[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 December 2023].
of red bows and holly
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 7 December 2023].
never a dull moment
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 November 2023].
i only want to be with you
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 November 2023].
taste and see that the lord is good
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 29 October 2023].
rocket [the bell tower, barrack square, perth, australia, 2023]
rocket
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 8 August 2023].
If you're an Australian of a particular vintage (specifically, Generation X or Baby Boomer), I challenge you to tell me you're not thinking of Mr Squiggle's 'Rocket' while looking at my photo of Perth's Bell Tower at Elizabeth Quay.
I took this while on a whistle-stop tour of Perth with Rhys, one of my cousins.
While Kings Park was quite familiar to me, including the vista from the war memorial (which I had captured on at least one previous visit), the view had markedly changed in the roughly 20-30 years since I'd last photographed it.
This building and other high rises have since populated (and are still adding to) the skyline on Elizabeth Quay.
Although the architecture is vastly different: The Bell Tower is on a river, while the National Carillon is on an island in a manmade lake, and they are on almost direct opposite sides of the big, brown land we call Australia, I couldn't help but think of the near-annual visits my brothers and I took with my Granddad to the National Carillon on Queen Elizabeth II Island in Lake Burley Griffin as kids when confronted with The Bell Tower.
Perth was the city my grandparents moved to after decades lived in Canberra, and it was while visiting them in late high school that I first saw Perth.
I still feel I've only scratched the surface of Perth after about four visits, but there's something comforting about the same-same-but-different elements of the city to Canberra.
I'm sure that if my brothers, cousins and I were kids now and my grandparents were still alive and living in Perth, my Granddad would take us to The Bell Tower annually.
untitled #9 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]
thinking of home
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 July 2023].
I took these photos of Sabine's azaleas during my last cat-sitting for her before I went to Australia.
The blooms were beautiful and eye-catching.
According to Wikipedia: Azaleas and rhododendrons were once so infamous for their toxicity that to receive a bouquet of their flowers in a black vase was a well-known death threat.
But they were apparently immortalised by Tang dynasty Chinese poet Du Fu in the last two stanzas of his poem, Alone, looking for blossoms along the river:
The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
And nowhere to complain — I've gone half crazy.
I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.
A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside,
I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring.
Poems, wine — even this profusely driven, I endure.
Arrangements for this old, white-haired man can wait.
A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.
Looking east to Shao, its smoke filled with blossoms,
I admire that stately Po-hua wineshop even more.
To empty golden wine cups, calling such beautiful
Dancing girls to embroidered mats — who could bear it?
East of the river, before Abbot Huang's grave,
Spring is a frail splendor among gentle breezes.
In this crush of peach blossoms opening ownerless,
Shall I treasure light reds, or treasure them dark?
At Madame Huang's house, blossoms fill the paths:
Thousands, tens of thousands haul the branches down.
And butterflies linger playfully — an unbroken
Dance floating to songs orioles sing at their ease.
I don't so love blossoms I want to die. I'm afraid,
Once they are gone, of old age still more impetuous.
And they scatter gladly, by the branchful. Let's talk
Things over, little buds — open delicately, sparingly.
In Chinese culture, it's apparently known as the "thinking of home bush", thus my title for this post.
Sabine's home has become something of a second home for me over the past year and a half, and spending time with her kittehs most months last year and many months this year so far has impacted my mental health positively.
Not to mention the enjoyment I get from the evenings spent in conversation with her the nights before she goes away. And the delicious and varied salads she usually makes us.
dipping back in
Once again, I find myself apologising for seemingly going AWOL from sharing new work with you here.
I can assure you my absence has not been intentional. I've been trying to edit and share new work with you here, but life has been a whirlwind (sometimes more like a hurricane or tornado) lately.
I've barely been at home since 29 March.
I spent Easter with Shiloh and Susie. It was lovely, for the most part.
Except for the fleas.
I still had the shadows of flea bites on my legs when I arrived at my current sitting on 1 May though I noticed today they finally seem to have disappeared.
I was at home for a few nights after that sitting. I spent it working my day job and trying to close things off before another long weekend. Importing photos, backing everything up, etc., before heading away again.
On Saturday, 15 April, I went to my next sitting with my regulars in Bromley. I celebrated my 46th birthday a night early with Sophie at The Partridge. I spent the day with my lovely feline friends and wandered the nearby Plaistow Cemetery with my camera.
Poppy must have got the memo about my birthday, so even she was tolerant (welcoming would be an exaggeration) of my pats and presence for a few days.
I went straight from that sitting to Bounds Green to sit Jilly for the first time. Jilly is Lottie's successor and equally as charming, though, thankfully, in good health.
A more floofy black kitteh than Lottie, she loves playing fetch. She had a penchant for my suitcase, like Lottie. Although Lottie preferred to scratch it up in the middle of the night, Jilly just liked to sleep on it. We regularly caught each others' eyes across the landing whilst I worked at Sarah's computer and Jilly chilled.
We spent time snuggling, playing fetch, seeking out wand toy lures hidden behind pillows on the couch and binge-watching episodes of 'Succession' before falling asleep on the couch until the wee hours.
I also spent a lot of time trying to troubleshoot power and water supply issues around the roof replacement at my rental flat from afar during that period. (Given how little I've been at home this year so far and how little I will be for the coming months, I often ask myself why I'm still renting).
I was home (late) for one night on 30 April. And that night, my iMac's SSD finally decided to pack it in. So, I spent the wee hours of the morning messaging Apple Support to troubleshoot it and more time the next day.
And, on a Bank Holiday when the roofers weren't supposed to be doing any work, they AND my neighbours decided to work. I swear my neighbours were hammering non-stop, sometimes in tandem, for 2.5 hours from 08:30 until 11:00 and intermittently through the rest of the day until I finally left at about 17:45.
