Afternoon dip

Post-xmas turducken on the loose

32 degrees Centigrade in the shade at 10:00 am as I haul my overfed carcass towards home on my three speed beach cruiser. A stinking hot wind is nipping at my size 10 running shoes (the ones that do more wandering than running).

A weird band of high level cloud is curving across the western sky - portents of weather change.

By 1:00 pm it's 36 degrees in the shade and I'm guessing the mercury would have blown out of the thermometer in the sun. A cooling storm is forecast, but it's hard to believe, after all the temp is already pushing 3 degrees past the forecast. Bloody computers.

The streets and concrete bicycle tracks are empty, save a few foolish souls running in the blazing sun. No wonder emergency wards are inundated on days like today. The only sounds are distant sirens (probably rescuing melted runners) and hordes of deafening cicadas sent to torture all who stumble into hangoverland.

Our air con has gone on strike and the places with free air con, like the aRt gallery are all closed.


I'm definitely dreaming of a White Christmas (or at least working air con).

Tow ins for 3 year olds

Farewell spring suit

Lacking colour (click to enlarge)

Sequence - persisting and floating into the light

Can you hear the music?

click to enlarge

Gone but not forgotten

Hearing rain. Seeing purple.

Is social media the soma of our age?

"Soma may make you lose a few years in time," 

the doctor went on. 

"But think of the enormous, immeasurable durations 

it can give you out of time. 

Every soma-holiday is a bit of 

what our ancestors used to call eternity." "

Aldous Huxley Brave New World 1932

the blurred crusade