up in a puff of smoke

Martin Sharp has died of emphysema on 1st December 2013 and this beautiful portrait of him is by his lifelong friend, Garry Shead another Australian painter whose work I also just love. This is what Mr Shead said of his portrait -
'Martin Sharp is one of Australia’s foremost pop artists as well as a cartoonist and songwriter. His psychedelic posters of Dylan and Hendrix are classics of the genre, while his posters for the Nimrod Theatre Company are also iconic in theatre circles. He also designed record covers for the rock band Cream. From 1963 to 1965 he was art director of Oz magazine. In 1970, inspired by Van Gogh’s house in Arles, he founded The Yellow House near Kings Cross which he converted into a 24-hour performance art space. During the 1970s, he was a champion of Tiny Tim and of Sydney’s Luna Park.
Martin now has emphysema. When I began visiting him I suddenly had the compulsion to paint him,’ says Shead. ‘Once I began the portrait it was like he was directing me. Martin has a museum of toys. His image of Mo (Roy Rene) became the face of Nimrod and Ginger Meggs. When I put Ginger in I suddenly realised it symbolised the boys killed in the fire at Luna Park (in 1979). Martin had the job of revamping the whole place and he enlisted the help of his artist friends, myself included.’
Shead says about the portrait, ‘I learned about Martin’s great love for Vincent van Gogh, which then influenced the way I painted it. I also saw that for Martin, Luna Park had become a metaphor for the world.’
Garry Shead has known Sharp for 50 years, first meeting at the National Art School in East Sydney. Sharp appeared in three of Shead’s experimental films, the DVD of which was released in 2011. They also published the Arty Wild Oat newspaper, which was the inspiration for Oz magazine.'

(I decided the SMH would/should have to have the most accurate Obit for him,

although one of the later paras needed a proofreader to sort the jumbled rewrite.)

In 1976 when I lived near the Paddington gallery of Clive Evatt who represented Martin, I bought a couple of signed and numbered Sharps - the gold metallic The Getting Together Of The Heads (No.22) , and The Haymarket (No.20). The first has a collage of every hippie stoney thing from early 70's counterculture London, and the second has every cartoon character known to every Baby-Boom Australian, as well as the ironic Eternity of Arthur Stace which Martin included in more than several works.
He was responsible for one of my life's magic moments when he introduced me to his friend Wandjuk (Wandjuk Djuakan Marika, OBE) who handed me his didjeridoo and explained to me how to speak into it and hear that mystical rumble. Of course I didn't achieve much, but the experience was thrilling. Thanks Martin for that, your life, and the art.

Bat-immobile

Clearly Batmobiles do not function in daylight on
Nepean Highway, Moorabbin.

My photo, c.1990, using Nikon SLR and I could just spit for missing the front end like that. 
While I am in some other world, the car is now at Movieworld QLD.
Anton Furst got the Oscar award for his production design on the 1989 Tim Burton batmovie and this particular vehicle.

Things are quiet Chez O'Dyne, out in the paddocks looking after 3 cats (and one can open doors), and a very furry dog which is shedding it's coat. Apparently German Shepherd people refer to this as "blowing their coat". It's everywhere and the ducted vacuuming just blew up.
Mainly it's quiet because I am recovering from being 'flamed' by a grouchy relative who doesn't approve of my posts.
If you are reading this you must be on the list of bloggers allowed by the last time AOD went under the radar.
Life is too brief to be bothered with people who bring nothing but aggravation.
Batman thinks so as well. He has left his busted Batmobile to the pit crew above and flown away. Haunted creatures of the night and aren't we all.

