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• 'Dog Rocks' wins at the Henry Lawson Festival of Arts photography competition
  by Darren Stones

  The upcoming 51st Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival of Arts will be held Thursday 5th June to Monday 9th June, 2008. Some good news on a …

  The upcoming 51st Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival of Arts will be held Thursday 5th June to Monday 9th June, 2008. Some good news on a personal level is that my image Dog Rocks has been judged the Best Photograph Of The Exhibition in the photography competition. The award to be presented is a bronze statuette which has been sculptured by Michael Mandelc, and it depicts Henry Lawson’s “The Drover’s Wife”. Dog Rocks also won the Open Colour section of the competition. I’ve been kindly invited by Tim Wood, coordinator of the photography competition, to attend the Awards Dinner at Grenfell on Saturday 7 June, 2008 6:30PM to receive the award. There is a distinct connection with Redbubble regarding this achievement. Hop Dac, RB staff member, posted a topic in the main forum informing members of this competition. It was there I became aware of the competition, and I thank Hop for doing so. Upon deciding to enter, I ordered six Redbubble matted prints specifically for the competition. I wrote a journal regarding the quality of the matted prints on April 19, 2008 and it can be found here. I’m pleased to say that Redbubble and its community have played a significant role regarding this achievement and I highly value the continued encouragement given by Peter Styles, Redbubble staff and Redbubble members. The achievement is dedicated to my mate Joe Mortelliti, for it was because of him that Dog Rocks was photographed on August 25, 2007. Special thanks to my family for their continued support. Folks, enjoy your creative pursuits here at Redbubble and beyond. Cheers, / Darren. Henry Lawson on Wikipedia Henry Lawson Festival of Arts website / http://www.henrylawsonfestival.asn.au/ / Dog Rocks Capturing the bark at Dog Rocks /

• 2008 Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival photographs and acknowledgements
  by Darren Stones

  Had the pleasure of photographing the 2008 Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival of Arts Street Procession on June 7, 2008 and thought I’d share…

  Had the pleasure of photographing the 2008 Grenfell Henry Lawson Festival of Arts Street Procession on June 7, 2008 and thought I’d share a small sample of the images I took. Also like to extend my gratitude to the following people who made me feel welcome during my visit: Jenny Smith – Festival President / Amy and Tim Wood – Festival Photography Competition Co-Ordinators / Carol and Noel Jones – Grenfell Motel Owner/Operators / Julie and Geoff Grattan – Grenfell Camera Club / Noelene and Lisa Davies – Grenfell Camera Club / Jan and Arthur Davidson – Grenfell Camera Club / Colin Walsh – Grenfell Record Photographer / Peter Soley – Grenfell Record Editor / Gaynor England – Festival Short Story and Verse Co-Ordinator There’s many others I met during the festival, however I’m unable to recall all the names – my apology. I had a great time visiting and experiencing the festival, and being a small part of it made it extra special. Cheers, / Darren. More festival images can be viewed at my Flickr account by clicking here

• Some quotes for photographers and fans of photography to dwell on..
  by Jane Keats

  A photograph is usually looked at – seldom looked into. ~Ansel Adams I think a photography class should be a requirement in all educa…

  A photograph is usually looked at – seldom looked into. ~Ansel Adams I think a photography class should be a requirement in all educational programs because it makes you see the world rather than just look at it. ~Author Unknown I think the best pictures are often on the edges of any situation, I don’t find photographing the situation nearly as interesting as photographing the edges. ~William Albert Allard, “The Photographic Essay” I hate cameras. They are so much more sure than I am about everything. ~John Steinbeck Actually, I’m not all that interested in the subject of photography. Once the picture is in the box, I’m not all that interested in what happens next. Hunters, after all, aren’t cooks. ~Henri Cartier-Bresson A great photograph is a full expression of what one feels about what is being photographed in the deepest sense, and is, thereby, a true expression of what one feels about life in its entirety. ~Ansel Adams I just think it’s important to be direct and honest with people about why you’re photographing them and what you’re doing. After all, you are taking some of their soul. ~Mary Ellen Mark Photography records the gamut of feelings written on the human face, the beauty of the earth and skies that man has inherited, and the wealth and confusion man has created. It is a major force in explaining man to man. ~Edward Steichen / Edward Steichen – The Flatiron (1905)

