(My) Photo of the day

Without a shadow of a doubt, this is the worst photo that I am ever likely to post! But hey, I promised a 'conference action photo', and I endeavour to be a man of my word. This was a quick snap taken in the hallway just off the main room, and shows some of the punters having morning tea. I was pretty busy most of the day, so didn't have to much time to line up anything better, so I apologise for today's crime against photography.

Yet all is not lost. I thought that because this pic was so dire, I'd offer a special bonus, and revisit yesterday's subject in (slightly) better light, and a different angle. So here is a pic of the GPO building as seen coming up towards it from the direction of the Grand Chancellor.

Comments

Benjamin Madison said…

This GPO shot is very attractive and the conference "action" shot also nicely captures the mind-fogging, slightly confusing aspects of conferences.

30 April 2008 at 00:12

freefalling said…

Whenever I have a a really ordinary photo, I make it black and white - it gives it the allusion of grandeur (or is it illusion - I've never really sorted that one out).

30 April 2008 at 07:22

Kris McCracken said…

I've always said "illusion of grandeur", but now that you've raised it, I'm not sure either!

1 May 2008 at 08:17

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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