thatched heir

If it looks like a Thatcher and acts like a Thatcher then ... here is our Foreign Minister and her Prues n Trudes. She played hard and dirty sacking by telephone our NY Consul-General Steve Bracks.
If I was as mean as, I would photoshop a face on this -

text of kin

This is the Paris grave of the magnificent Tartar dancer Rudolf Nureyev, designed as one of the Tartar a.k.a Azerbaijani carpets he collected.  It is in the Russian cemetery, surrounded by the tsarist nobility who got out of  St. Petersburg and MOCKBA c.1917 as the philistine hordes were trashing their treasures. I am buried deep into revolutionary Russia lately, tracing the family of my dear and cultured friend Ariadna*Vladimirovna - and patronymics now have meaning for me. Her second name tells us her father was Vladimir. Actually pre-1917 he was Woldemar Hesse, but Russia loves change. When a Russian maiden married, her surname became her husband's but with 'a' added. Vladimir Davydov's wife would be Natalya Davydova, meaning she is one of them, Davydova also meaning the entire family.
Added to the shifting sea of people's names, post-noble Russia changed all the place names as well, ie: St. Petersburg became Leningrad., and the Bolshie hordes trashed all the noble graves as well. As one website wailed 'the miracle of Russian genealogy, is that it can be done at all'.
My obsession with genealogy (anybody's) may be the result of never really being a part of my own family. I was a satellite of their orbit right from the start.
Just looking for a link to explain the dissociative disorder I definitely have, I found the founder, and do please just shriek at what he considered to be 'a trauma':
"By the late 19th century there was a general acceptance that emotionally traumatic experiences could cause long-term disorders which might display a variety of symptoms. These conversion disorders were found to occur in even the most resilient individuals, but with profound effect in someone with emotional instability like Louis Vivé (b.1863) who suffered a traumatic experience as a 13-year-old when he encountered a viper." 
A viper? Amateur hour Louis, pull yourself together. My viper was a rattlesnake in long grass doing the full rattle. Brushed that off without a sweat. My traumas have all been as 'pure Sandoz' was to any old LSD.

The person to whom I am the next of kin, just loved the open road - well Eastlink and the tollways anyhow.  Aged 90 years and with four speed fines and a collision in the past 2 years, that I know about, his licence to drive has been taken from him, and with it, his will to continue.
Today while wading through the admin of it all (and that will be another post, get your notebooks ready) I discovered this appropriate vehicle for travel to farthest horizons:

My fellow mourners of the smelly, randy legend that was Nureyev would understand.

My next of kin is blissfully and intensively medicated, receiving those who care for him, and I pray he lasts until tomorrow at least, because today is the 7th anniversary of the brutal murder of my sweet Puppy, a six kilo Shih Tzu ripped apart in our own driveway by a bikie's 120 kg English Mastiff, escaped from guarding the meth lab across the road. I know what grief is, and so does everybody who lived in that street that day.
Until I decided to include Puppy, my first thought for this post title was Good grief Charlie Brown.
Here is the Pupster guarding Kitty when she was only months old

Karma Kami Matteoli on

Who would have thought, that even before 2DayFM got into the London inquest for suicide Jacintha Saldanha, that the dramatic arc would be repeated? (rhetorical, answer – nobody).
The entire (well-fed) world came down like a ton of bricks onto Mel Greig and her colleague after they did something they had done without drama more than once before, when they did it to a person who unknown to them of course,  just happened to be chronically depressed.
When the FBI asked for members of the public to come forward if they recognised the men who might be the Boston Marathon terrorists, Kami Mattioli thought one resembled Sunil from her school class of 13 years ago. The sometimes UNsociable Network Of The Usual Suspects gave this an instant virtual explosion almost as harmful as the actual one.

                                                       "and then hit Reddit"



Now only her 6000 Followers can post comments to her Twitter and she is no doubt bracing herself for the virtual/ethernet lynch mob, after she tried to do the right thing.  Unfortunately, as with 2DayFM and Nurse Saldanha, this involved a chronically depressed person.

