You don't change the course of history by turning the faces of portraits to the wall.

It’s blue. It’s cold. It’s very, very big. Calverts Beach looking south to Antarctica. February 2011.

When I look out over this kind of vista, I tend to reflect on the sheer magnitude of the ocean; the vast and varied life that can be found within; the size and power of all that shifting water; our very fundamental insignificance in contrast to the enormity of the depths.

Or I think about boobs.

One of the two.

Comments

clarabelle said…

*gasps* oh I love this picture. The ocean is just the nost amazing character, in all of our lives if we let it! Go you! x

26 April 2011 at 10:45

ratatouille's archives said…

Hi! Kris...
What happen? While reading your post I thought to myself...Wow! Kris, is very reflective today and then a "pie" right in the..."kisser!"

I agree with every word you said, that is right up to a certain point!
What a beautiful photograph and a very interesting quote.
DeeDee ;-D

26 April 2011 at 16:21

Roddy said…

Very "tit"illating.
I too spend an inordinate amount of time contemplating the magnitude of the ocean. You have to remember, I am at the mercy of the seas every day when at work.

26 April 2011 at 18:38

Stefan Jansson said…

I get the same feeling looking at this photo,the ocean is too big to comprehend.

27 April 2011 at 04:10

Carola said…

Great!

What a superb photo.

Amazing writing. OOps!

The Ocean is incredible huge. A real wilderness, out there. Words can't tell.

27 April 2011 at 16:12

Kris McCracken said…

Well, you don't want to get too po-faced and serious...

28 April 2011 at 11:09

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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