Skip to main content

To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.


How about this motley crew of chancers?

Fair dinkum, trying to take a photo where these three are even vaguely all looking in the right direction, with none of them pulling a silly face or looking off their nut, is a big ask!

This is even more difficult, when the camera these days has assumed an almost mystical ability to draw children's hands to it the moment that it appears!
Labels:

Comments

Priyanka Khot said…
Kudos to u for the achieving the feat.

All of them look lovely. how come u are never clicked??
6 October 2009 at 20:07
Roddy said…
I would have said something, but what can one say of perfection? We just need you to make it even more perfect.
6 October 2009 at 20:42
Kris McCracken said…
Priyanka, because nobody will click me!
7 October 2009 at 11:53
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, that is an arguable point...
7 October 2009 at 11:53
yamini said…
This is one of the best portraits that I have seen on this blog. Right up there among the Top 10!!!

And yes, congratulations for achieving this feat single-handedly, even while saving the camera from the prying little hands. :-))

All three look heavenly in the photograph.
7 October 2009 at 17:11
KL said…
Now of course for this photo, I shall say three handsome cutipies...hehehe...are you jealous?
8 October 2009 at 11:51
Dina said…
Great shot.
More of life should be lived on the floor.
8 October 2009 at 22:23
Kris McCracken said…
KL, more proud than jealous.
13 October 2009 at 09:55
Kris McCracken said…
Yamini, they are rotten scoundrels really.
13 October 2009 at 09:55
Kris McCracken said…
Dina, I spend a lot of time on the floor.
13 October 2009 at 09:56
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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
5 comments
Read more

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
38 comments
Read more

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.
36 comments
Read more