catchmyfancy: (boom)
Still Windchime

Windchime in the backyard being all 70s Album Cover

Want more Autumn afternoony goodness...? )


Apr. 25th, 2011 07:29 pm
catchmyfancy: (this is my planet)
cloudless autumn sky, glorious golden sun

catchmyfancy: (latte-stein)
Apparently, this.

Two members of the Melbourne morris side (this is the correct name. Not a group or a troupe or gaggle or a gang: a SIDE) Brandragon have reproduced and got this, all fetchingly decked out in the side's red-and-green.

It is called Lucy. It pushes the boundaries of the cute event horizon. It bounced around on my knee and then fell trustingly asleep on me. It made my ovaries go "clang". agrhlegrhagh.

Lucy the morris baby

Oh dear.

Oct. 10th, 2010 10:21 pm
catchmyfancy: (that's disturbing)
I was in town eaaaaarly today, and it tends to be sort of quiet in the city centre before 10am on a Sunday (who woulda thunk it?); and, the sun was gleaming off the bald heads of the statuary (called Three Businessmen Who Brought Their Own Lunch) in a beguiling sort of way.

And so out came the camera while I was waiting for the tram, to see whether I could make the Businessmen interesting.

I got this one below, and thought it a nice little image with a decent feeling of space and not too 70s with the sunlight thing...and then I saw the billboard at which the Businessman appeared to be goggling. And my jaw dropped.

Go scroll down and look: I'll wait.

Back? Yes. I know. I KNOW.

This company is quite Well Known for their "provocative" billboards (read: tasteless and determined effort to get free media coverage by portraying women as a fairly mindless series of available orifices to be handled however). The equation of "pursuit of shoe sales=excuse to relieve themselves of exercising any kind of social responsibility. Or even the firing of a single neuron in wondering what sort of damage this image might do to how we all see each other " does not seem to bother anyone.  This image is at the heart and centre of my supposedly-enlightened, highly cultural city. *sob*  The Company of Scumlickers responsible also have a great line in smugly publicly patting themselves on the back for spraying this bullshit about.  It  is enough to make me wish I believed in a hell, so I could visit it upon them.

And now, the women-as-orifices thing must not be working so well for them. They have (pardon the pun) tapped that.

So: step forward guys! We've gotta be edgy, and you've got an orifice as yet unexplored!  Not that this guy is anything but straight.  Oh no.  Look: there's a hazy woman sashaying away from oh-look-i-fell-and-landed-awkwardly dude.

I suppose it was inevitable. But it makes me sad and distressed to see anyone (male or female...I thought I'd have a twinge of vague "hah, see how it feels, blokes of the world!" but, nope, not even a flicker) portrayed like that, 50 feet high, in the middle of town, where overseas visitors (hell - and the denizens of Melbun) will come and see it and think we are okay with reducing people to nothing but pretty plumbing in the pursuit of a fast buck.

Tut tut
catchmyfancy: (this is my planet)
Yesterday I went to the Royal Melbourne Show and swooshed around in the tides of teeming humanity; with only [personal profile] ginfancier to cling unto as a sort of combination anchor/buoy/tidal barrier.

You can take the dust and noise and showbags and over-stimulation as read. But I had a whale of a time!

About three hours in, I was sitting in the grandstand resting my feet.

A diving exhibition, with clear lineage all the way back to about 1855 and man-dives-from-great-height-into-a-glass-of-water overtones, was suddenly happening. I was sitting down. My camera was there.

