Cosplay Beau Peeps

In the wine department of  Daimaru in Sapporo, I pestered these two Cos Players for a pic. The two rabbit ear fingers still seems to me an ambiguous sign, but the speed in which they downed their shopping and assumed their pose, the instant agreement to be subjects is laudable. We need more Cos Players everywhere.

Play Sydney for Me

Sydney Habour has that habit of flirting, darkly, brightly, the complete coquette, here in just past sunset's monochrome, the architecture of clouds wins out, or does it, over the Bridge and Opera House.

Winging It - Ray-son de etre

A group of manta rays, winging through the aquamarine water of Heron Island.  The elegant take-away ray message here is clear: No to Dirty Coal being trucked through the Reef.

Salt Crust Sunset

The ferry trip  to the Quay, has a constant once-upon-a-time-ness, a feeling that at any minute, you might suddenly shift into a novel.Like Elizabeth Harrower's The Watch Tower, which I have just finished reading.  It as just been reprinted in the excellent Text Classics series, and while I might rightly chastise myself for not reading it before, I could better spend my time reading more Harrower.  Despite the gulf of time between the novels' characters and this ferry trip, they both share in that out of kilter, sense of near claustrophobia.  Harrower's portrait of middle class misogyny is acute, and sadly, still completely relevant.

Museum Pieces -The Man on the Bus

I'd seen a cavalcade of vintage buses on Australia Day, precarious double deckers and these single decks,  museum pieces, leaving the leaving the Leichhardt Bus Depot, and then in the city, this one trundling down Philip Street. That it seems to be flying under the banner of the Museum  of Sydney is apt. That lone, illuminated passenger pure nostalgia.

Manifestations at the Studio Ghibli Museum

My agent abroad, asked to snap up any interesting manhole covers, sent back this one-off gem, a pure Ghblii-ism, the functional ears and riveting smile say it all. 

Goldilocks Planets -An Egg Sample

Somethings make such passionately good visual metaphors, are so illustrative of something profound yet ineffable ( and yes, I admit that so far this post is entirely content free) that you feel honour bound to construct some half-poached back story to so the visual hyperbole gets an outing. Here my tenet is that for every dark ( though passionate) and in hospitable planet, there is a goodly globe, where Czechoslovakia figures largely. OK?