He has now been found dead, but was aware before this, that he had been mistakenly suspected, and had emailed various friends to set them straight. I would risk serious money betting that Ms Mattioli has never heard of the 2DayFM phone prank, or of Nurse Saldanha.
The student, Sunil Tripathi was a Brown University philosophy major nearing graduation and ‘was last seen on March 16 on a surveillance camera after leaving his apartment at 1:33 a.m., and his family has been frantically searching for him for a month. There is no evidence tying Tripathi to the bombings.’ ‘6 feet 2 inches tall. Tripathi left his apartment without his wallet and cell phone. ABC News reported that he was "possibly depressed and left home without any of his belongings."’ A Facebook page dedicated to finding Tripathi was taken down by his family late Thursday night after suspicions about his involvement in the Boston bombing were posted on Reddit. The Facebook page was flooded with comments that were quickly deleted before the page was taken down.'

Alexis C Madrigal lays out the sequence of events on The Atlantic magazines website, but this was written pre-suicide and could disappear if the legalities that follow a death require it. Even this (pre-suicide) April 19th Buzzfeed report by Andrew Kaczynski might disappear, and it is good so please read it while you can.
It is ridiculous of me to even dwell on all this when elsewhere there is massive repression, starvation, corruption, and mass deaths of various kinds every day, but nobody would argue with my opinion of those things. There are many suspicious things to discuss with regard to The Saldanha Inquest, and the similarity of this situation required addressing.
Sunil had taken leave with permission from his philosophy course and had gone bush. His emotional state was apparently known to be fragile. If it had not been, he would have returned and probably been propelled with Kami into their 15 minutes of fame and laughed the whole thing off while raising money for the injured victims of the real bombers.
But he was fragile and now he is dead and it is not her fault, just as the death of Jacintha is not the fault of Mel Greig.
The Tripathi parents will probably not have the confluence of a Keith Vaz, MP, and a posh hospital to propel them into legal action and claims, as with Nurse Saldanha, but the tabloid public have been flung fresh sustenance in Ms Mattioli. Poor girl. What happens next will affect any future assistance the FBI might get from The Public.

a pink moth

This gorgeous MOTH was on the window frame yesterday, and it cooperated with my photography like a supermodel. It was easy to Google "pink moth" and discover at Andy's Nature Blog" that it's racing name is Oenochroma vinaria and that 'This abundant and colourful moth is widespread in Australia. Its distinctive yellow-lined pattern and fuchsia-pink colouring make it one of the easiest Australian moths to identify. The larvae feed on various plants in the Proteaceae family.' Andys photo of it is on a window frame as well. He also has other gorgeous moths - a peppermint green one with pink trim is a stunner.  I'll let you know if one of them turns up here.

Inanimate inamorata

Dear Readers

I have the Blogging Blahs and can only submit, in lieu of any constructive thought, an image of my Barbie* collection.

Mostly $2 each from opshops, I fixed them to a stretched canvas bought very cheaply from a garage sale.

When I divested superfluous clutter on moving from Brighton to Ballarat, I sold the whole thing for $400.

Opshops Barbies are always minus their clothes, so I made the black leather suit, the psychedelic shift and the gold, white lace and red spot frocks myself.
*OK one is a Skipper, and a Brooke Shields, and a Ken wearing a Jacko suit.
I miss them all actually.

rock and roll

'Geoscience Australia says Victoria has been shaken by a small earthquake.
The 4.4 magnitude quake was centred north of the town of Korumburra, in eastern Victoria. The quake was felt across Melbourne, the suburbs and into Gippsland ...'
Instead of thinking 'it could not happen here', I thought - 'OK first turn the power off at the board, turn the gas off at the main, get the dog and cat into the car so at least they are contained, a bottle of water, umm ... '
Some people have a Go Bag, but my entire life is by Go-Bag so I'm right on that score, but really Dear Readers, there is no reason at all why we should think this really bad stuff only happens in Guatemala or Turkey or Wellington and Christchurch.
Those Go Bag links are to the wiki one and the City Of Sydney one - each different from/to/than what I would have. Do you have a shake powered torch?
What would YOU do/pack first if the walls started cracking?

dawn in frosty paddock

(image copyright Ann O'Dyne May 2011. Newborn calves at Navigators, Vic. 3352)

Thank you , thank you dear PM Gillard.