And with the help of a Random Bird (and some conveniently lowering skies) to add a certain something-or-other to the composition, here is a photo actually using the zoom instead of the macro setting....(it will be rains of frogs next).

catchmyfancy: (latte-stein)
Melbourne (the one in Australia). I rather love it. And recently I started taking photos of some of the excellent things I encounter in my spare time, like:

Cafes - this is the fabulous Court Jester cafe in Brunswick. It's run by artists. The walls are covered with their art; there are slightly disturbing clown dolls on the "staff only" doors; there is a huge table for which they give you the carving tools to graffiti; water comes in a variety of vodka bottles; and they bring you a large latte in a beer stein. This is INSPIRED: the mug is thick enough that you can feel the warmth; the shape makes the crema all


Kulcha! )
Street Art! )
Wildlife! )
Yeah, it'll do me.

catchmyfancy: (Default)
The magnolia is starting its sloooow explosion of colour and complete awesome...but it's not quite into the Full Gobsmackery just yet.

Next sunday (29th) I shall be having my magnolia tree appreciation afternoon tea and scones methinks...

tone cluster

More here!
catchmyfancy: (Default)
My beautiful magnolia tree (see: icon) is working its way up to flowering.

This one peeled off the first layer today:

Magnolia peek

More macro gardeny goodness.... )
catchmyfancy: (strawberries)
Yesterday was Glorious.

Capital G intended. As in: full of Glory.

In the horrible deep grey meh of a Melbourne Winter this sometimes arrives: a clear brilliant day, with actual detectable warmth in the sunlight. The city goes very still and quiet as everyone sits or stands around and does their darnedest to photosynthesise; and life seems a little less impossible.

Even my camera got inspired:

red-veined flower

snowdrop and buds

click here for more of the pretty )
catchmyfancy: (this is my planet)
Just add rain! 

Especially if you can duck outside during a break between the downpours, when everything is at that still, cold, drippy, hushed stage of the proceedings. 

Then you get the Australian version of Raindrops on Roses; viz:

wet waxflower

click for more of the wet-in-the-wild... )
catchmyfancy: (Default)
My Dad and I went to see Carlton play yesterday at the MCG.

(Note to our non-Victorian readers: when I say "play", this is Melburnian shorthand meaning "I went to see my team in a football match nerny-nerny-ner"; and when I subtextually refer to "football" I mean the much-loved, unique and fabulously athletic game of Australian Rules football, or as we call it, "ther footy" (sic).)

(One of the best things about this town is that you can be a trained opera singer who works in a University and lives for latte, and nobody blinks if you are also a rabid supporter of a particular team and can put those operatically-trained lungs to good use at a match. You don't have to choose between sport and the Yartz, is my point. You can have them both. One conductor I know used to come to rehearsals with his North Melbourne scarf on during finals season, and schedule breaks to coincide with the last ten minutes of each quarter, so he could get match updates and god help you if you made noise chatting over your mandated cup of tea during the break when he was trying to get the score.)

My Dad has been a Carlton supporter since he was seven; and he's 75 now and still mad keen about the whole thing. Yesterday was cold and dark and rainy; the players spent a lot of time trying to work out how to hold onto the ball, we were all damp and trying to stay warm; Dad thought this was perfect footy weather and was practically chortling with glee while he shivered.

I had my little camera with me, as I thought a photo of the father/daughter football attendance might be nice. And I thought I'd take a couple of atmosphere shots of the people around us. But not of the players. Cos they were waaaaay aways down there (we were on level 2 of the Ground, and back in about Row H). But just for fun, I extended the zoom to its very outer limits, aaaaaand....

....lookit! I actually made some photos happen! Things to note:
1. Because these were taken on x-treem zoom, some of them are slightly eye-wateringly fuzzy (sorry)
2. Australian rules footballers come in pairs. Always. As it were. And there is NO SUBTEXT. None at all, nothing to see here, move along. And they are manly men, who are very manly. And like ladies. And their teammates. Who are their mates. Because they are manly men. (And yes, I love the footy. But sometimes things are just too bloody obvious for one not to poke a little fun. As it were.)

We begin:

I actually think that someone with a bigger brane than myself could find some kind of metaphor in this photo (the two players seeming so small, stalking into battle; the boundary umpire excluded from the fray, something something yadda yadda) but mostly I just like how it's framed. or composed. or something. This is not what my degree is in, OKAY?

Big Ground

damn straight it's image-heavy! )


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