The autumn leaves

I love Melbourne in autumn.

The colours in the gardens and parks look glorious against the back drop of the grey skies.

The streets and paths are piled high with drifts of fallen leaves. It seems impossible that anymore could fall, but there are still more to come.

Drift leaves
© 2015 divacultura

The old Greek men in the neighbourhood spend their Saturday mornings with their plastic rakes and garden bins gathering the leaves together.

"Doing the council's work," one of them says to me as I pass.

On a windy day, the task is sisyphean.

The punt on whether the sheets will dry on the clothesline, often pays off, despite a sky that suggests otherwise.

I find a big pile of leaves irresistible when I'm out walking.

I hope the wind has blown them into a pile as I swish and swoosh through them.

Autumn colour
© 2015 divacultura

Green, yellow and brown
© 2015 divacultura

Postcards from the city

Today's city is Sydney. If I was to send postcards today, here's what I would write on them. Maybe I should just tweet, but thought I'd write my thoughts in one place today.

______________

Why is the toilet paper's placement in relation to the toilet only functional for members of Cirque du Soleil?

______________

Gee whiz, the shower caps are shrinking! Or maybe my hair is getting bigger.

_______________

I wish I knew how those unmarked mixer taps in the shower worked. All I know, is that one direction is boiled chicken and the other is goosebumps. It's always too late when I work it out.

_______________

Walking through the park back to the hotel today, everyone was lying around and kissing each other. Not the homeless people though. They weren't kissing each other.

_______________

There's a messaging function on the television in my hotel room. I'm scared the TV will start messaging me. Hang on...it says "massaging". What...?

_______________

I pull the curtains back and gaze through the filthy windows. I am on the sixth floor. Over the road, five storeys up, a small Asian man is tethered to an unseen point inside the building. He is wearing tennis shoes and carrying a window. He hunches forward as he passes a column which leaves him with mere inches of space on the awning. He clutches the window. It is taller and wider than he is. I wait for him to fall. He doesn't. 

________________

At a busy intersection, my chances of hailing a cab should be good. After ten minutes I reassess. After fifteen minutes I start seeing things. I open the rear passenger door after I've seen the driver nod and the car stops. A startled Japanese woman squeals and recoils at the dangerous beast breaking into her cab. The light was red.

_________________

An empty cab arrives. The driver is displeased. He complains. About traffic. About driving a taxi. About the weather. About me. About turning right. I insist. He complains when I pay him. Poor man. He no longer knows what is good.

_________________

After walking through the park, I took these pictures of important Latin American men:

© 2015 divacultura

© 2015 divacultura

© 2015 divacultura

The sights, sounds and smells of a cattle sale

On approach to the Tamworth Regional Livestock Exchange, two things struck me: the noise and the smell. Perhaps the volume is similar to the other kind of stock exchange but the sounds and the smells are probably quite different. Here the smell is the earthy smell of animal sweat, manure and dirt.

Anyone got a spare hat?
Copyright 2014 divacultura

Going to a cattle sale was a new experience and I was pleased to have the opportunity. It immediately proved a good decision that I had swapped my new silver casual shoes for a pair of my brother's boots. They were a size too big but I would have been even more obviously alien in the crowd in my ridiculously urban shoes. With my hair in a pony tail, a cap on my head and clad in a pair of jeans, I was receiving some enquiring looks. I certainly looked nothing like the rest of the people there. For one, they were male. I'm not. I was wearing the wrong kind of hat. My eyes didn't have the right appraising glint as I surveyed the pens of cattle.

I was careful not to fall into a pen; it was a special female sale today and I didn't want to find out how much I would fetch.

Auctioneers busy at their work.
Copyright 2014 divacultura

The cattle are contained in rows and rows of pens with concreted alley ways in between for the buyers, sellers, agents and other people. Tags of various colours tell the story of how old they are or whether the cows might be in calf. The auctioneers walk on a gangway elevated above the pens. They stop at each pen and say a bit about the animals in the pen that's about to be sold. The auctioneer is flanked by several men in big hats who identify the bidders in the crowd. A woman is nearby carrying a big stick that she holds over the pen being auctioned. I learned that this is a scanner which takes the details of the national livestock identification tags in the ears of the cattle. This enables each animal to be traced from its birth and is important for ensuring the safety of meat.

