Dear Australia, my home

living, loving, noteworthy, photography, travel


I love you. As I pack some things to head to remote Australia for a couple of weeks, I’m starting to think of the journeys I’ve taken in this part of the world, where landscapes almost too beautiful for words went flowing on for miles and into my camera lens.


I expect to be reinvigorated by the sparseness of space; the most elusive powerful element to the world we crowd today.



A happy local.





peace out





I’m kaleidoscoping out the view

living, loving, photography, travel


Been playing around with some photos (note: done by hand, not inclined enough to have photoshop).

Gives me nostalgia for kaleidoscopes – where, as children, it made total sense to look at things upside down, side and out, back side up, back down side, side back down, up down yonder-

I digress.


Here are some of the interesting ones. Giant patterns of life and land…















Oh, for the love of colour

living, loving, photography, travel


My last blog post was Freshly Pressed – something I’m exceedingly happy about and grateful for.


Through comments and the like, it brought to my attention several interesting things;

1. People love colour.

2. People like my photos.


This led me to think;

3. I should probably post more photos, in rainbow form!


Here’s a swath of colour, a voluptuous rainbow – a selection of sweet delight from South American trundling.


as always, peace and enjoy.




la la la, colour la la.










Will the real Slim Shakespeare please stand up?

living, loving, noteworthy


I was lucky enough to score 2 tickets to an opening of a play tonight – that of Darlinghurst Theatre Company’s Reasons to be Pretty (here in Sydney, for those of you global folks). The actors were entertaining, all content was relatable, and there seemed to be an organic flow of dialogue complementing often argumentative and explosive outbursts.


I walked away under-nourished, however. Far from prodding my sponge-like brain to soak up splashes of rationed out reason, the content was more pop-culture comedy that denied digging deeper. With a title that suggests, it denied what it promised.


To see two people yelling and repeating the same invectives like “fuck” and “shit” one can just walk just down the road to Kings Cross, where repugnant verbal banter is unfortunate and rampant. If the play was written as a greater statement about the folly of “fuck” transcending all language barriers as a universally over-used term losing its meaning, the idea of watching talented actors sculpt commonplace characters would be much more interesting – albeit somewhat of a sobering test in theatre.


I’d be interested to know if other people experiencing theatre around the world are finding the same. Is the devaluation of our English lexicon (or indeed, any language) through media-perpetuated apathy undermined further by theatre that seeks to connect through colloquialism alone? Have the days of the genius playwright all but turned, or will writers sick of pop playwrights rise up, write more, and right decayed dry dialogue?



Please, chime in.



Oh what do I know, am I being too critical?


Maybe I am.


I mean I felt there was SOMETHING wrong with it though.


It was missing something Italian, maybe.









The Universality of being Human

living, loving, noteworthy, photography, travel



Stumbling over photos I’ve taken in the last few years, the following two speak volumes when placed next to each other.

People told me I’d be robbed in the highlands of Southeast Asia, and kidnapped by the crooks crawling all over South America.

I don’t undermine concerns about safety – luck, commonsense and confidence must all come to the table when in unknown places.

But the widespread ignorance (and that’s not written with malice) held of the people in foreign lands seems, for the most part, entirely shaped by inexcusable one-line prejudices that blanket and smother all the richness of diverse peoples. I’m looking at you, sensational news products punctuated by hour-long pieces perverting all reason.

People told me all Colombians were drug dealers.
That in Vietnam, they kidnap the tourists for trafficking.
They said the French were all rude and presumptuous.
And most Chileans rob people to feed the gang wars.

There’s a chasm existing – help stifle its growth by thinking of Others as humans, with heart.



Simple splendour – ladies in Saigon



Refined and admirable – ladies in Bolivia




with peace