This will hurt me...

Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator Cranky Hanky strides in like a cold-blooded assassin at Risdon Brook Dam.

Failing to hold it steady. Geilston Bay, July 2010. As Winter fades into memory, and Spring blossoms like a childlike nymph flowering with her first savouring of love, I need to revisit what it means to indulge in ‘experimental photography’. Any ideas? Russian Sonia , Edgar Lee Masters I, born in Weimar Of a mother who was French And German father, a most learned professor, Orphaned at fourteen years, Became a dancer, known as Russian Sonia, All up and down the boulevards of Paris, Mistress betimes of sundry dukes and counts, And later of poor artists and of poets. At forty years, passée, I sought New York And met old Patrick Hummer on the boat, Red-faced and hale, though turned his sixtieth year, Returning after having sold a ship-load Of cattle in the German city, Hamburg. He brought me to Spoon River and we lived here For twenty years -- they thought that we were married! This oak tree near me is the favourite haunt Of blue jays chattering, chattering all the day. And why not? for m

[Grand] Master Ezra and his lovely assistant have branched out into a new form of business: counterfeiting ! Unfortunately, they have only perfected the art of counterfeiting Zimbabwean currency, and that is of no use to anyone! BAH!

Hobart rests under Mount Wellington, as seen from Bellerive. September 2010. I'm going to get myself a kayak and paddle to work every day. You just watch me... Friday Book Club ! If you're a ready, log on to GoodReads and let me know what you're reading and what you're thinking about what your reading... This week! Just finished Stephen Fry's début novel Liar , from 1991. I'm a Fry fan, but I'll be honest and admit that I found this one a little uneven. The most enjoyable parts for mine centred on the filthy-mined 'public school boy buggery years'. It then goes off the rails as it morphs into turgid Philology lecture through to spy thriller. It should be of little surprise that the most enjoyable section are those painfully intense "boy loves boy" sections that are obviously rooted in Fry's own experience of boarding. Indeed, much of this was to re-emerge in Fry's enormously entertaining extent autobiographical Moab is My Washpot .

Henry and Jen have taken on the monumental task of shifting ALL of the snow off Mount Wellington. They were taking it down into Salamanca and constructing an art installation that tackled the long-suppressed topic of Man’s inhumanity to penguins . Looking out the window, they’ve just about finished the job.

A springtime Sunday morning in Tasmania has its moments of bliss. Clifton Beach, September 2010. Theme Thursday yet again, and the insurgency enters another week... As long-time subscribers of this blog would know, I am a fan of the sunburst. For many in the photographic world, shooting into the sun is a cardinal sin. Well, as Jesus himself said, we are all sinners! Today, this is my sin. You see, for me the sunburst brings a FOUDROYANT tone to proceedings. Honestly, I defy anybody to look at that photograph above and deny the FOUDROYANT quality that exudes from the ‘Heaven and Earth’ composition. This part is easy: Get down low, sand on the knees, make sure that Jen and Ez are in the shot (and Henry isn’t just about to get in the way), check that the aperture is such that the sun isn’t going to blow the whole image out, make sure the cliffs at the far end are in shot, beach = tick, ocean = tick, clouds = tick, = grassy dunes = tick. Take as many shots as possible before everybody m

Every day, in every way, Ezra just keeps getting better and better…

A farewell to Summer. Opossum Bay, February 2010. Above is a 'farewell to summer shot' that I took earlier this year. I am anxiously and eagerly awaiting the 'welcome of summer shot'. But first... Things That Annoy Me #3,432,237 Number 3,432,237 on the list of things that annoy me is people who carp on about how terrible everybody apart from they themselves is concerning the protection of the environment. Generally , the target of most bile in his regard tend to be a) “the government”, and b), “the lower classes”. People that exemplify annoyance #3,432,237 typically choose to drive their car everywhere, print out every e-mail they receive; switch on every light in the building and leave them on upon leaving; buy pre-packaged meals each day; purchase new and innovative gizmos and gadgets (that they cannot use) before quickly discarding them for even newer and more innovative gizmos and gadgets; assuage all potential guilt for their wanton and reckless consumption by scr

Henry has a stick. Ezra has a branch. After ten paces, they are to turn and sort their differences like gentleman .

