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I have here a matching set for your viewing please. Taken late yesterday afternoon, above you can see five month old super cool dude Ezra with his mum about to check out the chickie babes on a warm summer’s day. He thinks that the shades give him ample opportunity for a perve without being found out. Little does he know that the girls have long been wise to that sort of carry on...

Below, you can see the restrained menace of a three month old Henry. Here, Hank is going for an enraged (but stoutly resolute) Mel Gibson in the first Mad Max and the cold, dispassionate killing machine portrayed by Arnold Schwarzenegger. I think that he pulls it off nicely!

Comments

USelaine said…

With Ezra, I instantly thought of Roy Orbison (perhaps with his hairpiece snatched away).

Henry definitely looks like he's in charge.

22 December 2008 at 20:00

Anonymous said…

Wow. I do like these portraits. What did you do to bribe them to pose for you?

23 December 2008 at 02:53

Kris McCracken said…

USelaine, they are both terribly cool dudes, that is for sure.

Abe, I just attempt to get the to do it for the love of their father. That and chocolate biscuits in Henry's case...

I hope you're feeling better, by the way!

23 December 2008 at 16:20

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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