, I ended up with MORE hoops.

Since then I’ve been making a lot of little videos, like this one here:

And doing lots of photo shoots too with my new LED hoops!

But wait, there’s more! I have a big announcement to share with you:

Last week I was publicly sponsored by Moodhoops, the US company who make the LED hoops that I love to spin with. Of 20 artists worldwide, I am the only Australian hooper.

I truly believe that it was with the help of good people that I was recognised overseas as a valuable member of my local community and festival scene. You can find my profile on their website (with an interview) hereI am being propelled by community into a rich, incredible, challenging career path with my hoops!

And so! This week I made a killer video hooping to my favourite song in the world – V
ini Vici’s remix of Hilight Tribe – Free Tibet. I’m launching a campaign to perform onstage with Vini Vici at this year’s Earthcore! And I’d LOVE if you gave it  a watch! Here it is!! – – –


If that link doesn’t work, you can find it over at Helly Hoops.

Lastly, after a two hour audition I was accepted into a four-month Theatre and Clowning School here in Melbourne. 

To help me cover course fees, I screen printed my hand-drawn artworks as an edition here in Melbourne. Check them out here! They’re reeeeeal purty.
Well, that’s what I’ve been up to recently! I hope this has given you a little bit of warmth in the winter. 😉
With much love !!
xx Helly Hoops

I’ve Been Busy

hooping, living

Hoopdance is my thing. A one-minute video I put up yesterday clocked 70,000 views on Facebook overnight. Raise the roof.

I uploaded it there without music. Here it is with beats.

To see the original visit http://facebook.com/hellyhoops


Some Of You May Not Know…

hooping, living, loving

That I’m a hoopdancer.

And of late, I’ve been falling in love with hooping, all over again.

Hooping? That’s a THING?

Why yes, yes it is. And trust me, there’s a lot more to it than waist hooping. Inspired by the joy of movement and other amazing hoopdancers around the world, I’ve started keeping a record of my jam sessions in the park.

If you have a couple of minutes, check it out. And decide for yourself whether I have ninja status yet!




living, noteworthy, rhymes and rhythm


Give me a damn warning
This clawing
Dawning brawn
Sits massive, seated on the furry faux far down the couch
He is swatting swapping looks
Furtive glances steal the books
That lie unread
It can be said
That dreaded heads rock rolling beds
All over, this dry drover falls off four by four to dust
Where he blamed the camp
That activists
have flocked.

I don’t like this, I think it’s a game
I think it’s the same
Flow now unpretending
Stop tending amending
Miles away unattending
Fine, fine,
Fine is pending.
Your brain decay
Your same delay
You’re sane today.
Hip hip hooray!
And seeming this small torture
Bending backwards for debaucher
See the thistles popping into frame to remind you you’re from Away.
Such a dreary place
And a chaos of mace
Tanning beds for white race
Stumble in and out trace
Slim figures stalking streetline
Where the skyline meets the pie-line
There, the queue that tiptoes right across the footpath near the pub
They want coffee
Stopping short of blocking court proceedings withered
Feathered burly
Hither thither to and fro
Pretend they’re early.

I liked the party
I wagged to be arty
I tagged myself in photos or it never happened at all.
There goes the white light honesty
The cost of honour, modesty
And honestly, can we really find the truth in any case?
Not today we can’t.
It’s a vote not an aunt
Not a singling out tone
Knot the rope not the phone
Draw the line on the dots
Or the fine from the cops
Stop the mine for the crops
Blotto mind from the hops
Godot blinded by shops.

Last night
I rode past singing
Blurting out to boys and zinging
Flinging my safe space to kingdomtown and voiceless prizes thatched
The rooves and hoofless hoppers
Striding down, the armoured coppers
Chuck their chin up high to melt away humanity onsite.
The kestrels swooping over
Think that they’ve got til October
Til the shooting guns are smoking
Cigarettes and butts are drowned
And the crowded site remaining
In this cesspool pit constraining
Concertina doored the floorway far beyond your wall or hall
Sat upon, some thrown before you
Or decry a moan for gore view
but thank god you’ve got your Netflix
And your armchair
It’s your drug.

