Naarm Melbourne / Songwriter, Musician & Unrelenting Creative
I am in isolation for as long as I need to be with my family, Joe and Raven. I am a natural homebody so I'm not feeling like I'm missing much in the outside world. And besides, home is where my kitchen, studio and heart is.

Julie Montan is a provocative, messaged-based artist; songwriter, performer, activist, poet, taboo breaker and role model to 9-year-old daughter.


A Chinese man was trying to coerce me to follow him in a pedestrian street. He was overfamiliar with me which I thought out of character for a stranger. His obsequious presence was disquieting. I was on high alert. I made a quick assessment that he might be working undercover for the Chinese Government or an affiliation of some government regime. These were Orwellian/Huxley-esque undertones. He wanted me to follow him but the place he wanted to take me wasn’t named. He said he was trying to deter me from something that hadn’t happened yet, but I should go with him, to be safe. I sensed a hidden agenda that if I were to fall for, would put me and my family in the gravest of danger. I made a photographic memory of his countenance and clothing choice. He was dressed in T-shirt, jeans and sneakers — like a tram cop — an American — like Jerry Seinfeld. I didn’t trust him an iota. For someone so plain-looking he had uncanny power. He was a mind reader for one. He read my recoiling body language politely edging away from him, but he was steps ahead of me. His manner morphed from charming to vicious. Secret service or double agent he wasn't taking "no" for an answer. The combination of me being polite and his persistence seemed to prolong this section of the dream and the tussle is still very vivid to me. In my blood and bones I knew he was a life-threateningly dangerous person. I was protecting my partner and my daughter who were there too, but they were in the wings, I couldn’t see them and they didn’t speak, they were just there. I did all the talking. I kept coming up with reasons why I couldn’t possibly become enlisted in his all important enterprise. I got sick of hearing the sound of my own voice falling on deaf ears so I started running. I told my family to run too and we did. I ran so fast, to give him the slip but I was not slippery enough. He was a trained operative, he skilfully reached his arm out to its very limit and caught my hand. He held it so tight. I was trapped. The next part of the dream was in slow motion. In his palm were 6 lurid, green discs with barbs in them — like giant M&Ms covered in talons. He crushed these into my palm, the talons latched my skin and poison bled through. This was the point I woke up. Horrified. Baffled.


© Neptune and Manisha Anjali