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...
Comments
My love from Greece to you and your nice family!
Your blog is still (after more then 4 years) one of my favorites. Every visit is great and inspiring. And yes I know, you know I told you already, I like the huge CREATIVITY.
Don't get me wrong, I realy think this. Perfect mix.
O.K. I stop here.
One question, do you think you should get more comments. How do you meager if people like your blog?
Carola, thanks for that. Comments don't fuss me too much. There seems to be a steady amount of viewers, and the initial point (to share recent photos of Henry and Ezra with distant family members) remains relevant. I still like taking photos, and seem to need some kind of creative output, so it fills a gap, whether anyone is reading or not.