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

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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