Red Centre
Rather than the Australian red centre, this is a detail shot of the UNSW (University of New South Wales) version.
I find the green of the yuccas to be a pleasing contrast against the terracotta coloured tiles. Also, that they appear to be standing sentinel in protection of the building.
This was a particularly windy morning with many passersby. It was a case of snap and go to get the photo.
We have spent the last two weeks mostly in doors. For the first time in 24 years we have both been ill at the same time with the most horrendous virus.
How heartening it was today to spot this plump red beauty with yellow tips. The first botttlebrush I have seen in Spring 2017!
The landlord has let us know they will be increasing the weekly rent by $15. After viewing a daggy* house for rent yesterday, that is $130 cheaper than the current weekly sum, I have renewed appreciation for the relative grandeur of a current dwelling.
The above is tile from the backroom fireplace.
*Daggy – Australian origin.
adj. not stylish, out of fashion, not trendy, not cool, untidy, unclean, not neat.
After our second visit to the gym this week, I am buzzing, and ready for whatever life throws at me. Rather than checking the TripView app for the time until the next bus arrives, I throw caution to the wind, knowing they run every ten minutes. As I cross the road at the Norton Street pedestrian crossing I see the red bus. I run to catch it. Passengers who are slow to board, delay the departure of the bendy vehicle.
Phew, I end up on a seat with little leg room; at least I’m sitting. My mind gets caught up with work emails and planning for my meeting with the new Director, who starts next Monday.
I realise the bus is not following the regular route. After the driver passes the second turn that would have rectified his mistake I realise I’m on the wrong bus. We are heading north instead of east. I alight to look for a toilet under 201 Elizabeth Street, I’m sure I’ve used one here before! Aiming to make my way to the M10 bus stop on Oxford Street, I’m delighted to see signs to the subterranean Museum Station.
Knowing that a diversion through the station will take me under the busy road I head off on a voyage of discovery, into a network of tunnels, shopping areas and railway platforms.
Amazingly, I arrive at work only ten minutes later than expected!
Untitled bronze sculpture, group of figures by Bert Flugelman, 1964, UNSW Sydney, Australia. Taken while traversing the University campus.
In a previous post I wrote about my dilemma of finding the best way to travel to work on public transport. I think I have the answer.
The M10 from Leichhardt runs around every ten minutes in the morning. The journey time is between 45 minutes and one hour, depending on traffic. This trip pays a dividend in the form of exercise time. Ten minutes walking from home to bus stop on the flat followed by ten minutes through campus, mostly uphill.
According to The Conversation I need to walk at a moderate pace for at least 30 minutes for five days per week. The remaining 10 minutes can be achieved on the trip home by either alighting two stops early or catching buses whose routes don’t pass the end of our road.
Any walking I do during the day is a bonus!
A long Saturday lunch spent listening to the Winter breeze rustling through the leafy trees.
Getting the table ready for a Winter feast.
Blue Line, 1919
Georgia O’Keeffe (1887 – 1984) America.
Oil on canvas.
Part of an exhibition of modernist artists with Margaret Preston and Grace Cossington Smith at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
The Lacquer Room, 1936
Grace Cossington Smith (1892 – 20 Dec 1984) Sydney, Australia. Oil on paperboard on plywood.
Part of an exhibition of modernist artists with Margaret Preston and Georgia O’Keefe at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
KADER ATTIA, Untitled, 2014, 116 stained glass fragments, metal screw hooks, and fluorescent fixtures.
Museum of Contemporary Art, Australia
The above is installed in a temporary wall. When entering the one-man show one approaches the back (or is it the front) of the piece. There is a rough, torn out hole in the wall, pieces of plasterboard lie scattered and heaped on the floor. The structure of the wall and the lighting behind the stained glass can be viewed through the hole.
This installation reminded me of a disused church in Worcester, England that had lain empty for a while. Pieces of bottle green and purple coloured glass from the windows, lay on the earth surrounding the building. It was eventually converted into expensive apartments.
theINFP 