• The total removal of Henry
  by Jackiet

  If you ask Geraldine Summers, she will tell you the exact moment when her lump originated. On that day, a young woman arrived at her door…

  If you ask Geraldine Summers, she will tell you the exact moment when her lump originated. On that day, a young woman arrived at her doorstep. She would not have looked out of place in school uniform, but she was wearing a micro skirt and tight, navel-baring top. ‘Geraldine?’ the girl said, tossing her long fair hair and openly taking in the older woman’s ample proportions and dowdy clothes, ‘I’m Candy Clayton? Henry’s secretary?’ Each phrase was punctuated by a rise in her voice that posed a non-existent question. ‘Henry and me, well, it’s like, we’ve been having an affair for the last six months, and, well, like, Henry’s going to move in with me? I’ve come to get his things?’ The Candy child, sweet in name, but in Geraldine’s eyes, somewhat barbed in personality, had come to pack for him. Twenty years of marriage, it seemed, was of no significance to Henry. The news, borne on a tiny poisoned arrow, was aimed at Geraldine’s heart, but it missed and lodged in her left breast. The cell in which it landed was so jolted by the invasion that the exquisite processes of gene duplication and chromosome detachment experienced a small blip. Or so Geraldine imagines. That very small interruption to cell reproduction was perpetuated in each generation that the cell spawned. The small, hard lump which Geraldine found whilst she was showering one May morning, did not disappear as she hoped it would. It continued to grow. By August, when she thought she really ought to do something about it, it was so threatening that her doctor sent her straight off for a mammogram and the radiologist sent her direct to the hospital. Within twenty-four hours, lump, breast and lymph nodes had been removed. There was no time for counselling or debate. There was no choice. The interesting thing was that the experience, though painful, was nowhere near as traumatic as Geraldine had expected. Though she briefly mourned her lost breast, she had always despised her flaccid lump of a body and was not emotionally attached to any part of it. The excision of the tumour seemed to signify the total removal of Henry from her life and memory. She felt suddenly freed of all the constraints which he had subtly applied during their marriage. All those bonds which had apparently been implied when she uttered her marriage vows, were gone. No longer did she need to be the stay-at-home wife, cooking, washing, cleaning, providing cocktails at six and satisfying connubial rights on demand. She could do anything now. On returning from hospital, she sat in the garden under the bottlebrush and watched honeyeaters darting in to drink nectar from crimson blooms. ‘I’m going to sip the nectar of life, too,’ she announced to them. ‘I just haven’t decided what it is I shall do.’ She started to write wish lists. She left pen and paper wherever she thought she might be struck by an idea. By the toilet, obviously; next to the bedside lamp; on the kitchen bench; in her knitting bag. / / Some things she was able to cross off as fast as she put them on. Trekking in Nepal was no longer an option and it was unlikely she’d be able to ride a camel across the Sahara. Both of those were too demanding of her body, but a slow trip in a minibus down the Silk Road should be possible. After that, she wanted a challenging career. A university degree shouldn’t be beyond her. Her brain was able to function well, though perhaps more slowly than in the past, in contrast to her overweight, and somewhat incapacitated body, which could not. The recurring theme which appeared on each of the little bits of paper seemed to be the furthering of her education. Geraldine enrolled for the new academic year and turned up in the lecture theatre on the first morning with several pads of writing paper, folders, pens, (red, black and blue) and three sharpened pencils. She was enthralled from the first moment, stimulated by fresh thoughts, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of knowledge that had been accumulated in the university libraries. She was, however, disappointed to see so many of the young students knowingly exuding ennui and wasting this glorious opportunity in a haze of acrid smoke in the canteen. ‘Education is wasted on the young,’ she growled, speaking to the other mature-age students in general but aiming at one in particular. He was a Canadian, ten years her junior and very good-looking, as she boasted to her friends. The new and confident Geraldine, fresh from her Asian adventures, flirted with him without embarrassment. She had begun to like her body and was no longer ashamed of it. After all, it had done the right thing by her and it was still alive. By the end of first semester she had scored not only High Distinctions, but a live-in lover as well. She had overheard the gossip about their relationship. She knew all too well what the other students thought. ‘She must be loaded,’ they said. ‘Do you think she’s a good root?’ ‘Maybe he just can’t see that well.’ She didn’t care. She waggled her eyebrows and tweaked her lips into a Mona Lisa smile. They could say what they liked, she and Jackson were very happy together. He nurtured her once dormant mind and it flourished. Time passed, scarcely noticed, much enjoyed, and she has her qualifications (a PhD in literature) and a career now. She is a university lecturer. In private she glows with pride. She thumbs her nose, metaphorically speaking, at Henry and at Cancer with a capital C. ‘I have survived you both,’ she says, ‘and I have gained strength from those encounters.’ In public she shrugs off compliments about her astonishing progress. In the opening class she introduces herself to her students. / ‘Just so you don’t have to wonder,’ she says, ‘about my strange shape. I had a breast removed through cancer. As the more astute of you will notice, I survived. The rest of my strange shape is purely due to fat. I like my food. Despite that, I have a gorgeous toy boy, to whom I am very happily married.’ She pouts and smirks like a Jane Austen heroine (she would love to have a fan over which she could flutter her eyelashes) and feeds on the giggles in the back row. ‘So, there is no need to waste your energy on speculation. Well, that’s a potted version of my story. What I want from each of you is a paragraph – no, make that two – about yourself.’ She lowers her voice an octave and raises her eyebrows, ‘That you’re not too shy to share with the rest of us.’ She beams at her disciples with all the delight of recently acquired motherhood, but there is the odd occasion when her composure is jolted – when she glimpses a fair-haired girl in a micro skirt and navel-baring top. Geraldine knows full well, however, that there’s even less chance of Candy making an appearance at university than there is of another cancer making an appearance in her body. Doctor Summers is relishing the freedom of life post-Henry.