There are several auctioneers. They wear the uniform of jeans, pale blue collared shirt and very big, light coloured hat. They are amplified by a Madonna-style microphone and portable speaker which they either wear on their belt or is carried by another person. Some of them aren't amplified at all. They talk quickly as they explain what's for sale and then they accelerate as they search for the first bid. Their diaphragms work hard to ensure they have enough breath. Eyes are watchful, ears pricked and somehow, above all the noise of the people and the livestock, purchase after purchase is made and the crowd moves to the next pen. It's exciting to see all these people at their work.

Just looking at the crowd, it's hard to see who might be a buyer looking for the lowest price they can get and who might be a seller hoping their animals will sell for enough to make some money, or at least, not make a loss. I think I see a glimpse of disappointment in the eyes of one rural man.

As I'm standing with my brother, asking all my questions so I can understand what's happening, a woman comes over and asks if she can take our photograph. She's doing publicity for the sales and we will feature in the sale highlights. I didn't expect to make the social pages of the local cattle sale, but there's a first time for everything. My brother is pleased because it will further raise his profile as a local veterinarian.

As we leave, the noise and smells recede. I look at my dusty feet, pleased that I'm not in my silver shoes. We go to the Sushi Train for lunch and I feel as if I've returned to more familiar territory. As I eat some beef, I wonder where it came from.

Here's what it sounds like:

Awaiting their fate
Copyright 2014 divacultura

Through the rails
Copyright 2014 divacultura

More hat than kid.
Copyright 2014 divacultura

Sunday Slide Show

My vocal group rehearses in the hall attached to a Russian church.
While one of the other parts was rehearsing, I noticed the shadows thrown by the chandeliers.
© 2014 divacultura

Ghostly shadow.
© 2014 divacultura

From my "view from the office" series.
This is in the old part of the Royal Melbourne Hospital's Royal Park Campus.
© 2014 divacultura

Southgate sculpture.
I took this at about 6pm while I was waiting for my dinner date.
© 2014 divacultura

Taken the same night from Southgate looking across the Yarra River to Melbourne's CBD.
© 2014 divacultura

Early spring afternoon - Swanston Street, Melbourne
© 2014 divacultura

How was your week? Are you on Instagram? Why not pop over and say hello - I'd love to see your pictures.

Sunday slide show

Some of my favourite shots I've taken lately. Lots of cityscapes as part of my "view from the office today" series on Instagram.

Looking east up Bourke Street, Melbourne, 20 floors up.
© 2014 divacultura

Looking west down Bourke Street, Melbourne, 10 floors up.
© 2014 divacultura

Stormy view of the Melbourne CBD from the backseat of a cab
on the Tullamarine Freeway
© 2014 divacultura

Same taxi ride a few moments later - the Melbourne wheel.
© 2014 divacultura

The clouds gathering above the Melbourne city - view from Southbank
© 2014 divacultura

Hope you like them! @divacultura is over on Instagram too.

What have you been photographing? 

Life at 9 and gratitude

I've come across many people this week who are in some kind of pain. Often their pain has been caused by their efforts to control things that are not within their control.

I also watched the excellent show on the ABC, Life at Nine which is following children as they grow up. This week's episode was about creativity and not only was it interesting to watch the children, but I also learned a bit about myself. 

These experiences influence what I'm grateful for everyday:

1. I am grateful for my creativity.

2. I am grateful for my imagination.

3. I am grateful for my resilience.

4. I am grateful for my own company.

5. I am grateful for my failures.

6. I am grateful that I have the capacity to write this post.

7. I am grateful that I have the freedom to publish this post.

8. I am grateful for the opportunities my parents gave me.

Here's two of my favourite photos from the week.

Shadow bike
© 2014 divacultura

Shot tower, Melbourne Central
© 2014 divacultura

What are you grateful for? Have you been watching the Life Series? Who's your favourite? (Mine's Wyatt, but don't tell anyone.)

Sunday slideshow...on Monday

Walking in the cold winter weather was a good way to clear my head on the weekend. I was blessed with some gorgeous light too. Knitting happy socks is another great way to wile away the winter hours.

