Skip to main content


Showing posts from January 10, 2010

Solomon made a great mistake when he asked for wisdom.

Here is Ezra riding Jen like a horse (or a camel) down at Fossil Bluff in Wynyard, on Tasmania's sunny North West! The bloke just over her shoulder (not in red stripes) is frequent (as in every single post commentator " Roddy ".

The great artist takes what he needs.

There can be a solid argument made that the moon as viewed on Tasmania's north west coast is ideal for a zoomed photograph. I can almost see the cheese! I took this one in a paddock next to some Hereford cows one morning last week. While away, I will admit to enjoying the process of finding poems that I like and sharing them with you. Thus, my new series: Saturday Festival of *someone else's* Poetry ! Today, an oldie but a goodie... The Crazed Moon , by W.B. Yeats CRAZED through much child-bearing The moon is staggering in the sky; Moon-struck by the despairing Glances of her wandering eye We grope, and grope in vain, For children born of her pain. Children dazed or dead! When she in all her virginal pride First trod on the mountain's head What stir ran through the countryside Where every foot obeyed her glance! What manhood led the dance! Fly-catchers of the moon, Our hands are blenched, our fingers seem But slender needles of bone; Blenched by that malicious dream The

It is unwise to be too sure of one's own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.

Henry? Or Jesus ? ...You decide...

and the scraping squeal Of seabirds' voices far away, and bells, Five bells. Five bells coldly ringing out.

The hot weather of late has meant plenty of time at the beach. I'm not a middle-of-the-day beachgoer though, I prefer to stick to mid-mornings and late-afternoons (when the sharks feed). These shots were taken at Clifton Beach, just east of here. We've got to the point where Henry and Ezra are keen to do more than dip their toes in. They better get a wriggle on though, as the hot weather won't last very long!

Courage is often lack of insight, whereas cowardice in many cases is based on good information.

Ez and Henry recreated the landings at Omaha Beach when we were in Burnie (from a German perspective). You can see that there is not a lot of room in that pillbox for more troops. Coincidently, I am currently reading Antony Beevor's D-Day , and it feels like the definitive work. Check it out.

Artists must look beneath the surface and show that there is more to this world than what meets the eye.

The notion of visiting a train yard and riding the rails as a holiday treat might seem odd to those readers blessed with active passenger railways. Alas, here in Tasmania, we've not had any passenger rail lines active since the early 1960s! Thus, Henry and Ezra felt blessed to experinece the brief ride on the Don River Railway just outside of Devonport last week. Indeed, Henry paid a visit to the driver mid ride, and got to experience driving the thing first hand. As a bonus, we all survived! I will admit that I am a fan of rail. Travelling the tracks, the clickety clack, whistles and all that jazz fires me up . Anyone who has ever had the privilege of making love on the night sleeper from Venice to Vienna will know what I'm talking about here. However, we are here to talk Theme Thursday , and the theme is most definitely not “how to prevent severe leg cramping on the overnight sleeper from Venice to Vienna”. No, the theme is SURFACE. Which brings me to today’s photograp

Failure to love is almost like murder.

Here is Henry headed west on Burnie's West Beach. In the distance you can see the light towers of West Park Oval, home to the Burnie Dockers Football Club. Behind that oval is the penguin rookery featured yesterday. This is right on the CBD of the city people! Get to Burnie now! QUICK!

"How wonderful to be alive," he thought. "But why does it always hurt?"

Look up in the sky down at Fern Glade, and you're bound to have the view obstructed by some kind of tree! Here is a selection of the kind of little beauties you might find. My apologies for the brevity, but work is rather hectic at the moment, and only bound to get worse.

We do not what we ought, What we ought not, we do, And lean upon the thought That chance will bring us through.

For Ezra, nothing makes a long car journey finer than whipping out the Ipod and whacking on an Alain de Botton podcast on Schopenhauer, his cat, and the essentially Oedipal nature of their relationship.

Every Harlot was a Virgin once.

Here is a shot of a penguin rookery located right in the heart of Burnie (West Beach, to be precise). You can't see any penguins because they are all fast asleep. How, I am not so sure, given that Henry and Ezra were making a terrible racket at the time.

The surest sign that a man has a genuine taste of his own is that he is uncertain of it.

While up in the north west, Henry decided that he wanted to road test a few pets. In the absence of a crocodile or Great White Shark farm, we headed up to the Guide Falls Alpaca Park to give their studs a bit of a run and see how Henry goes with 'em. Here he is with " The Master ". After taking The Master through his paces, we opted to get him. He tasted lovely !

In anger nothing right nor judicious can be done.

It is Monday morning and I find myself back at work after a few weeks out. I am not happy about it. Just last week I was residing at a quiet little farmhouse - converted barn, to be precise - gazing at the sheep nibbling away at the grass out of the kitchen window. It's a good thing that I took this photograph then, I can spend the morning gazing at it instead! A poor substitute, I might add...

Break the skin of civilization and you find the ape, roaring and red-handed.

While journeying through the magnificent north west coast of Tasmania (the greatest coast in the known universe), we happened upon one of the world's great rail journeys: the Orient Express Don River Railway ! As you can see, Ezra spent a portion of his trip working on his dimples.

All wishes, whatever their apparent content, have the same and unvarying meaning: "I refuse to be what I am."

I will admit that this photograph of a platypus is not the best that you'll ever see, but when you're saddled with two cranky and loud toddlers, and faced with the challenge of photographing one of the most notoriously shy and seldom-seen furry creatures known to humans, I consider it a triumph! What is more spectacular, we managed to glimpse three separate platypussies that morning! Such is the wonder of Fern Glade, just five minutes from the bustling city centre of the metropolis of Burnie.