Art for Dummies

Words fail me at the moment, so I’ve been doing a bit of postcard colouring instead, using the output as birthday and thank you cards.

Quite smudgy in places, but life is not lived by colouring between the lines.

Treasure Hunting

Shopping is one of my least favourite activities, so I usually try to avoid it. But when I’m travelling, I love to shop for small, unusual gifts for family and friends.

Shopping prep, Granville Island. Photo by Vi.Shopping prep, Granville Island. Photo by Vi.

My husband’s not an easy giftee. He has everything he needs, and although he doesn’t have everything he wants (who does?), my budget doesn’t extend to Beneteaus and Breitlings. So his gifts from my travels are somewhat (ahem) eclectic. This is the latest.

Miniature Solar-powered RainbowMaker designed by David Dear

It’s an elaborate yet simple piece of engineering (to delight a child of any age).

Rainbows…go, catch some.






Weekly Photo Challenge: Vivid

I’ve lived in Sydney for longer than the annual Vivid festival’s been going, but this year is the first time I went down to the Harbour to take a look. It’s fabulous, the atmosphere, the music and the visual splendour. Tonight’s the last night, so if you’re in Sydney and you haven’t been yet, get rugged up, and head to Vivid tonight for a wonderful evening.


Museum of Contemporary Art, Circular Quay, Sydney

For those of you who couldn’t make it, you might be interested in these Vivid 2015 videos from YouTube.

Customs House

Sydney Opera House

Museum of Contemporary Art

For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring

bb-spr1Of course, spring is nowhere to be seen right now in the Antipodes, so there aren’t any current suitable subjects, unless one thinks outside the spiral. And I’m (supposed to be) in the depths of a brain-clogging university assignment on business ethics, so am not in much of a lateral thinking mode. I took this one back in December at the Ashcombe Maze and Lavender Gardens on the Mornington Peninsula.

Five entries with an alternative take on this week’s WPC:

Weekly Photo Challenge: The Hue of You

I'm a night person - chronotype: late

I’m a night person – shadows and light – chronotype: late

What chronotype are you?


For more entries to this week’s WPC, see The Daily Post

My 5 favourites

These Vagabond Shoes

Promenade Plantings


Broken Light: A Photography Collective

The Quotidian Diary


Weekly Photo Challenge: Saturated


On a grey, saturated day in May,
the trees at a local nursery delight
with their saturated colour display

Sunset in the Blue Mountains

As does a sunset in the Blue Mountains


Little moments of the right kind of shock and awe

For more entries to this week’s challenge, see The Daily Post.

My 5 favourites:

Let the Great Wheels Spin

A Meditative Journey with Saldage

@ The West Gate

Wood Rabbit Journey

Puncta Lucis

Weekly Photo Challenge: Colour

bb-c3Skin colour, hair colour, eye colour, lip colour – of what consequence?

bb-c4It’s the colour of the heart that matters.

I usually post links to my five favourites from the the Weekly Photo Challenge, but, this week, Allen Shores bewitched me with starlight…


For a moment,
they bob,

these dull black balloons,

tethered to the traffic lights
in stringtime contemplation,

hermetic thoughts
jostle and tangle,
in colourless mirror-image

to dream themselves red-hot
airships unleashed,

cerulean adventures
aloft a blue-moon day.


Wonderfully talented photographer Madelaine Cappuccio has teamed my poem ‘Pedestrian’ with one of her beautiful balloon photos over at her blog, Images by Madelaine Cappuccio.

Thanks, Madelaine 😀

Weekly Photo Challenge: Purple

Never trust a woman who wears mauve, whatever her age may be, or a woman over thirty-five who is fond of pink ribbons. It always means they have a history.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891

For more entries to this week’s photo challenge, see The Daily Post at

No Jacket Required


draw, paint, sculpt,
create symphonies, move to
mirth or action,
sing with the voice of angels
(or the sublime Ms Fitzgerald),
cure with digitalis,
build to withstand
the aftershocks of a billion


in an instant,

locate true north
of a moral compass,
see the colour of a

beating heart


This perfection:

deep indigo of the blueberry,

saturated primaries of the King Parrot,

ochres painted by the setting sun,

is exquisite pain; I want its DNA,

to become the silence of the desert night,

whisper of quarks in the inky blackness,

nocturnal song of the African bush,

to inhale sensation of crushed silk,

embody cool water on skin,

synthesize oblivion of deep sleep.

But these are lambent shadows,

intangible ticklings

of some ancient sense –

when observed, they are gone.