This will hurt me...

Technically, this photo isn't the best that I've ever taken, that I will concede. That said, I defy anybody to say that the smile that Ezra flashed atop Mount Wellington is anything but first class .

Also a long time ago, I knew this other guy who – despite a certain level of physical attractiveness – lacked confidence around women. Compounding this was a seemingly insatiable drive towards extreme and prolonged bouts of desire for beautiful young girls. Of course, he never had the nerve to approach these girls and usually stood across the room from them and stared intently for hours on end while drinking incessantly. He thought it gave him a brooding charm. The young and beautiful girls that I knew found him creepy. In his inebriated state, he routinely took up the challenge of dangerous dares. I remember one time when he climbed up onto a very high roof with a plastic lawn chair. At the top, he tied his legs to the chair, and hopped off the edge. On the way to the hospital, I asked him why he did it. He said, “What was I supposed to do? It was a dare.” I told him that girls weren’t impressed by that sort of carry on and he looked at me forlornly, and then he looked at his hideousl...

I cringe whenever I hear war employed as analogous to sport, so I apologise in advance for this post. You see, I appreciate very clearly the temptation to employ what we think we know of war (understanding that thinking that we know something about something is very different to knowing about something). So, please forgive me for clutching at the metaphor. In my defence I offer my own well worn tale of child-induced weariness. The cumulative effects of a new baby with still-confused patterns of sleep, and an older prime physical specimen who has appeared to have prematurely entered that phase famously called the “terrible twos”, have wrought a grave toll on my nerves. I feel for my health. Even without concerns about the security of my manhole , it is safe to say that both mind and body are struggling at the moment. I have endeavoured to keep the intake of fresh fruit and veg up, and the reliance on caffeine down, yet the constant interrupted sleep is inevitably taking its toll. Whi...

Here is a picture taken this morning looking over Kings Pier Marina , which is a lovely spot to stretch your legs at lunchtime. I took this shot of some of the more modern boats through the rigging of one of the many old brigs that operate around Hobart for most of the year. Now, if I was into the full wankery around art, I would say something along the lines of: With this image, I was endeavouring to explore the concurrence of old and new, of sail and motor. Through this, the viewer will inexorably ruminate upon the fragility of time and the unceasing march of progress. Now, although I am fluent in such wankery, I will choose to tell you the real reason that it looks like this: There were a lot of boats in this morning. It was hard to get a clear shot without walking all the way to the end of the pier, and I had to get to work. Not nearly as romantic, but it is, sadly, the truth of the matter.