Since the evening of Monday, 1 May, I've predominantly been sequestered with temperamental tabby, Mia, who I've started calling 'Pickle'.
We hung out for a prolonged period last summer during a heatwave. We were both struggling and spent most of the time moving as little as possible and hiding from the heat as best we could.
This time, she hasn't had the energy sucked out of her by the heat, so we have struggled with each other a bit.
She climbs on and claws everything and is prone to slapping and scratching. But we've got to a point where she approaches me affectionately, invites herself to sit on my lap and even touches our noses or head boops me (though, even when she initiates affection, she can still resort to slapping or scratching me if she loses her balance resettling herself on my lap, for example).
She enjoys chasing the star symbol projected from a laser pointer and has found new pleasure in my hair bands, one of which I will have to locate before I leave.
I'm here until early afternoon Friday, spending two nights with Sophie on her return, and then I'll go home for the weekend.
From the evening of Monday, 22 May, I'll be sitting my senior special needs doggo friend, Dougal, in Wimbledon Village. We'll be together until early Friday afternoon. He needs more attention than Mia demands but is far less aggressive in extracting it from me and more appreciative.
From there, I'll go down to Bromley to sit my regulars plus one. Oscar has joined the team there, and I look forward to meeting him properly. If Poppy doesn't like him, then I'm sure we'll get along fine!
I'll be there until the 29th or 30th, then home for a few days.
Amidst that, I've had to venture from south to north London for work, plant watering, transportation of my iMac to an Apple Store and many hours there while a knowledgeable and helpful member of the Genius Bar ran diagnostics and so on.
Thankfully, Apple Care agreed to cover the cost of replacing the SSD, as I raised issues before the end of my coverage. Hopefully, I'll be able to collect my iMac on Saturday.
This brings me to another of the reasons I've struggled to keep up with editing and posting the past few weeks. I've been looking into my finances, flight prices, and itineraries and contacting my extended family to arrange a trip back to Australia that could encompass visits with my immediate family, my uncles and their other halves, and my two cousins and their families, post Mum's passing.
Yesterday, I finally booked flights to spend most of June in Australia.
My trip will begin in Brisbane, move to Ulverstone in Tasmania, and then Melbourne and Perth. Flying back to London on a direct flight for the first time (eep!)
For those of you in or around those cities: I would love to catch up if we can arrange it.
On returning to London, I have another longer sitting booked with Dougal. A three-week sitting with Frank, a gorgeous cockapoo, from late July into August. And a sitting with two adorable-looking ragdoll kittehs in late August, early September. I'll meet them in early July, but from the photos, they are unspeakably photogenic!
And another sitting in mid-September with my regulars in Bromley to look forward to.
Somewhere before the end of the year, I hope to visit friends (and their doggos and kittehs) in Scotland and venture back over to north Wales.
And, more importantly, I want to edit and share work with you.
In the meantime, in celebration of my upcoming visit with my Dad in Tassie next month, here are some photos I took in Dip Forest in 2018 that I haven't previously shared.
I hope to share more new work with you during the coming week and while I'm away.
Thank you for your patience and understanding.
jesus christ pose
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 January 2023].
life's a short summer, man a flower
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 January 2023].
The final stanza of Samuel Johnson's poem about Winter (with some tweaks), inscribed on a headstone in Arbroath Abbey that I captured in April 2011.
The original quote reads:
Catch the, O! catch the transient hour,
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life's a short Summer - man a flower,
He dies - alas! how soon he dies!
Though the quote on Wikiquote varies from the above and attributes it to a poem with a different name and only cites the final stanza.
I don't have a copy of the original poem to be 100% sure which is correct, but I'm okay with artistic license on headstones.
until next year #136
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 December 2022].
until next year #137
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 25 December 2022].
the free gift of god is eternal life
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 December 2022].
an angel in tinseltown
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 December 2022].
berries and silver baubles
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 December 2022].
bedford burials
public footpath
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 23 August 2022].
For those who aren't aware, England, Scotland, and Wales have a system of public footpaths and bridleways collectively recognised as rights of way.
They allow folk to travel across private land without fear of a charge of trespassing. Or threat or reprisal from landowners.
In rural areas, they can make getting from Point A to Point B on foot a much quicker journey than if you had to stick to the footpaths alongside roads. They also make for interesting routes for those of us inclined to photo walks.
The entrance to this public footpath can be found north of Cotton End.
I didn't take it while I was cat-sitting for Jo and Becky this time, but hopefully, if I have the chance to cat-sit Meg and Mog again, I will be able to explore it further.
Or, at least, others not far away which lead to places that seem enticing to my photographic eye.
If you want to see how extensive the right-of-way system is in the UK, check out the Footpath Map.
bunny
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 22 August 2022].
faithful unto death
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 August 2022].
While reviewing images to edit for what should have been the past week's #SepulchralSunday post, I decided I wanted to create a new curated series called last words. Photographs from my sepulchre series that focus closely on poignant inscriptions on graves.
This capture and another I took at St Kilda Cemetery in 2007 caught my eye and inspired the idea.
Strangely, I had already edited this particular photograph. Notably, the day before my birthday in 2018.
However, I can't see where I've previously published it online or otherwise, and I don't know why exactly I edited it that day.
As I can't locate where I might have published it, I have to believe I never shared it before, so I stuck with my choice for the first post from this new curated series.
I hope you enjoy this new series as I share them over the coming weeks mixed in with my other series: late bloomers, stained glass and, as we approach Christmas again, season's grievings.
striped treasures
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 August 2022].
More Gazania from the St Kilda Cemetery.