This will hurt me...

Here comes the sun. Sullivans Cove, Hobart. June 2013. Sunday Top Five ? Crabs, Beautiful Crabs! Mr Krabs Portunus pelagicus Scylla serrata Ranina ranina Pseudocarcinus gigas

Alien landing? Elizabeth Street Pier, Hobart waterfront. June 2013. Sunday Stealing: The "What's Your Story" Meme 1. What is the strangest thing you have ever eaten in public? Probably a witchetty grub . 2. If you had to go on an adventure, with elves, dwarves, or hobbits, who would you take and why? A rogue band of brigand trolls. 3. You are at a rural retreat lodge somewhere deep in Wisconsin or Canada. You are approached by a taxidermist who hands you a stuffed badger and asks you to put it in your lap. What do you do next? Say, "Yeah, cheers for that." 4. If you were given biscotti, would you prefer it with coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Awkwardly apologise for not eating it because of an allergy to almonds. 5. In your opinion, who is the funniest man or woman alive today At the moment? I like Louis C.K. and Stewart Lee. 6. If you were given thirty seconds on television to say something, what would it be? "Stop wasti...

Mount Wellington in Winter. As seen from Battery Point. June 2013. Can you guess today's Sunday Top Five ? Phaseolus vulgaris. Cicer arietinum Pisum sativum. Lens culinaris. Pisum sativum.

Ezra at dusk.

You'd never ever wish for a bushfire, but they do have the capacity to generate very interesting sunsets.

All I need to do is Photoshop in some great big explosions and cars flying about in the background and this photograph is complete...

Sunrise over Howrah. Seen from Sandy Bay. July 2012. A little late today, but bear with me, I have the flu and stuff to do this morning. Two books finished this week. First up is Bring Larks and Heroes by Australian author Thomas Keneally. I haven’t read a lot of Keneally ( Schindler’s Ark and Gossip in the Forest being the other two), and this book is a good reason to further chastise myself for that fact. It’s a ripper! Stylistically, it’s worlds apart from my assumption of his approach. It brings to mind a more accessible Patrick White, with a keen sense of tragedy without ever weighing down the who enterprise. In it Keneally probably helped kick of an entire re-interpretation of Australian history: that of our past as a penal colony. It’s a brutal but beautiful book. Rich in history and imagery, the tensions in those first few years of colonisation at the remote ends of the Earth resonate with tension. Men vastly outnumber women. The Irish – both convicts and those pres...

Going home. Sandy Bay Road, onto Davey Street. June 2012. As you know, the Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds. Unfortunately, the Internet are these parts does not appear to be working! I'm going to have to postpone the weblinks for another day. If this post ever manages to actually go live, please feel free to stick around and enjoy the view...

Hobart’s winter sky. The view over the Derwent Estuary, from Battery Point. June 2012. Theme Thursday and I am very very late. My apologies. I’m caught up you see. Caught up in something FULL CIRCLE. Another way that we might at this is via Latin, the revolutio – “a turnaround” – (our modern revolution ). Of course, revolutions can come FULL CIRCLE or they can top at the 180 degrees (or any other point of the loop). See, what In need is a revolution. As noted earlier in the week, Lenin – and he knew a thing about ‘em – used to say that the fundamental law of revolution is that for a revolution to take place, it is simply not enough for the exploited and oppressed masses to recognise the unfeasibility of living in the old way, and thus demand change. However, for a revolution to actually happen, it is essential that the exploiters recognise and understand that they will not be able to live and rule in the old ways. Revolutions are not just about politics. Some of us need r...

The real end of summer. Hobart as seen from Little Howrah Beach. March 2012. People who find breastfeeding offensive are idiots. Hope is the thing... , Emily Dickinson Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.