Every man is fully satisfied that there is such a thing as truth, or he would not ask any question.

Mount Wellington as seen from Salamanca Place in the early afternoon. A clichéd shot, I know, but I see it most days of the week a few times, so you'll have to forgive me for taking the odd photograph.

I have a confession to make: I am struggling.

As this blog nears 1,500 posts, I find myself crunched by professional and personal demands. Alas, it seems that my creative output is drying up like a goldfish that has found itself outside of its bowl. I can [just about] maintain the photos, but am struggling with the text at the moment.

It's not simply a matter of time - although I'll be honest and say that the constraints are real - but a complex mix of a dearth of energy, inspiration and opportunity.

For that, I can only apologise, and offer my sincere hope that normal service will return as the weather brightens.

Comments

Daffodil Daze said…

I hope your creative 'mojo' returns as soon as you can support it. Until then I will just wait and enjoy the beautiful pics of your family and our wonderful Hobart and surrounds.
Take care

25 September 2009 at 09:00

Sue said…

Don't be too hard on yourself, Kris! I always wonder how you manage to do as much as you have been doing! Most days I barely have the time, amongst my obligations to work, family and friends, to read it. I am in awe of your creative ability.

25 September 2009 at 12:10

Roddy said…

As we age my son we find other things that are far more pressing than a blogspot. You amaze me that you have continued for as long as you have. I'm sure that if you were to back off to about once a week you just may reignite whatever is in you that is dimming. However the fire may go out. Whatever; I have enjoyed following yours and your families life through this post.
I at least am lucky in that I can continue to follow Henry and Ezra through their lives.
Whatever happens, good luck.
See you all next week, I think.

25 September 2009 at 12:49

Megan said…

Blogger Burnout. It is tough, isn't it?

Hope you find your balance.

25 September 2009 at 15:24

Babzy.B said…

May be this photo is a cliché for you but not for me , always interesting to discover your city !

25 September 2009 at 17:42

Kris McCracken said…

Maybe I should pray?

28 September 2009 at 12:17

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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