• 2008 is bound to be great
  by Darren Stones

  To all bubblers, I wish you the best for the upcoming festive season, and trust ‘08 is fruitful for you. To ALL the gang in the RB Off…

  To all bubblers, I wish you the best for the upcoming festive season, and trust ‘08 is fruitful for you. To ALL the gang in the RB Office and those who produce the goods, thanks for your assistance and continuing support. Special thanks to Peter Styles, Paul Vanzella, Martin Hosking, James Pierce and former staffer Xavier Russo. I’d like to extend my gratitude to all group moderators I’m associated with. Thanks to everyone who has looked at, commented on and purchased my works during 2007. It’s a friendly and supportive community here which is professionally run. 2008 – bring it on! / Cover – Bronwyn / / January – Dog Rocks / / February – Evening Glow / / March – Australia Rock / / April – Australian Outback / / May – Gordon Stones / / June – Lightning Ridge Racecourse / / July – Cobar / / August – Cattle Drive / / September – Emu / / October – Hotel Dorrigo / / November – The Kidman Way / / December – Peacock

• Darren Stones 2009 Australiana Calendar Collection available for sale at RedBubble
  by Darren Stones

  I’m pleased to announce my 2009 range of Australiana themed calendars are now available to purchase via my online sales agent, RedBubble….

  I’m pleased to announce my 2009 range of Australiana themed calendars are now available to purchase via my online sales agent, RedBubble. There’s 12 different calendars in the collection to date which depict various aspects of Australia. You’re most welcome to browse through the collection, and if you’d like to provide feedback, that will be great. Calendars are an ideal gift for giving to family and friends, and yourself. / A snap of the jolly old fellow from last year See below for more product information. Here’s the full list for viewing. Each thumbnail is clickable and it will direct to a full preview of the calendar and unit pricing. / Australia’s Animals / We’re a bit different in Australia / New South Wales / New South Wales – South Coast / Humpback Whales / Great Ocean Road / Australia – The Bush / Aussie blokes and sheilas / Victoria / North-East Victoria / Trees In Australia / Great Alpine Road / Central Tilba

