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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

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

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