Monthly Archives: July 2012

Ode to beauty lost


A while back I had started writing something which had been pressing on my mind for a long time. Various formats, phrases, words and what not had flitted through my mind but never quite solidified into anything. A year or so it took until last month I sat down and started off the first few words only to get stuck after a few lines.

It sat there for sometime until I picked it up and added a bit more. Though the words were flitting in and out of my conciousness – some pharses, some words being those which had first shot through my mind a year ago, others were evolutions of a phrase I no longer remember in its entirety.

This start/stop/think/write process lasted about a month and finally I think I have a final product.

The result may be found here – Ode to Beauty lost

Comments, critique or anything you want to say about this is are welcome.

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The Truth


“The truth is like a prism through which the light shines, but the patterns it creates can distract and confuse” Mary Horlorck. The Book of Lies.

Thanks to a good friend of mine who posted this to her wall on Facebook

Somethime its amazing how a simple quote like the one above can describe a situation, a concept, a feeling, emotion, or anything that effects us humans in the world.

Truth.. The Truth!
Ah, what a word!

In this day of easy access to information through the web, mobile apps, tablets, written literature, texts, television, radio and heck a multitude of other ways that we satiate our need for information, news, facts and gossip it is hard to tell what is the actual truth backed by hard facts and what is simply hearsay or twisted details tainted by someone’s bias, perception or allegiance.

There are bloggers (like myself I suppose), online news websites, written material – well all the stuff I have mentioned already and probably more – that fill our world with opinions and information. Oftentimes in complete contraditction of one another. Add the comment boards that many online sites provide and the confusion of what is actually the truth increases tenfold.

The quote above puts it so simply yet still provides leeway for interpretation. My take on it is that as light is defracted through a prism giving you a rainbow of coulours so is truth – difracted by bias and perception to provide a multitude of variations which would be considered as truth by one but twisted by another.

Interesting food for thought this.

Truth in its pure form is like white light, yet humans see the defracted light/truth due to their percpetions and bias in life.

Abstract Photography


A post I have just uploaded to my other blog – Mike’s Photo Blog – which is attached to my website.

Photography is a beautiful art which I see as using film or digital sensor as the canvas and light as the medium used to create the image. In its most basic essence photography is the art of capturing the world in all its authenticity. Yet photography can go further by choosing unique angles of view, creative composition and, yes, post processing.

Using light, using lines and the patterns or ‘story’ they create to lead the eye of the viewer to a particular subject within the image, or having an image with many stories running concurrently and in unison – something which is very hard to achieve successfully.

One particular genre which can be very challenging but also provide much satisfaction when the result is successful. However abstract photography as a genre has quite a vague or maybe a too general all-encompassing definition.

What exactly can be considered abstract photography?

Continue reading – click here..


My favourite summer dish ever. A scrumptious ‘stew’ of tomatoes. Very easy to make and an extremely tasty dish to be eaten with table manners left at home.

The image shows the dish before being cooked. In about an hour’s time I’ll post an image of the cooked scrumptious juicy mouthwatering tomato dish. Won’t last long though as it gets devoured almost immediately.

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Cranky Old Man


I received this poem by email earlier today from a friend who likes to pass on many of these kind of things. Many are merely a good laugh and nothing more but this one… this one really struck a cord so I wanted to share it with as many people as possible.

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . … . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .’I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . … lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don’t mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. …Babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future … . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. …. . ME!!
originally written by Dave Griffith

It made me stop and think a bit… My Grandmother, recently passed away at the grand age of 97, spent her last few months at an Old People’s home but had receeded into her own little world a number of years ago. Life – from the outside – for her didn’t seem to amount to much anymore. Waking up, washing, having breakfast, sitting down and watching – something which became just a formality towards the end as all her senses were abandoning her – some tv, having lunch, going to rest, having supper and back to bed for the night. Day in day out, the same routine and from the outside it seemed that nothing would change. Yet, who knows what was going on inside? Her occasional outburst of song, or sometimes a fit of sadness was the only clue that the cogs of time were slowly cranking behind the mask of dementia.

She wanted to go home she would say… something we couldn’t really understand. “You are at home Nanna” we would tell her, but that comment would be lost – lost in translation maybe?

In June of this year she took her final journey and went back home. Back home with all her memories and her beloved husband, back home to where she would be understood again.

This poem above is truly beautiful and provides much food for thought.

So sit back a while and think hard and the next time your old granny or granddad gets on your nerves because of some silly comment or action just remember that inside there still is a person who like you, like me, like all of us has his, her passions, love and life and its just that the body has crumbled and built a wall through which communication becomes difficult.

What a drag


What a drag! Getting sick in this heat of July and on my rare days off.

Spent the night doubled over with stomach pains and still in pain now. Funny thing is that apart from my stomach pains and damn loose stools I feel ok.

That is no consolation though. Its a crippling situation where the pains make it difficult to stand straight and makes you want to rush to the loo every time you feel the slightest bit of bowel movement.

Give me anything but stomach problems. A cold, flu, a massive headache, whatever but anything to do with the stomach.

Stomach pains are the worst thing life can throw at you. Stomach pains and heart brake.

Both are something you from you cannot find relief at any moment of the day, awake or asleep. They hound you and pound you until you are awake again and fully conscious of the pain.

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