Update 5 days after:
Errol Simper writes in The Australian Business Section:

Four Corners' report on animal cruelty is what journalism is all about ...

'Tony Jones interviewed Meat And Livestock Australia's export manager, Michael Finucan, last Wednesday and must have felt rather as you might after smashing your head against a brick wall for hours. The way Finucan had it, all would be well with a bit more training of Indonesian abattoir people, a bit more community patience and a massive belief in the MLA's honourable intentions.

Jones: "You're talking about sending in trainers to train (Indonesian abattoir) people, yet again. But as we know, Australian trainers from MLA had recently visited two of the worst abattoirs Four Corners filmed at. The worst of them all, the Gudrun abattoir, had six visits by Australian experts like yourself in the previous 14 months. This whole process seems not to have worked at all."

Finucan: "Well, what we've learned is that we need more intense training."

To be fair, Finucan gave viewers no reason to suspect he was anything other than a decent, well-meaning bloke. For all that, you had some empathy with Jones' next interviewee, Bob Katter. Jones: "You've just heard what the industry specialist (Finucan) on the ground is saying. What do you say in response?"

Katter: "Almost every single aspect of that interview filled me with anger, almost every single aspect of it . This person admitted they knew what was going on, that they'd sent people in to have look at this. They've known for years and years about it, and they've done absolutely nothing . . . They've been paid a fortune to carry out things in a toweringly incompetent manner."

Meantime, some will be grateful for small mercies. White, the RSPCA and the Four Corners reporter who somehow did the abattoir story without having a nervous breakdown, Sarah Ferguson (with nudges of help from Xenophon and independent MP Andrew Wilkie), have at least managed to get the grisly trade in live cattle suspended."

Thank you Errol! and Go Sarah! - dry your eyes, take the sleeping pills, and find a gown for accepting your Walkley Award.

Now the sheep exports ... ?

Resurrection

Easter is not a sensible time to drive four hours on the A300 from Mt. Buninyong, and then the B110, and today I proved my senselessness.

The traffic into Queenscliffe crawled along for miles before the turnoff, slower than walking pace.

The ferry over to Sorrento was so packed that the movable mezzanine level was lowered, loaded and raised to cram 54 cars above and below

BUT

as He was risen and renewed on the third day when the stone was rolled away,

the 5pm sun setting over Geelong was my magical moment of reward,

and what at first looked Godly,

was merely our stratosphere struttin' its' stuff.

Use your Easter Monday to celebrate stirrers of every place and time - not just Christ, J., but Bradley Manning too, and every other provocateur The System tries to quash.

Perigee Moon update

UPDATE: Here is our moon, another time (6pm winter 2010) and place (Yeo Victoria 3249), taken with same lens and merely standing in the home paddock. It was red and hanging on top of the trees on the horizon of a paddock. It was much more impressive 'live', I can assure you.
For scale, the far left of this second image (same place and time) has a bonfire of tree-trunks in the paddock.

(Ann O'Dyne claims rights of/to these amateur 'snaps'.)

"When the Moon is in the Seventh House, and Jupiter aligns with Mars,

then peace will guide the planets, and love will steer the stars ... "
NASA has the tech talk -

'the Moon is still 356,577 km away. That is, it turns out, a distance of rare beauty'

... so when I captured this Perigee Moon image, 10pm Monday night in Ballarat, I didn't bother with Zoom on my camera.

hold that baby

Yesterday in Melbourne I got this photo of the Manchester Unity facade.
While there I also used an ATM which told me I had zero balance. That's not right, I thought, and pressed 'Withdraw Money' anyhow, and wandered off with my cash.
Today's news of the CommBank software snafu explains it all.