Metaphysically speaking, I am left perplexed by the declaration found here in today’s advertisement. Regular readers will know that I have a deep respect for the Teutonic spirit, and am capable of seeing the broader worth of a peoples, culture and language than fixate on one or two (however dreadful) historical periods. Thus, I can look beyond an historic stain and embrace the gute volk in Deutschland with hearty Wohlwollen and nicht wertend Geist . That said, the notion of “ Deutschland ”, does not conjure up images of frolicking Fräuleins hitting the links in some desperate effort to secure everlasting life. I understand that in the aftermath of a war (any war, pick one) a nation must look to ways to [ahem] construct an appeal for foreign visitors to bring their hard currency engage in the spirit of peace and reconciliation. Nevertheless, golf ? Really? Cricket would have been far more appropriate.

A beautiful Spring day at the beach. Seven Mile Beach, September 2010. Beaches are just as fine – if not better – for the photographically inclined punter in wild and woolly weather than the sun and fun. As long as you have your back to the pelting rain, you can get the odd impressive shot off now and again. Here I am looking north on Seven Mile Beach a few weeks back. The zoom has taken me maybe two-and-a-half miles, Bereft of anything better, here is today’s eco-friendly Meme! Do you recycle? Absolutely. One doesn’t need to chain oneself to an asthmatic lesbian Minke whale to do one’s bit. Do you do you laundry with hot or cold water? Cold. Nappies soaking in the nappy-bucket get hot though. What kind of light bulbs are in your house? Pass. They’re little ones. Do you compost? We have a very small compost bin. It fills up very quickly. What kind of vehicle do you drive? I don’t. Do you use plastic or reusable bags when grocery shopping? When we still went to the shops, we took re-us

In part two of our reconstruction of the rise and fall of Italian Fascism [set against the backdrop of a wet and wild Seven Mile Beach], here Henry, Ezra and Jen discuss the failures of the Italian army in North Africa. Ezra blames the poor quality of the pasta. Jen blames the poor quality of the vino. Henry blames Ezra and Jen. I, as Victor Emmanual III, blamed ill health. As usual.

Dudes catching the mega waves one Sunday morning. Clifton Beach, September 2010. Things I'd rather be doing rather than be at work #2,234,231: ripping gnarly phat breakers on one of Tasmanian's millions of handy beaches. Pregnant dude in the middle looks to be a little perturbed. Clifton Beach, September 2010.

As ever, Henry leads the way with bold and purposeful strides. Here he re-enacts Mussolini’s ‘March on Rome’. Henry has broken ranks with historical reality and pretends that Benito actually marched himself (rather than took a car), with Jen cast in the role of General De Bono, and Ezra the vicious little Balbo. Of course, I assumed the role of Victor Emmanuel III. By the end of things we got a little closer to reality. Indeed, it ended in tears.

A guard tower? Risdon Brook Dam. August 2010. I made a carrot cake, and Henry ate carrots. What other vegetables can be made into cake? Which leads me straight to today's Sunday Top Five , My Top Five Vegetables Off The Top Of My Head ! Potato : can't go past the humble spud! More versatile than an egg, and prettier than a cucumber! Onion : these buggers can go in just about anything. I'm not a fan of them raw, but they cook up a storm. Pumpkin : no room for Jack 'o Lanterns, but whether in soup, baked, mashed, roasted or even pan fried, the pumpkin is our friend. Beetroot : you know what they say... Leek : we eat a lot of leeks, and we're not even Welsh. Just missing the list were cabbage, sweet potato, carrots, shallots, parsnips, spinach, broccoli, and cauliflower. I also have much, much love for those forgotten vegetables , rhubarb and ginger. Swinging nor' nor' east. Risdon Brook Dam. August 2010.