There is no error so monstrous that it fails to find defenders among the ablest men.

There really is never enough time in the day. As the time stamp on this post will attest, time is something in short supply of late!

Yes, yes... Theme Thursday again, and as I walk into walk I can't help but think the sun glinting off the [no doubt solid gold] cross atop St George's Anglican Church [did you know that churches have websites now?] in Battery Point is a SIGN from upon high.

Just what that SIGN signifies, I'm not sure. I suspect that it involves time, or a donkey, or maybe some kind of immaculate conception. One thing that I do know however, is that I don't know.

Not knowing is a kind of knowing.

Perhaps that's the SIGN.

Or significance.

I'll get my coat...

Comments

Roddy said…

It looks silver from where I'm sitting.
Not knowing can be a sign of not really caring.
Unless you are deeply religious then I don't think it really matters.
Bring on eternity. Heaven or Hell, as purgatory is here and now.

25 March 2010 at 15:43

Megan said…

I know for sure I don't know. At least I know SOMETHING for sure.

25 March 2010 at 15:57

anthonynorth said…

Some signs are very subjective, aren't they?

25 March 2010 at 19:40

Brian Miller said…

saw a church sign yesterday that said "LIVE DONKEY AT EASTER!" and i just laughed...

26 March 2010 at 00:47

Betsy Brock said…

A donkey would be for Palm Sunday, right? haha.

26 March 2010 at 10:50

Nanc Twop said…

sign or no,
its looks like a very
interesting church

;-)

26 March 2010 at 11:27

Kris McCracken said…

Thanks all. Last week was quiet!

1 April 2010 at 11:04

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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