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Dancing Like a Fool
“I’m here to seduce you,” the dancing woman declares.  I’m not sure how to respond, so I giggle nervously.  My friends and I have been admiring her for several minutes. We’re in a disco-inspired section of an art exhibition in Tokyo. The artist I’ve been diligently listening to on the audio guide calls the room’s…
First-Generation Guilt
It was my sister’s 14th birthday party when I first realised my parents' naivety. Henna ran upstairs wiping mascara-coloured tears with the back of her palm.  I turned to see my mum standing with crossed arms, swaying side to side with an uneven smile. When my sister came back downstairs a few minutes later, Mum…
Something of Worth
When I was 12 years old, my grandmother gave me an unusual gift: a deep plastic tub filled with individually wrapped teacups. My brother received an identical tub – his was filled with model airplanes.  At the time, I was somewhat perplexed by this offering. Although I had experienced an early initiation into the world…
Loving the Grave Not Yet Dug
A sweat-slicked, overworked deli woman stands before me, arm extended with the weight of poverty and its favourite mystery meat – Devon. With sunken eyes and a tired smile, I get the sense we are both well acquainted with it. My last five dollars is spent and so am I, grocery bags digging into the…
Untethered
I prepare for Tokyo by quitting vapes. One week until departure, and I’ve not bought a single item on my list. I’m a zombie, moving through life in a cloud of smoke. My share house from the last six months is ejecting me. I have nowhere to live. It’s a repeat of last January, when…
Friends on the Road
The allure of solo travel can promise what sounds like an easy escape into uncharted waters. New lands to be discovered by your feet and new sensations to be snorted up by your senses. Because you, my squirmish friend, have been stuck in the trap of the humdrum, day-to-day existence of ordinary life. You’ve already had…
Blackface Ghost Town
The events depicted below are based on real experiences I had in Australia from 2020 to 2022. The names of people and places have been removed. Not to protect them, but rather to accommodate the handful of names that have relentlessly built and pushed forward the same issues I am about to address. Think of…
Oceans of Memory
She sits hunched on the edge of a garden bed on Cavill Avenue, carry-on suitcase beside her, head in her hands. The scenery is picturesque: perfectly preened garden, spotless blue sky, sun blazing, the sound of seabirds constant but soothing – at least to any other listener. Inside her head, a storm rages. It wasn’t…

Astray is a storytelling project centred on travel, community, identity and liberation.

We’re based out of Lenapehoking / New York City: the homeland of the Lenape. Specifically, we’re in Manhattan: a name that comes from Mannahatta, meaning “island of many hills”. As grateful guests in this city, we recognize the strength and resilience of the Lenape, and extend our reverence to all Indigenous peoples everywhere. This acknowledgement comes from our commitment to working against the ongoing legacies of settler colonialism.