Collins and Russell Streets in Melbourne city.
© 2014 divacultura

Could not resist the way the afternoon sun was lighting up this facade.
© 2014 divacultura

Love the way the leaves on the trees catch the afternoon light and look like flecks of gold.
© 2014 divacultura

Knitting some happy socks is a perfect way to keep the winter blues at bay.
© 2014 divacultura

These are made in a yarn called "Allegria". Apt
© 2014 divacultura

Lighting the fuse with Keith Urban.

On Thursday night I went with a friend to see Keith Urban at Rod Laver Arena. I'd never been to one of his shows before, but had heard good things. He had played the night before - his wedding anniversary - and was off to Narrabri in north-western New South Wales as part of his Light the Fuse tour.

We'd both had a long and busy day and had to prioritise dinner over the support act, Sheppard. We waited at the tram stop for about ten minutes and then were told, once we'd boarded our tram that we weren't going anywhere because they were waiting for the police to come and remove a drunken passenger from the tram in front. As we walked to the cab rank we passed a group of four Protective Services Officers standing out the front of Flinders Street Station. They are supposed to be the transit police, but they were no help at that moment. Two other pairs of women got off the same tram and I asked if they were also going to Keith Urban. They were, so four of us shared a $10 cab ride.

Our seats were fantastic. We were right up the front and it was such a pleasure to be at a big arena show and not have to rely on the screens to see the show.

Close enough to the see the man
© 2014 divacultura

The crowd was eclectic and the lack of cowboy hats and boots reflected that we were actually at a rock concert, rather than a country one, or even country rock. That was okay with me - I like to see talented musicians play anything (except any variety of Metal, as I've discussed before).

Keith Urban
© 2014 divacultura

The music was great. The band was on fire. There were banjos and mandolins, but this was still a rock concert. Keith stopped for a chat early on and read the many signs held up by fans. He made it clear that we wouldn't be needing security tonight and gained the crowd's agreement to be well behaved. A girl holding a sign that said "Dad said he'd give me $100 if I get a selfie with you" was brought up on stage to get the photo. Keith was hilarious. The holder of another sign that read, "Kiss me. I'm getting hitched!" was also brought on stage. She was wearing her souvenir Keith Urban hoodie and was quick to answer when Keith asked who's playing at the wedding: "You are." he asked for the date and then told the band to mark the date in their diaries.

Guitar great
© 2014 divacultura

Further into the show, he walked through the crowd up to another microphone that had been set up half way up one of the wings of the arena. He played and sang from there. The crowd was going wild - except for the sour looking woman standing next to his left leg. She was so absorbed in her mobile phone and trying to work out how to take a photo - and pushing her husband out of the way - that she didn't see a thing. And her face was something to behold.  I took some photos on my iphone, but really noticed a lot of people seemed to be only watching the show through the screen they held in their hands. What's the point of that?

At the end of the song, Keith signed the guitar he was playing and handed it to a boy who was wearing a Keith Urban t-shirt. The boy looked to be about eleven years old and he was beside himself with happiness and shock. It was quite moving.

The encore showcased some of the best music of the night and the band threw picks and drum sticks to the crowd. Keith's wristbands were also flung, one landing somewhere near us. People scrambled under chairs in the dark to find it.

After all the music had been played, the band took a bow and Keith stepped forward to thank us for coming. He acknowledged that it costs a lot of money to come to shows like these and he said he knew that most people wouldn't be able to go to every show they wanted to. That meant that we'd made choices and he really appreciated us choosing to come to his show. "Thank you."

Keith Urban is an incredible guitarist, pretty good song writer, vibrant performer and it would seem, humble and real. It brings something extra to the show.

In ballad mode
© 2014 divacultura

Sunday slide show

Now that I have a new phone, I've got space on my phone to take photos again. And I've been enjoying the new tools in Instagram. Hours of creative fun!

This photo was taken on the walkway between Melbourne Central and the new Emporium. I love the word "emporium"!

Walkway, Melbourne
© 2014 divacultura

The old Myer sign and clock are still attached to the new Emporium building. I enjoyed playing with contrast and shadows to create a silver gelatin look. I took this photo from the same walkway, looking west down Lonsdale Street.

Time passes.
© 2014 divacultura

Perfect afternoon light to take this photo of the arts centre spire. It was just after 3:30pm in Melbourne. By playing with contrast, shadows and saturation, the sky looks like a wall of water that is about to wash over the spire!