Far beyond your wall the yellow
Crushing beasts tear up the earth
Fuck those people tonight
Fuck them all high and might
Strength is gone when one can no more eat;
The food is dried and wasted.
The tiniest drop of glitter
Bitter sitter on the edge of the shitter
Sees the drivel path, the vapid bath
That we all cluck and soak in
Vile creature, you before me
In your beauty, your adoring
nature feeble in its fickle realm
The poised and sitting still.
Heady eddy, water pacing
Fast and whips the mind is racing
Calm below the magic placement tasting richness is devoured
Flinging hours past incitement
of the violence of the Whitement
Concrete sets below the canopy of corporate spies and foes
Flies that whip around are treated
With much more respect than people
Who have lived this earth
And loved this earth
Til their bodies were taken and robbed.
Such slobs their captors howling
The befouling hours growling
With a beer in hand they’re slamming down the schooners four by four
And the blazing eyes are slowing
It’s anointment to be glowing
It’s an oi oi oi! to fertilise the mind and protect from pests
And the boy boy boys! in their virtual world
Whose wheezing cough envokes smoke whirls
Grimly hold on, senseless
Hurl abuse, chipped tooth to boost their grin.

Stave off the crises
Grave put off Pisces
Caved into heist sees
No other vent.

I wish you had the fortitude
To see past the ribbons, the cattle commute
And see there before you the wily confused
Whose fuse stews and simmers, who cannot refuse.

I don’t know how to wade
How to stave off, calve or save
But I’ve got friends who’ve won
Did a simple flatpack goodbye.
Packed up, bolts, and drive
Turning, screw and screw
I lied
It was never easy
We should’ve drawn instructions
Before the packdown.
She’s a fucking clown
And ace of brown
Erasing pounds
All Britishness blocked.
Hocking furniture gems
Thoughts thrown into blend
But the wind turns again
Thoughts stymie low on stove.
Back in baffletown
Why waste them
To be breathed in
Ghost cackletown
Playing mirthfully with wonder
As we dance, I see its smile.
Sticking in the throat
The beforetime
Sinking into bloat
The ass time
Kicking stay afloat
Catharsis baked in tray
The treats are warming.
Just as globe is a mess and is storming
Warming probed by this pest
The mileage has entered a phase
But you’re not fazed
To accumulate knowing.
Even though we’re past our glowing
While we dither
Creatures blink past existence
Neath your feet
But the quiet pain is splintered
Nothing more than mild winter
Hear the clever child talk about the trees and be amazed

Doubt about the flouting characters
Who flaunt their clout and barristers
With their made-up tricks they force their way
Into fertile farms and fields.
Faraway though
Who could care about
The acid rain, the students’ shout?
The blasted feigning politics
Whose faceless fire threatens.
The letters sent from over sees
right through the lying rover
Needing prying blockhead shoulder
On whose power is surely leant.
Unkempt, the wild gratitude
The misspelt word
The false prelude
The meaning stinks of vile whim
Grim sinking ships assail.
The tacit net, the carrion
The corvid’s cry, the carry on
Of weeping mothers
Filtered through the journalists and him
Murdoch press he wrote
Sanctioned murder on boats
How fucking dare gloat
Over raw rocky lives
Newly ruined here in situ
Melting pot
Rolls hit you
Gold to shimmer in crevasse that widens
Neath your petty bleats.
I care for crickets
Not ashes to ashes
Load up babe with your cashes
Caches hunted by spies
Working hard overtime
Glowing orange with crime
Ill-defined time of thine.

Sink a shot
To take away
Brink, wave takes
Notes broken
tokes stoked
to stop







A Land Truly Girt

living, loving, photography, rhymes and rhythm


I met this white man once in Europe, and have since kept him recessed online

to remind me why I think the way I think,

and respect those who I respect,

and revile those

whose words, spat with poison and written in blood

inject hatred, aggression and ignorance into Life.

It detracts from the discourse, the joy of the commune, so it’s time for simple poetry to address the malignancy of fear.



A Land Truly Girt


Shall I remind thee, human

Of our tiny tormented Blue Dot?

Should I iterate that irritations in noses get covered in snot?

Bear with me child;

Collective consciousness is just an airway

and racist dust does not last long; empty cells at the top of a stairway.


In this way you create your own prison

And scream at others to join you inside

Well, I’d much rather breathe in my Freedom

Having power with love in my stride.


