Love is being stupid together.

There's no mystery. Kirksway Place, Sandy Bay/ Battery Point/Hobart border. October 2012.

Theme Thursday already and today we are talking CEMETERIES. CEMETERIES, you say? CEMETERIES.

A place where the dead are buried. Especially a place that is not attached to a church.

Hmmmmm.

There must be a few of those place around.

CEMETERIES.

In Spring.

CEMETERIES.

Depressing.

Some people like CEMETERIES.

Some people like being whipped while jack russell terriers lick whipped cream from their pierced nipples.

It takes all sorts.

Comments

Susan said…

OUCH!
Very expressive.

For me the visit is museum-like
with a touch of church/temple,
and even with stained glass
if the sky is right.

26 October 2012 at 02:34

joanne said…

omg...I write about loving cemeteries in my post...It does take all kinds!

26 October 2012 at 03:56

Pratibha said…

Interesting presentation and collection :)

26 October 2012 at 04:58

Mrsupole said…

Hi Kris,

And here I am writing about how my house has turned into a type of Cemetery. I guess it does take all kinds. LOL I would much rather visit a cemetery than have a pierced nipple. Oh the germs the dog would get into the piercing, ugh. You always make me laugh with what you write.

Happy theme Thursday and Happy Halloween for the boys. Hope you all have fun and a great weekend.

God bless.

26 October 2012 at 18:03

Roddy said…

You know my worn out old joke.
Cemetary, the dead centre of any town.

27 October 2012 at 16:22

Meri said…

Love your image.

28 October 2012 at 02:30

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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