• I can't get behind that!!
  by ENaLu

  William Shatner’s Beatnik Cafe Am off to bed, / goodnite friends xxx e

  William Shatner’s Beatnik Cafe Am off to bed, / goodnite friends xxx e

• Digital Photo Comp Entry .> The Spoons
  by Jelena Mrkich

  The Our Manly Digital Photographic Competition is running from Jun 23 to Sept 2 ~ during this period 20 photos to be selected by the pu…

  The Our Manly Digital Photographic Competition is running from Jun 23 to Sept 2 ~ during this period 20 photos to be selected by the public for display at Henry Afrikas in Manly. / / Here is my entry “The Spoons”. If you feel inclined, visit http://www.ourmanly.com.au/Photo-Browse.aspx and Vote for me! Once you log in, click “Show Latest” ~ at the moment it is on page 5. Mwah!

• Around 200BC
  by SUNSET STUDIO Michael Lothian

  AROUND 200BC in China – some guy had a spark of brilliance and creative genius and discovered an artistic use for colour and shape, throu…

  AROUND 200BC in China – some guy had a spark of brilliance and creative genius and discovered an artistic use for colour and shape, through the medium of what we now call “COLLAGE”, a term which was later defined by art heavy weights “Pablo Picasso” and “George Braque”. This form of art meandered its way through the developed feudal societies of Asia, onward through the dark ages, observed by a few mildly attentive crafts people. Till…………… The art form was popularized – feverishly created and thrown upon an unsuspecting public, head long into the 20th century, in the prolific hands of Pablo Picasso, the Surrealist movement that was to follow and of course the “Colour King”, in the twilight of his life “Henri Matisse”, “collage” had found its place in the art world. “Matisse” – being heavily influenced and inspired by the art, vision and mythological life of the self titled “savage”- and self imposed exile – “Paul Gauguin”, followed in his masters foot steps and sought in a more conservative passion – the place of inspiration that Gauguin was once drawn to – “TAHITI!” In 1930 – twenty seven years after the death of Gauguin, at the age of 64 , Matisse’ found a landscape unlike that of Europe, colour and texture kissed by sun, drowned in the humidity of its verdant elements, he had come face to face with Polynesia and could not perceive his artistic work through the same eyes again! Days were spent staring over the edge of his boat slowly moving over coral, as the sun above flickered upon the waters surface, while sting rays, sharks and fish swam beneath, such a site remained engraved in his thought life – it ignited a creative source of perception that he would not be able to do anything but surrender too – and so his chosen form of medium in such, as a aging and less able man, was “collage” This isn’t an art history lesson, though there isn’t anything wrong in being schooled in something now and then. I simply wanted to show that every ones got their influences, sources of inspiration, no matter what field one works or finds purpose in? We are the sum total of the ages, in all that we do, say and believe – we appropriate, borrow, add to, create and revolutionise today with the building blocks of yesterday and to do so with out acknowledgement and praise of those that have trod the path before us, is a life self centered and destined for mediocrity! I think anyway??? So yeah – i do collage – I absolutely love collage – but i wouldn’t of been able to enjoy what i do unless these amigos above here did what they did and sought the expression they felt only applicable in the humble medium of “COLLAGE” Otherwise i wouldn’t be hip to it! :) Also An honourable mention in the collage elite sunset hall of fame is: Romare Bearden A legend if ever there were!!!!

• Autism Awareness Day
  by MrsO

  Hello every botty (oh God now I’m stealing my children’s lines!). Sorry. Hello everybody! Please mark in your diary’s that next week on…

  Hello every botty (oh God now I’m stealing my children’s lines!). Sorry. Hello everybody! Please mark in your diary’s that next week on April the 2nd is Autism Awareness Day. As some of you may know my 7 year old son has Asperger Syndrome (a mild form of autism). Today I was made the Creative Director of our local Autism/Asperger Group. I feel very proud, protective and honoured to be part of this very special community. There are many children with all different forms of Autism, and many more will be diagnosed. So perhaps next Wednesday, whether you know someone with Autism, or someone with an autistic child, perhaps you could send a thought, prayer or simply have a cup of tea, or raise your glass to these very special individuals we have been blessed with. p.s My oil painting “Autism 7.14.21” is now available for sale as a card. (Any awareness to help my beautiful boy and others like him). / / Much Happiness / MrsO