See the movement of minds that are more than just matter

Overshadow the shallow dark waters you taint

and they’re cast from a mould that is forged in a mettle

where the torch is so strong that your image is faint

Overcast by the beings who soar high above you

you’re alone with your hatred in shadow on earth

For great heat dissipation takes place when damnation

grows a xenophobe mind in a being since birth.


Malignancy in tongue is more than cancerous to mind

You cannot sit with poison and expect all else to hurt

You’re blessed with eyes and ears and voice but use them all to bind

what could have been a resource in a land that’s truly Girt.


Til you find me one more planet to inhabit as a human

We are all a refugee and cling to life on the crumbling crust.

And these solid plates of agar, floating colonies on liquid

have been moving since Gondwanaland divided up in trust.

This behaviour’s kin to yelling at tectonics down beneath you;


No matter how you stamp your foot demanding all this movement,

Friend, you’re just a ball of atoms floating too on an infinite shore.


The robustness of your case to send back queue jumpers to sea

To keep your Straya drunk with fighting whites that’s right for you

Will be vilified, exemplar of the Racist Uptight Knights

and reminds me of a 3 year old I nannied- oh, wait, he was two.


You’re systematic in attacking what you fear will threaten your skin

Oblivious it cheapens all infinity to nought.

If aliens come to harvest some poor human for their sin

You’ll be the first to go my friend, and you can take your Thoughts.




and solidarity




Screen shot 2013-10-11 at 2.23.13 AM






Rewriting h̶i̶s̶t̶o̶r̶y̶ her-story

living, rhymes and rhythm

My happiness was bubbling, I was on my bike again

No longer did I worry that my knee would snap and bend

I’d cycled several metres when I hit some broken glass –

Foreshadowing the people that I couldn’t cycle past.

I heard him first from faraway. It’s hard to miss that tone

The one that breaks into the night and makes you wish for home

I saw her then across the street. His gesture was a fist

A surge of panic rose within, this man was surely pissed

I watched in shock as 3 friends stood aside and down the road

As if this was just ‘another tiff’, and it wasn’t their Place to Impose


So I watched as the girl stood in silence, alone

As her boyfriend screamed into her face

And he told her to “shut the fuck up bitch I told you”, or he’d put her back into her place.

Little green man was lit, I was riding across, there I knew what my action would be

And I pulled up aside in my red floral dress… and where there was two, now was three.

But for just a quick moment I hated myself for engaging in what was not mine –

Then my courage returned like a jury spurred on by the potent injustice of crime

And I drew on the women in my life who’ve taken abuse at the hand of a man

“Are you OK?” I said to his back while his girlfriend cried into her hand.


Despite all the practice of centering self all my hackles were raised as he turned

to spit in my face “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”

I stood bluffing, to seem unperturbed.

It was interesting. Holding his gaze was to call upon every. calm. cell. in my being.

But in those short few seconds I saw fire dampened by someone just sitting there, seeing.

He repeated his question, with less force but still force enough to dictate I’d be going

So I also repeated my question, imbuing my words with compassion and knowing.

And I saw this distraction from anger in action did soften his furious features

It’s so funny. Interactions with people on streets sometimes turn out to be the best teachers


Then I looked at the girl and saw shame in her tears and a sadness that this was a norm

And I cursed at the world that I had to encounter this violence in such common form

I felt 15 seconds was longer than weeks and I sensed my own tether was tight

By this time, 3 drunk men had caught up, deciding to yell and run after my bike

Instead of addressing depressing domestics in streets they put salt in the wound

And I spat on the ground and felt utterly shit that my courage imploded too soon

That this man in my face was abrasive enough to elicit a shuddering fear

Made me question how flimsy my stopping had been – sweet self deprecation had reared


Then I got home and chucked off my bag on the table and felt my whole thought process shift

Here I am feeling shit about stopping and caring and trying to settle that rift

Ain’t no man in a street will defeat my achievements of trying to live here and now

Holy shit look at what I can do with my body, I hula hoop with a big crowd

And I write when I can and I laugh more than most and I try to be good to the Earth

And I’m grateful for love and I’m happy to breathe and I’m thankful for my fleshy birth

There I realised that even though voices are loud one can win with a silence in sound

For the conquered are noisy and the angry lack vim, but the happy can never be bound.