To know what you prefer instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive.

Here you can see Henry saying "Happy Birthday Nana". He's a generous chap in that regard.

I was talking about decisions and all that. Thinking about decisions, especially what are ostensibly difficult decisions, the worrying aspects primarily concern the externalities of the situation: the known knowns are fine, the unknown knowns must not be relevant, the known unknowns can’t be controlled and the unknown unknowns really don’t matter.

All that you’re left with is action...

Comments

Baino said…

Well you know what 'they' say .. control the things you can . . I'm a Libran . . I just can't make decisions then when I do, I change my mind. It really is time you changed Henry's T shirt!

21 February 2009 at 07:53

Kris McCracken said…

Baino, truth be told, the photo was taken on the same day as the other one. This is Henry's gang banger sleeveless t-shirt.

21 February 2009 at 09:26

KL said…

You should have put the video of his trying to say that :-). You put all these pics of Ezra now (wrong English construction), but do you have any such photos of Henry at those age? It would be really nice to see such photos of Ezra at this age and Henry at that age side by side for comparison.

21 February 2009 at 10:32

Kris McCracken said…

KL, I did do a bit of a retrospective to celebrate Henry's second birthday. There are also quite a few photos of Henry in the archives.

21 February 2009 at 16:27

yamini said…

Henry is looking "carelessly charming" in the photograph (i dont know whether I have been able to put in the right mix of adjectives) but what to do, the pace at which you keep putting up the photographs, I might soon run out of adjectives to describe them.
nevertheless, no complaints on that front, keep them going.... we are waiting for more....

P.S. Please dont ever comb his hair.

23 February 2009 at 22:36

Kris McCracken said…

Yamini, I've never bothered combing my hair, so I think that Henry will be safe.

24 February 2009 at 06:26

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...

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

This will hurt me...

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