This will hurt me...

Life underwater. Clifton Beach, June 2013. Once Were Warriors , Alan Duff: Very dark, very gritty. It's a far bleaker portrayal of life for marginalised Maoris in modern New Zealand than the successful film. Domestic violence, urban violence, poverty, drugs, alcoholism, unemployment, gang warfare, rape, physical and mental abuse, suicide, gender, identity, race and culture are just a few of the subjects explored in gritty fashion. I'm not sure whether reading this is more akin to getting punched in the face or kicked in the guts. One of the two, anyway. A- . Maggie: A Girl of the Streets , Stephen Crane: Urban grit, 1893 style! Originally refused by all publishers because of sexual frankness, it might seem tame to the modern eye but remains shocking enough. C+ .

Sand. Hope Beach, South Arm Peninsula. June 2013. Theme Thursday and I am a bit pressed for time. You see, I am about to take a JOURNEY. A JOURNEY away from my current job and return to the ever-loving bosom of the bureaucracy. Yes, the public service is sweetly calling me back. Not long now, my darling. Not long now…

Climbing the dunes. Nutgrove Beach, Sandy Bay. December 2012. As you know, the Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (and RSS feeds.) The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning... A great read on the death of a city: The Land of Topless Minarets and Headless Little Girls . Well worth your time. The Onion nails it: Right To Own Handheld Device That Shoots Deadly Metal Pellets At High Speed Worth All Of This. Humans think that they are better than animals. They are, of course, NOT . Some choice examples of futuristic Soviet architecture . John Birmingham waxes lyrical about the great experience of his daughter's state school. Hello Sailor! The Nautical Roots of Popular Tattoos... A great reverse prank courtesy of YouTube...

Not the most comfortable place you will ever find yourself sunbathing. Excellent skipping stone fodder, however.

At this depth, one is only at risk of being licked to death by a ferocious pack of very small great white sharks .

Here is a demonstration of maternal cruelty . Despite the fact that Henry is a fan of the Essendon Football Club, she has forced him to sport a dastardly Sydney Swans pancho-towel. There ought to be a law...

Rock on. Blinking Billy Beach, Sandy Bay. May 2011. I will confess that part of me admires the tenacity of people who ring an incorrect telephone number, and insist that it is in fact the correct number. That is, the fact that you are not (for example) Dave's Mowing Service is not their fault, it is YOURS. Indeed, the fact that you are not Dave, you have never been Dave, nor do you mow lawns as a matter of business bothers them not a jot, the simple insistence that you ARE because the number that they've dialled IS will somehow magically transform you, your phone number and Statewide and Mental Health Services with it - through sheer force of will and belief - into Dave's Mowing Service. I wish that I had that kind of belief. It'd almost make you think that the world was a halfway decent place...

Jen contemplates the meaning of nothingness. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula. March 2011. Is nothing something ? Is absence presence ? If a void is an empty space and a vacuum is empty of matter is there such thing as a void? Is there such thing as a vacuum? If there is, does that mean that nothing is something ? Is non-existence essential for existence to be ? Is a void raw existence ? Is being being ? If we are nowhere are we anywhere ? Anywhere must be somewhere , right? If we are talking about nothing does that necessarily engender something ? Is a memory something ? Is a real memory real ? Is a real memory more real than an imagined memory ? Henry has be of absolutely no use at answering any of these questions, and Ezra is barely any better!

Continuing the search of the dunes. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula. February 2011. I like the lines on the dunes from this angle. The good thing about Calverts Beach is that it doesn't get a lot of traffic. Just Hen, Ez, Jen and I and the odd whale watcher or twitcher trampling the grains. I'm wondering how people go on those beaches you see that has large pebbles and rocks, rather than nice, neat and warm between the toes..

Not eggshells, sea shells. Plenty of ‘em. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula. February 2011. > They say that “ She sells sea shells by the sea shore”. Now, I’m no enemy of Capitalistic endeavour – despite what my critics may claim – but I do believe She , whomever She may be really is obligated to clean up after herself. Look at this mess!

Millions of snakes, or more sinister? Eaglehawk Neck, Tasman Penninsula. January 2011. I have had a song stuck in my head for five straight days now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good song, but five days on constant rotation is a bit much. Anyway, I have this theory that if I look into the story behind the song, and potentially infect others with the virus, it will leave me alone. Here goes… If I Fell is a song by The Beatles that first appeared in the 1964. It was featured in the film A Hard Day's Night , and appeared on the accompanying soundtrack. Although it seems that John Lennon alone wrote it, it was credited to the Lennon/McCartney partnership. The song itself has an atypical structure for an early (-ish) Beatles track, with an unrepeated introduction sang by Lennon, followed by sequential verse sections, each having a slightly expanded form, but with no obvious chorus or bridge section. As ever, the song features a two-part harmony – Lennon and McCartney into a single micro...

Look, a grain of sand! Hang on, there are even more grains of sand here! If only there were a market for grains of sand...