Photography is about finding out what can happen in the frame. When you put four edges around some facts, you change those facts.

Lights ~~camera action~~. ANZAC Park, Lindisfarne. February 2013.

More questions? Of course! Stolen from Sunday Stealing, as usual. This week: The Back 15 Meme...

15) How do you vent out your anger?

Ranting and raving.

16) Favourite toy as a child?

Some kind of ball, most likely.

17) Favourite season?

I like elements of each, but if I have to choose I'd say Summer.

18) Do you ever get letters delivered by the post office?

Most letters have at some point been processed by the post office...

19) When was the last time you laughed hard?

Good question. I can't specifically remember, but it most likely involved cruelly mocking someone.

20) What is on the floor of your closet?

My shoes.

21) Are you any good at drawing?

Not very good, but I can manage the basics.

22) What did you do last night?

Read and then slept.

23) What are you most afraid of?

Irrelevance.

24) Plain, cheese or spicy hamburger?

Spicy with salad.

25) Favourite dog breed?

I'm not a big fan of dogs, but I don't mind the Deutscher Schäferhund or the Beagle. The Czechoslovakian wolfdog looks pretty cool though.

26) Favourite day of the week?

Fridays are pretty good for me right now.

27) How many states / provinces / countries have you lived in?

Just the one.

28) Diamond or pearl?

Titanium.

29) What is your wish for this new year?

Steady improvement.

30) New year resolutions

Keep on truckin'!

Comments

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

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