Tidal spire
© 2014 divacultura

Seconds later, a different angle and some different effects and the scene is different. I love the bright green saturation of the little patch of grass in the lower left hand corner. In the foreground is part of the scultpure by Inge King, "Forward Surge".

Surge
© 2014 divacultura

Lastly, I thought I'd show you this photo.

Eyes on the tracks
© 2014 divacultura

Here's the original shot that shows how the photo above started its life:

Self portrait
© 2014 divacultura

It was the reflection of the train tracks in my sunglasses that originally caught my attention and I decided to take a closer look. I love the finished product. I could imagine it as a movie poster, album cover or on the cover of a novel.

Without all the digital tools available today, this probably would have taken hours in a dark room. That's a satisfying process too, but much more expensive. I love just playing with various tools knowing that I can't destroy the original - it will always be there for me to play with until I reach a result that I'm happy with.

What are you photographing at the moment? Do you use Instagram?  (I'm divacultura over there too. Come and say hello!)

Overheard and my favourite photo

Overheard on the train platform this morning was a group of teenagers in school uniform:

"They should just stop stereotyping us!"

"Yes! I know! All adults do it though."

You can't write dialogue like that.

*****

I'm rather pleased with this photograph I took on Sunday morning at Brunetti's in Carlton. I braved the crowds to buy a cafe latte to take with me when I went to see "The Broken Circle Breakdown" at the Nova.  The film is a curiosity (it's set in Belgium and the main characters are bluegrass musicians) and I really liked it. The coffee was good too.

Brunetti's, Carlton, Sunday morning
© 2014 divacultura

It is miraculous that I could get a clear shot. The place was packed!

We've boundless plains to share - lest we forget

The alarm went off at 4:45am and I was immediately awake, despite being mid-dream. I could hear light rain falling on the corrugated roof and my resolve to attend the ANZAC Day dawn service in Tamworth nearly crumbled. I pressed on. We drove through the streets, deserted until we neared ANZAC Park, found a park and walked towards the crowd assembled in the pre-dawn.

Wreaths laid in Tamworth at the dawn service for ANZAC Day.
Copyright 2014 divacultura

The rain had stopped. The service was conducted with moving simplicity. The crowd was asked to join in for the hymn, "Abide with Me". I did, but couldn't hear many others. The bugler played "The Last Post", lacking power, volume and confidence, but adding in lots of notes not usually heard in the piece. (Bugles are very hard to play, especially if you're nervous or emotional.) The gentle morning warble of magpies filled the silences.

A piper played something I didn't recognise on the bagpipes and the kookaburras thought it was hilarious. My brother and I found that hilarious and had to avoid looking at each other to avoid ruining the solemnity of the moment. Meanwhile the kookaburras laughed and laughed and laughed.

Both verses of the national anthem, "Advance Australia Fair" were sung, including the lines about welcoming people who come here from across the sea: "we've boundless plains to share". There were a few more voices joining in this time.

Flag at half mast as the dawn breaks in Tamworth this morning.
Copyright 2014 divacultura

We dispersed just as the sky was beginning to lighten. People staying to talk, look at the wreaths, while others took off to find their sometimes precariously parked cars.

We went back into town later for the march down Peel Street. As the bands played, the servicemen and women, and children from every school in Tamworth, paraded before an appreciative crowd. Overhead, planes flew in a formation that looked like the outline of an aeroplane itself. Tiny children, weighed down by the medals of a deceased relative, walked restlessly; others looked curiously at the crowd while waving, delighted to receive the occasional reciprocal wave.

I was heartened to hear that all but a handful of Australia's servicemen and women are back home. I hope the others return soon and that there is no need for them to go away again unless in a community assistance role. We are fortunate. I hope that today's reflection may cause our community to be appreciative of the fact that our citizens can generally live safely and peacefully, acknowledging that this is not the case for all people in the world.  I hope that we can extend our hands to those people and be true to the words of our national anthem. Lest we forget.

Advance Australia Fair

Australians all let us rejoice,

For we are young and free;

We’ve golden soil and wealth for toil;

Our home is girt by sea;

Our land abounds in nature’s gifts

Of beauty rich and rare;

In history’s page, let every stage

Advance Australia Fair.

In joyful strains then let us sing,

Advance Australia Fair.

