Light-show.

It's not the same as watching lightning crack over cane-fields, but it's always a sight to behold. Trying to get a half decent image of a strike can be tedious, and of the hundreds of photos you take, maybe only five or 10 will be something considered good. But who cares? The chance of getting a good photo provides the excitement and the pleasure of watching such power at work provides the inspiration. 

One.

The Spit, Gold Coast. Some time in December.

A little something something.

Typical, really.

A fuller type of circle.

My Dad bought himself a (new to him) car. It's a delightful 1960 MGA 1600 which, when being restored was fitted with an 1800 motor. From some of my youngest momories spent driving around with Terry (Dad), I can recall him telling stories of cars he'd owned through the years, and the pieces of crap he'd bought as a young man. The point of the majority of these stories was that cars are a money-pit and rather a poor investment. This is of course, true, but I always thought that the freedom and enjoyment of driving was worth the cost, and a big part of growing up and learning responsibility.

Seeing my Dad's face light up when explaining the lustre of the British Racing Green paint, the quality of the tan interior, the finish to the chromed luggage rack, and witnessing his enjoyment at blipping the accelerator while working down the gears into a corner tells me that He hasn't lost his youth; it just got buried by all that shit you have to do when you grow up. It also reminds me of the similarities in our personalities. So, if I grow up and become as He is, that'll suit me just fine.

It's all good.

Nothing really compares to a good time spent with good friends in the pursuit of happiness.

The Return of My Perspective

One thing I can never get enough of is perspective. Every now and then you lose it, or perhaps it loses you. All you've got to do is tilt your head a little to make the scenery change.

What's beyond the flash?

There comes a time.

I'm headed to "The States" for 5 weeks, so I'll not have a chance to update this with photos. Perhaps a few words might interject, but probably not.

I thought I might leave something special that I toiled over. It's about time and place and those things that matter most when they matter.

"A" Poem.

A meeting of chance: A chanced autumn night.
A rush of the rouge to my head at your sight.
A whirlwind.
A tightrope.
A pressure-point pressed.
A gift of good-grace one couldn't reject.
A sense of sensation.
A spring in my stride.
A floating.
A tingling.
A focus.
Alive!
A promise from me, to me, all for you.
A notion of love to forever ring true.
A future so bright; my own sun and stars.
A large chunk of space for you in my heart.
A life, lived living a dream of delight.
A reality now: A chanced autumn night.