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Showing posts from March 27, 2011

How absurd men are! They never use their liberties and demand those they do not have. They have freedom of thought, they demand freedom of speech.

Ezra keeps a keen eye on proceedings at the Royal Botanical Gardens, while Henry chases seagulls.

You are the beautiful half / Of a golden hurt.

Hold on the the bright flowers while you can. Seven Mile Beach. March 2011. I have been awfully busy of late, so must apologise for my brevity. In fact, when this very post appears, I shall be otherwise occupied donating blood. And do you know what? YOU should donate blood too... To Be In Love , by Gwendolyn Brooks To be in love Is to touch with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are well. You look at things Through his eyes. A cardinal is red. A sky is blue. Suddenly you know he knows too. He is not there but You know you are tasting together The winter, or a light spring weather. His hand to take your hand is overmuch. Too much to bear. You cannot look in his eyes Because your pulse must not say What must not be said. When he Shuts a door- Is not there_ Your arms are water. And you are free With a ghastly freedom. You are the beautiful half Of a golden hurt. You remember and covet his mouth To touch, to whisper on. Oh when to declare Is certain Death! Oh when to apprize Is

Hell is other people.

Here’s one from a few weeks back: Henry’s first day of Kindergarten . The wonderful Lindisfarne North Primary School didn’t know what hit it. It does now!

What is past is prologue.

The morning sun of the office desk. No more shall be said. Curruthers Building, St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. Another day, another too books! This week, the theme is depressing , albeit for quite different reasons. Book one is Caryl Phillips’ A Distant Shore . I’ve read a few of his books, and although he’s not the most refined of writers, one thing that Caryl Phillips can do is tell a story. This story is one of two people, both lonely and exist largely outside the mainstream of society. One is a retired teacher and the other an African refugee. Stylistically, the book's sections jump between the perspectives of the two main characters, and the story is relayed in a non-linear, broken fashion, so the reader is often caught on the back foot in terms of the narrative. This isn’t too frustrating, although the emerging fact that one of the central characters – who increasingly narrates in the first person – is unreliable, throws in a bit of a twist. Most novels of this kind w

Don't forget to love yourself.

What?

Usually it is uses of words, not words in themselves, that are properly called vague.

Allergies are inevitably felt more when squatting down low. Eaglehawk Neck, Tasman Peninsula. January 2011. I heard someone claim the other day that loneliness was a crisis in fracturing and shrinking rural communities here in Australia. While I’ve not inclination to deny that, it got me thinking whether or not loneliness is easier (?) to find out in the backblocks or right at the centre of big cities. If we define “lonely” as “being alone” (in a literal sense), than I guess – from a technical point of view – you might be more likely to suffer loneliness while stuck in the middle of nowhere than you are standing in the CBD of a big city or town. Yet it seems to me that (literally) “being alone” has nothing to do with “ loneliness ”. You can be alone in a literal sense, but not at all lonely. Surely most lighthouse keepers don’t suffer from loneliness, otherwise they wouldn’t put their hand up to be lighthouse keepers. Loneliness is surely more a state of mind rather than a state of be

Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is.

Having one little Errol Flynn about the place presents a very real challenge. Now, having two little Errol Flynns running amok, that’s just plain ridiculous!

The wisdom of the wise and the experience of the ages are perpetuated by quotations.

Just out the front. East Derwent Highway, Geilston Bay. March 2011. The photo shows late afternoon in Geilston as the sun makes a last hurrah before the shift back from Daylight Saving kicks us all in the guts. I enjoy Daylight Saving. There is something about arriving home from work with a little bit of sunshine that puts a spring in your step. Conversely, leaving home for work in the dark, and arriving home from work in the dark, can be a little demoralising. What’s been the point of the day if all you have to show for it are the fruits of wage slavery?

Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.

EIGHT laps of Calverts Beach should see us right. Then we’ll hit the water and do the loop around Macquarie Island…

One of the greatest pieces of economic wisdom is to know what you do not know.

Needs another coat. St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. I was thinking about karaoke hits the other day. Now, I know that do a very good Suspicious Minds . I'd like to think that I do do a decent Crying , but I suspect that the high notes are a little beyond me reach. My The Harder They Come only works if your creativity will accept me doing Glen Danzig aping Jimmy Cliff. You really have to be there.

Almost all of our sorrows spring out of our relations with other people.

Somewhere along the way, Henry has lost his shoe. Can you spot it?

Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her.

Who put that rock there? Tasman Peninsula, January 2011. That's Hippolyte Rock there. Apparently, it's a small granite island and part of the Tasman Island Group, close to the south-eastern coast of Tasmania around the Tasman Peninsula. I snapped this shot from around Eaglehawk Neck (to the north). The island has a flat top and is surrounded by steep cliffs up to 65 metres high. It belongs to the Tasman National Park and houses a whole bunch of breeding seabird species, including Little Fairy Penguins, Short-tailed Shearwater, Sooty Shearwater, Fairy Prion, Common Diving-Petrel, Silver Gull and Black-faced Cormorant. Australian Fur Seals also knock about the island, which makes it an attractive proposition for Great White Sharks... The view south from the east side of Tasman Peninsula. January 2011. The presence of the seals probably does enough to justify the tag "shark-infested". No sign of dorsal fins in this photo though. The Devil's Kitchen, as viewed fro

They are always saying God loves us. If that's love I'd rather have a bit of kindness.

We're at that wonderful point of a young man’s life when the overwhelming desire to be able to read and write begins to become all-consuming. Thankfully, Henry has thrown himself into the task with great enthusiasm and vigour!

One cannot make good news out of bad practice.

They're right, all of that 'effing and blindin' is good for no-one. St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. Sunday already. You know what that means...? Sunday Top Five! Without further ado, Mein Favorit Fünf deutsche Wörter so viel besser als ihr Gegenstück Englisch sind ! Doppelgänger Gemeinschaft or Gesellschaft Götterdämmerung Weltanschauung Vergangenheitsbewältigung ! I shall give a reward for those who can successfully incorporate all of these words into a convincing sentence...