Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Haiku - Walden Pond




Sunday, January 3, 2010

His Fault Villa

Recently while staying in Auckland I did a number of very pleasant cycle rides. One day I took along my camera with the purpose of obtaining some shots that would make good blog posts - Well! in the Auckland suburb of Davenport where I began to keep a look out for some quirky things to photo I obtained within a couple of hundred meters about half a dozen very interesting photographs - this is one of them.

This photo begs a number of questions:
- Why was it his fault?
- Has the result of his fault been ultimately positive or negative?
- How often has this plaque been photographed?
- Does everyone comment on the plaque who knocks on the villas door?
- How many times has the plaque been a party ice breaker?
- How many times has the plaque been stolen?
- Is the owner going into commercial plaque production?
- Has he been forgiven for it being his fault? Does anyone care?
- Does the postman smile with solidarity every time he delivers the mail?
- Is the owner of the house in fact a single woman wanting to blame someone?
- Is the owner of the house in fact a single man with a persecution complex?
- Should all Kiwi males visit this house to burn incense and pray for forgiveness?
- Should all Kiwi males visit this house and laugh like fuck?

Will contemplation of these perplexing questions lead us by a set of complex logic to ask other important questions such as - Did the sky really fall on Chicken Lickens head? - How can anyone resist Fate's will? - If I hold my breath and suck my tummy in will people fail to notice I have been a pig over Christmas and put on 3 kilos?

So many questions, so little time.


Saturday, January 2, 2010

Happy New Year

I watched a full moon rise above the Tarwharanui Peninsula at Snells Beach in Warkworth on New Years Eve - May your life in 2010 be as full as this brimming moon and may love and compassion light your way.

"A person's life purpose is nothing more than to rediscover, through detours of art, or love, or passionate work, those one or two images in the presence of which his .... heart first opened. " - Albert Camus