This will hurt me...

Here's a little trip down Henry Lane ... Happy Birthday Henry!

The view north from Salmanca Place in the evening, rendered as a 1980s synth-pop album inner sleeve. May 2010. Theme Thursday and I'm in a rush! What a surprise. WRINKLE. Hmmmm. Wrin·kle. Noun . (rngkl) Hmmmm. "1. A small furrow, ridge, or crease on a normally smooth surface, caused by crumpling, folding, or shrinking." Hmmmm. No . "2. A line or crease in the skin, as from age." No . "3. A clever trick, method, or device, especially one that is new and different." Closer . Far closer. "4. A problem or imperfection; a fault." GOT IT! Combine four and three and I can link today's theme with the photo chosen randomly last week. An unsteady hand, low levels of light and an unpredictable bus schedule lead to a series of photographs that exhibited a WRINKLE (that is, WRINKLE as outlined in definition four ). My WRINKLE (see definition three ), was to utilise mediocre significant PhotoShop skills and render said presentable image through a...

Night shots are always something of an experiment for me, so why not go the whole hog and mess about with fiddling to the max? We had an election here in Tasmania yesterday, and the result went as expected (if not as I would have liked). However, the candidate we we're endorsing with a sign got in, continuing my stroke of good results! Well done Mr. O'Byrne. Today's Sunday Top Five? At a push, my Top Five Pollies Whose Signs Have Been Out The Front Of My Joint Over The Years ! Michael Field : A perennial sign in the State scene. We managed to get him up as premier at one point (all because of that sign out front, I'd wager). Greg Peart : the mid-to-late 1980s were not great for the ALP in Braddon. The lack of success in unseating the infinately mediocre Chris Miles should prove that. Sid Sidebottom : a few goes in various elections. A solid, if somewhat uninspiring plodder. Graeme Sturges : got him over the line a couple of elections ago. He's struggled once we'...

One does love a nice pattern in life. Here you can see some of the LEGO metal structures that go into making a rock concert work. I like how they've painted the metal a nice bright silver, it almost makes you forget that they're a bunch of dirty, greasy poles!

There is just something about power lines and street lights that I like. Perhaps it is the fact that they are an almost omnipresent feature of modern life. To be honest, when you're wandering around looking for things to snap, the poles every four metres often get a look in. For the record, this pole is in Geilston Bay. Here's today's Sunday Top Five : 1) A vole; 2) One small saucepan; 3) Milan Kundera's The Joke ; 4) A clock radio; 5) Soap. Guess the topic!

No, it's not a sad and desperate Roma child who has been cast adrift by the dialectic of history and crushed under the brutal weight of Ceausescu’s contemptible regime. No, it’s the newly shorn Henry after his shower last night! I must admit that I could not choose between the above colour photograph – albeit deliberately ‘washed out’ (itself a canny trick to compensate for the low light) – and the grainy black and white below. On first glance, I consider the colour shot the better image, but I do think that the black and white photo does allow the contrast of light and dark to reveal a little more detail around his face. I dunno. What do you guys think?

I’m not sure why, but I quite like this photograph. I like the colour. . I like the dabs of yellow in all that blue and grey. I like the contrasting depth of the stones versus the flat of the concrete. I like the fact that there is an apparently healthy tree jutting out of the footpath. I like that in this one, I managed to avoid photographing my shoes. Of course, I inevitably drew funny looks from all of the Hydro workers hurrying into work as I slouched outside their building taking photo after photo of a footpath. They were probably ruing the plight of the mentally ill in the community as they trundled past, embarrassed that this odd fellows behaviour made them think of something as dreary as mental illness. But I will say, the pressure of this whole daily photo thing has done wonders for my confidence to just whip out the camera and take a snap when something appears and takes my fancy. That said, I have a profound timidity to do so if it involves people (or at least people who mig...

I wish that this was my photograph, but it isn't. It is an aerial shot of the city of Pripyat , in the Ukraine. You may not have heard of Pripyat, an abandoned city in the ' Zone of alienation ' in northern Ukraine, near the Belorussian border. It was home (amongst others) to the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant workers. The city was abandoned in 1986 following the Chernobyl disaster, its population had been around 50,000 prior to the accident. That's what makes this photo so spooky to me. It is not often that you can see a city where one day, 23 years ago, everybody just upped and left. It must be an eerie experience to wander through the streets today. I found this image at a website titled simply "Pictures from the sky" . If you are into impressive photographs, give it a click and check out some more stunning images.

I'm not sure who took these two today, Jen or Henry. Jen is claiming them, and Henry is keeping quiet about it, but they do have his touch of class about them. Anyway, it was taken on their belated trip to the Steenholt Ranch in the deep south of Tasmania near Geeveston , which is about sixty kilometers south of Hobart, right into the southern part of the Huon Valley . They stopped along the gorgeous Huon River to take a few snaps for me to share with the world. Now, I would never be so cruel to cast aspersions on any region of the state - because I'm just not that sort of fellow - but I have heard other, less considerate folk say that they hear the faint echo of dueling banjos each time they head down this way. Yet Henry and Jenry emerged intact from their journey, well stocked with banana passionfruit and choc-chip cookies. This tells me that what other people say about the strange goings-on amongst the reclusive, anti-one world government crowd that seem to gather in th...

I thought that today would be little more than a mundane companion piece to yesterday’s photograph . Walking through Parliament Lawns as I usually do of a weekday morning, I noted the two council workers clearing off all of the leaves that I posted yesterday. Naively, I had assumed that this would be achieved with huge rakes and good old-fashioned muscle. Alas, I was wrong. I should have known that bulky (and extremely noisy) leaf blowers are all the rage these days. They were corralling the poor frightened leaves into the centre of the park, where a truck was waiting to haul them off to oblivion. That was that (I thought), 'a slice of Hobartian life for the world to peruse at their leisure'. As noted, I thought that this was the end of the story, I would post the photo and be done, but in the act of resizing it to make it more user-friendly, I noted something odd in the background. Like David Hemmings in the classic film Blowup , there was a strange character lurking in the ba...

Inspired (dismayed?) by the efforts of the Salamanca graffiti artists that were featured a couple of days ago, Sue, this blog's Melbourne correspondent, has decided to try and trump the Tasmanians with a feature of some of the graffiti doing the rounds in Williamstown , one of the well-to-do suburbs of Victoria's capital city. Personally, I feel that this need to compete is a Melbournian trait that can be traced back to the fact that the city was itself was founded by Tasmanians . Consequently, they have always struggled with petty jealousy. No doubt this is the key reason behind refusing to grant us a team in the AFL. History lesson aside, the examples presented today are pieces of graffiti that can be found on the walls of factories in the Williamstown/Newport area. The photographer is a young up and comer Zac McCracken (no, not the star of the criminally underrated computer game of the 1980s), who has been compiling some work for a portfolio that will one day take him to ...