Photography is not about the thing photographed. It is about how that thing looks photographed.

Hunting for flowers. Mount Wellington. January 2013.

Sunday Stealing? That's right! The Triple Threat Meme, to be precise...

Three names you go by, other than your given name:

“McCracken”, “Dad/ Daddy” and “You”.

Three screen names you've had:

I use my real name when online. It’s a personal ethics thing.

Three things you like about yourself:

Hmmm. I think that I am reasonably frank with people. I like to think about things. I also think that I have pretty good manners.

Three things you don't like about yourself:

Hmmmmmmmmm. I’m a bit judgemental. Probably too disciplined for some. I can get a bit narky on occasssion.

Three parts of your heritage:

Scots. Italian. Tasmanian.

Three things you are wearing right now:

Shorts. Underwear. Shirt. That’s all I’m wearing!

Three favourite bands/ musical artists:

Too hard to isolate three. Making the short list off the top of my head: Wilco, Morrisey and David Bowie.

Three favourite songs:

Right now? The Spencer Davis Group’s Gimme Some Lovin', Belle and Sebastian’s The Boy With the Arab Strap and Marah’s Phantom Eyes.

Three things you want in a relationship:

Stability. Honesty. Affection.

Three things about the preferred sex that appeal to you:

Curves. Smell. Interest.

Three of your favourite hobbies:

Photography. Reading. Getting out and about to look at things.

Three things that scare you:

Responsibility. Irrelevance. Stupidity.

Three of your everyday essentials:

Camera. Energy. Open mind.

Three places you want to go on vacation:

Scandinavia/ Russia. Central Europe. Polynesia.

Three careers you have considered/ are considering:

Gigolo. Layabout. Dreamer.

Three things you want to do before you die:

Sail somewhere. Go on a long train ride. Read more books.

Three things you want to do really badly right now:

Go for a swim/ snorkel. Eat some decent grub. Have a cuddle.

Comments

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

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...

This will hurt me...

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