The past few days have been hectic, so I had to forgo one of my instalments for the series.
But here's the next one.
The past few days have been hectic, so I had to forgo one of my instalments for the series.
But here's the next one.
In May 2012, visiting Budapest with my parents, we ventured from our hotel for our first full day in the city.
Just on our doorstep was this beauty, containing the Parisi Udvar arcade, though its full beauty hadn't yet revealed itself when I started photographing the building's exterior.
I'll write a piece about it and our experience when I share the second of three instalments of photographs.
I let the team down.
This monument and some flowers attached to a railing near the Isle of Man ferry terminal were the closest I came to photographing a grave while visiting Liverpool last week.
Nostalgia was heavily represented: tributes in various forms to The Beatles, Billy Fury and others. And my memories of Pier Head swirling around my head.
But my time in the city was too short to allow time to seek out a cemetery.
There may have been graves in the Our Lady and St Nicholas Church Garden, but I only paused briefly to capture the church before moving on.
And even when I photographed this monument, I had forgotten seeing it on the map.
Google Maps records it as the Titanic Memorial. Wikipedia tells me that was the original intent of the monument. However, it took on a broader recognition of the heroes of the marine engine room after World War I.
From Wikipedia: The memorial was intended originally to commemorate all 32 engineers who died in the sinking of Titanic on 15 April 1912. Liverpool was the Titanic port of registry, as well as the home of the ship's owner, White Star Line. Construction was funded by international public subscription.
Spaces were left on the monument to record the names of other engineers. However, due to the heavy loss of life throughout World War I, its dedication was broadened to include all maritime engine room fatalities incurred during the performance of duty. Shrapnel damage from bombs that fell during the Second World War can be clearly seen on the monument.
The shrapnel damage mentioned is apparent in the photo I took. However, I was so conscious of time (and the weight of my luggage on my shoulders) that I didn't stop to inspect the monument more closely and take more photos. I only looked up this information after editing. I realised I should have spent more time capturing it.
This gold-painted Royal Mail post box caught my eye on the high street in Coedpoeth during a photo walk while sitting Meg and Mog in October 2021.
As the plaques say (in Welsh and English), Royal Mail painted it gold in celebration of Tom James, one of the British coxless four men's rowing team who took gold in the London 2012 Olympic Games.
Though he was born in Cardiff, he considers Coedpoeth his hometown, and he also has a post box painted gold in his honour in nearby Wrexham.
I did not know this was a thing. But, according to Wikipedia, All British gold medal winners at the 2012 Olympics were honoured with appearing on Royal Mail postage stamps, and having a post box in their home town painted gold. (I'm not sure why Tom got two, but Wikipedia cites the Wrexham one as his main one).
Apologies for the radio silence the past week.
I'm playing catch-up after a busy week of work, meeting up with old friends and meeting new people, and finding out more about some potential work.
My temporary employment is dropping down to 21 hours this week. I'm both pleased and nervous about it.
I'm pleased to have more time to do creative things for myself (and you!), but obviously, the drop in income is less welcome. The new work may fill that void but not immediately. We'll see.
Dad and I also managed to have one of our lengthy Skype calls this past week, and I've been wrangling with some health issues.
Last night and in the wee hours of this morning, I finally edited my photographs of Ross Fountain in the West Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh. I took these during my last visit in August 2011.
Since it was restored in 2018, it looks different to when I captured it.
I hope to return to Edinburgh sometime in the next few months. I just need to arrange some reasonably priced accommodation or a cat-sitting gig there :)
The ballroom at Bletchley Park.
I thought this year I'd change things up a bit and share some of my vast quantity of floral images on Fridays, with the odd fungi image making an appearance.
The change is driven by my supply of fungi images running low for now. Many of my fungi photos were taken on my iPhone and shared on social media soon after.
But also because I want to share the many beautiful images of flowers I have taken over the decades. And they don't really quite fit into the travel category (though often taken while travelling), and, unlike my late bloomers series, these flowers are real.
So, I'm kicking off my new series of #FloralFriday posts with two photos I took back in 2009 of the striking yellow-gold flowers of a silky oak tree in Redland Bay, Queensland.
During my childhood, my parents and my grandfather tracked down various items of furniture made from the silky oak tree.
They sanded them back, varnished them and furnished our homes with them. Two sideboards and a dining table and chairs I grew up with were lovingly restored, among other items. And more furniture in my grandparents' home in Canberra.
Growing up, I never realised these flowers grew on the same trees the furniture I was surrounded by during my childhood were fashioned from.
I've decided to call this curated series a floral tribute.
Day thirty-five of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
I left my sketch until about 23:30 yesterday because I did some catching up on sleep and then worked for about six hours.
So I finished yesterday's drawing a few minutes after midnight today.
Full disclosure: I did correct the lean on this with a slight rotation when cropping in Photoshop. I'm not sure if that was in my photography or in the original drawing.
It didn't fix the general wonkiness of the guitar's neck and other elements, though.
Looking at it as I prepped it for posting, I was reminded of Tom Wait's The piano has been drinking (not me). I was sober when I started drawing, I swear! :)
I sketched this with a 4H pencil. Added shadows using a 6B, a 4B and a 2B. I went over some of the outline with an HB pencil and accentuated other spots with the 4H used heavier.
I wanted to visit Tamworth on previous road trips. But it's so far inland, and many people argue it's not a particularly interesting route.
Simon and I hadn't planned to visit Tamworth on our road trip from Melbourne to Brisbane in November 2019. We'd been planning to take a mostly coastal route with a detour into the Blue Mountains.
The bushfires had other ideas.
So I finally, after 42 years, with all but about 11 of them living in Australia, made it to Tamworth.
To be honest, we didn't see that much of the city as we were conscious we had a way to go to beat the bushfires to get to my uncle's place the next day.
As it was, during the first part of our road trip, the route via the New England Highway had been closed due to bushfires. We just managed to cut through in a period when it had reopened after the fires that devastated areas around Glen Innes and Tenterfield. While the bushfires were conveniently distracted by the enticing landscapes of Port Macquarie, where we had intended to stay in a caravan park cabin.
If the Devil had proposed a deal whereby I could visit Tamworth but, in exchange, large parts of Australia had to burn, that was a deal I would not have struck...