Horsing around

A puppy followed me home.

It vaguely resembled snowy and was delightfully inquisitive, sniffing and fossicking through garden beds and hedges. Yet it kept checking to see where I was, and would step into line with me for a minute or two, before sniffing some else out and disappearing. Back and forth, he (she?) went, till I reached my garden gate, then it turned around and retraced it's steps home.

A friend's dog gave birth to ten puppies on the weekend. My heart aches for an animal companion.

I managed to somewhat sedate my love for horses, by horse riding over Easter. But Anne Hall's images has stirred up my longings to nestle in the mane of a mare and ride some lonely trails.

It goes something like this

I came across Hilda Grahnat's stunning photography via Lucky Pony - her pictures feel like putting on a pair of socks that have just come out a dryer - warm, fresh, perfection.

Her blog is packed full of gorgeous images, so I've just posted a couple which tell the story of what I got up to today.

Closing the Book

[From me to you]

I’m closing the book. Change is a foot.

I’ve just pressed send on an important email. Yes Sir/Madame, I’m putting in my notice. I am resigning.

Now I’ve only got a handful of days (and many, many Easter eggs) - till I’m a ramblin’ vagabond.

Photo essay

I've been following the Sunday Travel Selection on the travel blog Almost Fearless. This photo essay by Madga Biskup blew me away. I adore the brilliant colours and was taken back by the perfect composition of each shot.

Gosh, I only have five weeks till I fly out - I need to practice using my camera!

Photo

I passed my driving test this weekend. After four years of working my way through the provisional plate system, I am now a fully qualified driver. Huzzah! I also had to get a new licence. The licence will last for five years. Portrait pressure.

I always get nervous about official photos - whether it was school photos, passport photos or photo ID. Besides the point blank vibe - I also fret over how the photo will be perceived, as it's designed to identify me.

A couple of years back when renewing my passport, I was so obsessed with making sure I met all the photo specifications (no smile, head in neutral position, no facial hair*, no shadows, hair pulled back) I ended up with a horrendous photo. I look washed out and dazed, one eye bulging slightly and my skin blotchy. Yet this was a successful photo, as it is an incredibly accurate image of how I look after a long haul flight.

With regards to my driving licence, it's mainly utilised as an ID when at a bar or gig. I tend to have put a smidgen more effort into my appearance when out and about (and hope that I don't resemble my passport photo). So yesterday I tried to get Saturday night fever in my passive expression.

Well it's safe to say it's not a grand photo. But at least my left eyelid wasn't drooping.

*I have yet to grow a beard. Nil follicles on my chin to date.

Trigger point

[Valentino Vamp]

This picture is an uncanny replication of my physio session yesterday.

My legs awkwardly thrown in the air, bottom exposed and a look of pain + helplessness on my face, as my physio (a muscle bound, ex-rugby player) did trigger pint massage on my right gluts. Ouch.

I have a pile of stretching and strengthening exercises to do, but a return to running is looking likely for the weekend ahead. Booyah!

Vote one: books

Eye candy to clear my head from yesterday's ballot fatigue.

[images via: Marci and Deth]

Horses

[Via: Bird don't sing]

I miss horse riding. I miss greeting the stable of horses, the tough decision of picking only one for the afternoon – then the rituals which would follow, of brushing, combing and dressing. Then saddling up and building from a gentle trot, to a canter around the park.

Unfortunately, horse riding isn’t the cheapest of pursuits, so it has fallen by the wayside, in an attempt to save for travel.

Won’t be it be lovely to combine the two?

Sure that would be infinitely more complicated and expensive – but I already have a name picked out for my horse, so isn’t that half the work done?

A boy and his pony

[image via: Robin Schwartz]

The story behind this picture blows my mind, you can read it here.

Reading rock

I thought that my weekend was shaping up to be perfection with charades and picnics planned - but it looks like Rock Hudson pipped me at the post by 59 years, with these lovely photos taken of him hanging out at home in 1952.

What I like about the photos is that he doesn't look like a douche posing for pictures whilst reading without his shirt on, in fact I wish I could look as stylish when I'm reading, I typically slouch and have the unsightly habit of twisting my lower lip with my index finger and thumb. I think I need to practice my reading poses! Luckily for the wider community my finger is twitching over the mouse to buy this, this and this.

Though these books may be somewhat of an ironic selection to use to practice seductive sitting, but they look so damn interesting!

Images via: IMDb

Heart beats, city streets

My heart gallops in anticipation of revisiting my old London haunts.

Images via: From Me To You

Art me up

I was having a quiet moment of contemplation at work today - okay I admit I was daydreaming, but it was work related.

Well sort of.

I was daydreaming about what I would rather be doing for a pretty penny. Usually radio host (on triple j) or librarian tops the list, but today I want to be photographer for the google art project.

google

The Interior of the Palm House

coffee grinder, cup and glass on table

pipe and fruit dish with grapes

In fact I think I would do it for free. Heads up google – cheap labor right here.

23 on the 23rd

[image via: From me to You]

The night is slipping away. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tomorrow is the 23rd and I will turn 23. There is a strange romance to simple symmetry.

Debbie

I slept in this morning. I had planned to do a long run, however the day has moseyed along, inching up celsius by celsius. So a late breakfast with the newspapers and dip in the local pool is the new plan.

Debbie Carlos sounds to be a bit more organised on the weekend. She camps, she cooks and takes dreamy photos.

Ships at Night

My sister works random shifts and never has a set schedule. Sometimes it's like we're ships passing in the night, with days slipping by without seeing one another. So when we discovered that we both had the same day off work, we shared conspiring grins.

Like wannabe ladies who lunch, we set off for Bourke Street Bakery.

We didn't need to fill the air with words to enjoy each others company, we just sipped coffee and read. Mish is halfway through the wonderfully addictive "Born To Run" and I'm lapping up "Little Bunch of Madmen: Elements of global reporting".

Afterwards we ambled our way to That Vintage Shop for a stickybeak.

From there we went to May Lane - where the walls, gutters, garage doors and garbage bins are the canvas for the creative.

My observational skills are fairly lackluster at the best of times, I didn't realise to what extent, until I awoke this morning having slept the night on a textbook. My brother had kindly left me a book on photography in my bed as a surprise birthday present.

Ironically lesson one in photography is to open your eyes to the world around you.