Beneath our radiant Southern Cross

We’ll toil with hearts and hands;

To make this Commonwealth of ours

Renowned of all the lands;

For those who’ve come across the seas

We’ve boundless plains to share;

With courage let us all combine

To Advance Australia Fair.

In joyful strains then let us sing,

Advance Australia Fair.

Sunday Slide Show

It's been a while since I posted a Sunday Slide Show, so here you go. All taken on my iphone.

In the shadow of the windmill, there is no moisture.
© 2014 divacultura

Yarnbomb in Swanston Street
© 2014 divacultura

View from the 53rd floor of the Rialto Tower - looking west.
See the Westgate Bridge just in front of the horizon? And the train in the foreground?
© 2014 divacultura

Looking west again, but more to the north than the last shot.
Here is the Bolte Bridge.
© 2014 divacultura

I love the way the bike shadows look like tulips in pots.
© divacultura 2014

6000 mobile phones weigh 1 tonne. That's a lot of landfill.
Art meets activism.
© 2014 divacultura 

Lunch table yesterday in Yarraville.
© 2014 divacultura

What have you been taking photos of lately?

A Bruce story and mixed messages from the stadium.

Melbourne was buzzing with Bruce Springsteen stories over the weekend. People were wearing tour t-shirts, old and new, and the name of The Boss could be heard when eavesdropping in cafes.

The Yarraville Festival was on Sunday and before I headed off to see the show, I had a poke around the stalls as there are often some interesting wares to be found. As I asked a stall owner about a dress, she told me that she was very excited because Bruce Springsteen is in town and "everyone is talking about it!" She then asked if she could tell me her Bruce story. Naturally I said yes.

"Well it was a few  years ago and I was at the concert down the front. My boyfriend at the time was six foot four and I'm quite short and was surrounded by really tall people. I couldn't see anything. My boyfriend told me to get up on his shoulders and I did. Anyway, I was there waving my arms around - it was great, I could see everything - and then Bruce paused and started to wave his arms from side to side, then I realised that he was waving at me! I waved back! We did that for about twenty seconds!"

Her excitement over this 20 second exchange was equivalent to the level I would display if I'd been invited for a night cap and a private audience after the show. That wasn't the end of the story...

"And the other day, I came across this video on the internet. It was made by fans, for fans and anyway, I watched the whole thing - it went for about half an hour and then right at the end, there was me waving to Bruce and he was waving back! I reckon they had me there for about 6 seconds! At least I know it really happened!!!"

She laughed as the endorphins surged as she relived the experience. I'd have to call an ambulance if she'd had the night cap.

At the gates to the stadium we went through the usual bag search and noticed that all drink bottles were having their lids removed and anything over 1 litre was being confiscated. I asked why, wondering if was a cynical attempt to boost bar sales.

"Well see that lid?" the security woman held up the pale blue lid of a Mount Franklin bottle of water.

I nodded.

"That's a potential weapon. People were throwing them at Bruce."

Her grim delivery of the message nearly convinced me until I saw the size of the stadium. The world's greatest baseball player would have trouble getting that lid to hit its target. And what kind of fan wants to throw bottle tops at The Boss? A friend later told me that the lids are confiscated so that full bottles of liquid can not be thrown.

As I sat in the stadium before the show began, I noticed all the signs around the stadium.

One sequence that had me puzzled was the invitation to "join the conversation" via this billboard:

© 2014 divacultura

This was immediately followed by severe warnings that photography is forbidden in the stadium. That third icon represents Instagram, the photo sharing social media platform. Most people would obey this sign and ignore the other.

Lastly, there was the sign that said "Text anti social behaviour to [phone number]". The idea of personal safety within a stadium environment is important and while I think it's great to provide a way for people to report bad behaviour, this instruction is very ambiguous. It could mean:

• I send a text message with the words "anti social behaviour".  What happens next?
• I could send a message that is an example of anti social behaviour, for example "$#%^ off". What happens next?
• I could send a picture of someone behaving badly. What happens next?

I suppose what they want is for a text message with details of who, when and where the behaviour is occurring so those fifteen year olds wearing a high-vis vest with the word "Security" emblazoned on the back could receive a message through their ear piece. 

There was no anti social behaviour near me and I resisted the urge to be mischievous by sending pointless text messages.

I hope Bruce wasn't injured by a stray bottle top.