Month: December 2010

David Kirkland

David is a long time friend and extremely talented photographer. He is an inventive and charismatic man who I admire greatly. This image from his photo library gives you an example of the quality of his work, which as I see it also reflects the quality of the man.

David Kirkland - Brunei Palace

William et al

Will at sunset after kayaking on Lake Burley Griffin
Will and Sophie at Lamb Island Nov 2010

Sam’s Drawings for PF

These are some of the drawing commissioned by Performance Frontiers in December 2010. Sam was asked to create a series of figures in various arrangements: working as a team, being industrious, innovative and supportive of one another. His site is

Dan in Tasmania

Daniel touring Tasmania on his cycle.

I love this image, it says it all.

Happy Dan

The Mountain

cloud shadow mountain
darkening an empty sky
the lightning shatters

Cold Comfort

Rust, that un-used plough;
vigilant in the swallowing green
shares the fugue
of its various machinery.

In tangible mist
milk-cans emptied flood the ground,
cows are sent back to pasture,
fence posts made ready to burn,
in an afflicted winter
burning cold in the comfort of sorrow.

If an old crow happens at the cloudless
this is more omen
for a shrinking market.
And when the shoulders of my father
farming this winter
are no longer brave enough to carry
the sky
I carry his gun to the gate;
we walk a silent trail
to wait for an enemy
that never comes.

The cold sun; a bright nail
pinning us, the blue weight
pressing horizons from reach.

Father searches this expanse,
his hands extend
to something…
but I see
they only move
to wave away flies.

And if there is any comfort…
my hand in his
is cold this winter.

Music in the Magic

music in the magic in the mystery
of softness in the footsteps
that your voice takes
to the place within my heart
brings a secret fascination
for intrigue’s imagination
where enchantment chords a yearning
willing obstacles to part
yet when music is discordant
I in truth cannot confide
fear comes overpowering
for the little one who hides
Yet with childish laughter promising
the joy of trusting smiles
I wonder for the soft heart
set free from all denials
I wonder for the joy of things
as they bubble as they soar
and I wonder for the song of love
on the path of evermore
music in the magic in the mystery
of softness in the footsteps
that your voice takes
to the place within my heart

From His Wilderness

The way each hill runs down
the way tree lines suspend the turbulence

My father’s arms are in these hills
taking timber from the gully

The crest of his hat starts at the waterfall
his toes peep through lantana

His advice trickles into pools from the hollows;
his boots peeled open, dry before the fire

Lizards bask like heat-curled nails in the sun,
billy smoke whispers its tale through the canopy

Through the slow step of a century
he has turned one-eyed squinting toward the sun

The scrape of sharpening-stone on an ancient scythe
sets my teeth on edge

The whistle to the bullock team calls me back
but it’s too late, my ears have gathered for another harvest

I am already removed from his wilderness.