In Sydney there were insane scenes of crowds and cash, but bless his larcenous heart 'Sam of Marrickville got $40' he did not have in his account. $40. Sam seems to know 'context is everything'.

Here is that Manchester Unity facade in context:

In Melbourne 'A 20-year-old man was charged with dishonestly obtaining financial advantage by deception, and my first thought is that new prisons will have to be built if that law was properly applied for godssakes.

Just looked at my account balance and it shows a large balance with no evidence of yesterdays withdrawal.
I feel sorry for the executive in charge of the bank IT.

Christchurch NZ

"Residents are reporting bodies lying in the streets of Christchurch following this afternoon's magnitude 6.3 earthquake.
Police said fatalities had been reported at several locations and that two buses had been crushed by falling buildings. Christchurch mayor Bob Parker has declared a state of emergency.
Christchurch resident Jaydn Katene told the Herald: "We've had friends in town call us and say there are just bodies lying around; lots of dead bodies outside shops just lying there just covered in bricks.
When it hit we were knocked to our feet. Everything in the house fell down, nothing was left still standing. There's more damage than the first earthquake, the roads are completely torn up; sewage coming up and flooding. It's crazy.
The elderly are all crying. The next-door neighbours around us were all bawling their eyes out, it was horrible. People can't get out of their houses," said Mr Katene.
We've seen cars halfway sunken into the road. We've heard there's a bus which is sunken halfway into the road just around the corner. Buildings are half-collapsed everywhere. It smells horrible. The roads are packed with cars. There aren't enough police or ambulances. Houses are all collapsing. It's pretty shocking; a total warzone."

There is nothing I can say about this - sympathy to all in Christchurch, and the hope that no family of any of our blogpals have had loss or harm. I am house-sitting for someone who went to NZ at dawn today and hope he is in Wellington and safe. We are all clinging to a hurtling ball of molten rock, and should never forget it.

Are you free?

It's been driving me to distraction every time I see his photo
and thankfully Vanity Fair magazine solved it for me.
Editor Graydon Carter pioneered the
'Separated At Birth' joke at SPY magazine back in the early 1980's.
Hopefully at the end of all the meaty Swedish legal ballsup, JA will also be able to say
"I'm free!".

nothing concrete to go on

This is my photo of partially demolished giant silos of

Joe White Maltings.
100 years an employer in the small regional city of Ballarat, the company was recently subsumed by a foreign multi-national and closed down. The land sold for housing.

The people who used to work there will be lucky to find replacement jobs, so next time you find yourself assessing another human as a benefits parasite, ask yourself first, how did they get that way.

This sort of thing is happening all over OUR country that we used to own but now just rent grace-and-favour style.

on The Barongarook

Until August, this C154 across The Barongarook is the road home for me.

Scot Hugh Murray landed from Geelong in 1837 to be the first European in the area belonging to the Coladjin Aborigines. The two earlier 1837 arrivistes, Gellibrand and Hesse, simply disappeared.

They must have been less friendly than Hughie was to the Coladjin tribe, who allowed him to build his 3rd Colac house on this hill, which he named Barongarook House, and lived there until his death in 1869. On the right of the photo, white rails frame a marker of the place.

Nothing will mark my own stay here, except happy chickens.

Eucalypt, Yeo, 7am.

In a foggy Autumn dawn, from the front door of my present haven, this gum tree soars over the old dairy shed.

The realisations provoked by this sight, put me back in my tiny place in Time and on planet Earth, as it revolves, for the moment, in dark space, relying on a flaming sun for each new day.

Later, a pair of Gang-Gang cockatoos landed in it, getting my attention with their very funny call, which sounds just like a big old creaking door - 'waaarrrk!'.

(Of course I didn't get a photo ... I found this one thanks to www.pixdaus.com.)