• All God's Creatures Great and Small
  by crzadkiewicz

  The other day I witnessed a tragic, utterly heartbreaking event, one of those occurrences you cannot, try as you might, get out of your m…

  The other day I witnessed a tragic, utterly heartbreaking event, one of those occurrences you cannot, try as you might, get out of your mind. In fact, it is with me still as I sit here in front of my computer tapping away on the keys. / / After lunch, my husband and I left the house for our afternoon walk. We try to walk at least an hour each day around the neighborhood. It provides us with exercise, fresh air, stress-release, and an opportunity to talk together about this and that, the way married couples do, or at least should. / / Anyway, we were not long into our walk, only about halfway down our street, when we saw two children playing in their yard with their dog. It was what some people call a “mutt,” just a little tan and white dog and kind of shaggy; and it was laughing as it enjoyed a game of chase on a sunny day in December. (No one can convince me that dogs don’t laugh. I know they do). The little dog was, in fact, boisterously happy and having a high old time.) / / Right at that moment I noticed a white car coming down the street in our direction; and just as I said something to my husband, the little dog, for some unknown reason, darted out into the street. It all happened so fast. In a heartbeat, the little dog’s laughter was silenced. The driver probably didn’t even see the dog. After all, she was talking on her cell phone, caught up in some important conversation that couldn’t wait until she returned home, which, by the way, was but one street over. / / She did stop, however, but so abruptly, the car’s right front tire came to rest atop the little dog, pinning it to the street. Although obviously still alive, its dark eyes glazed with pain and confusion, the dog didn’t make a sound. / / I was in shock. I yelled, “Oh, my god” and heard myself repeating it over an over. My husband, although surely as stunned as I, yet ran over and told the woman, “Back up. The dog is under the tire.” She got out of the car instead. My husband again said, “Back up. Your car is on top of the dog.” At that point, the woman finally reversed the car. And the little dog that had not uttered a sound when it was hit, not even a yelp, still didn’t cry or scream or even groan. It just started crawling away, desperately trying to get somewhere safe, or so I imagine. Its back legs were both crushed. That was obvious. They were badly mangled, with bones showing. Still, the dog didn’t scream, although the pain had to be unbearable. Using only its front legs, it dragged its poor, broken body onto the carport of the nearest house. / / I saw a man come out into the yard where the little children had been playing. I called, “Do you know whose dog this is?” He said, “It’s mine. I thought it was in the backyard.” He came over. The woman got a tarp out of the trunk of her car. The owner used the tarp to wrap the little dog, picked up the dog, and started toward his house. My husband told the owner there was a vet just about a mile away; but the owner just nodded and continued on toward his house. / / When we passed the owner’s house, I didn’t see anyone about and his SUV was under the carport, and it was still there when my husband and I returned down the street about 20 minutes later. I wondered if the man had taken the dog to the vet. I still wonder. Or, perhaps, did he simply put it in the yard to die? Leave it there like an unwanted shattered toy? I also wonder if the little dog ever made a sound, although I hate to think of it crying, especially since I cannot forget how happy it had looked just a few moments before that car came down the street and silenced its laughter forever. / / In 1928, Henry Beston wrote these words: / / We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth. / / / If all dogs go to heaven, I believe that little dog is there now; and he is running, playing, and laughing aloud

• A little bit of history
  by John C McBain

  No, this isn’t a history lesson, it is a small piece of my life and how I came to where I am at the present. I was born in Liverpool, En…

  No, this isn’t a history lesson, it is a small piece of my life and how I came to where I am at the present. I was born in Liverpool, England which makes me a ‘scouser’. I grew up mostly in Lancashire with diversions to Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and Gibraltar. I am a total Lancastrian at heart. When I was 17, I joined the British Army but I had a passion for photography even then. While in the army I became a part time assistant to Royal and social photographer Tom Hustler. Tom was an extremely competent photographer who had never passed a photographic course in his life. I met my partner during that time and eventually moved over to Australia. / I base a lot of my work on the style of Henri Cartier-Bresson as I am always looking for that moment in time, but I am also looking for the reality of life. / I sometimes work with a good friend Matt Setright who is on this site, who I am mentoring.