tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37180813256809993542024-03-05T21:28:54.256+11:00Tasmanian GothicBackground information about my art
(and other things)Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.comBlogger119125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-14884396541527409202023-11-25T17:59:00.001+11:002023-12-18T22:13:35.729+11:00Inaugural dAda mUse Surrealist Art Prize<p>At the museum in Stanley I found a photograph of an early 20th century tinker, by all accounts a colourful character, who travelled with her horse and cart around north west Tasmania selling kitchenware made from recycled kerosene tins. While drawing I thought about her life and the things she made and somehow this figure emerged from my subconscious, in the best surrealist tradition. So I painted it. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV78suBUcKu5YnbQ-YHQMgj7rjTFJbAFu0SiseOHBqVGaGg1yEmtT17ITgTSf1K-iu9S0Zd9wC2T0C9UhVJq0qw1msGn_ODpgrT2LIVuLNVYH5xTL0yY5A0G9XXAYYUEGT8VjoLmsvabEqT5ppxE9sDfyatlr_kmJmkm6n_-13bhsoPvBdtsWtZxLjhTg/s600/fb_tinkersChild.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="465" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV78suBUcKu5YnbQ-YHQMgj7rjTFJbAFu0SiseOHBqVGaGg1yEmtT17ITgTSf1K-iu9S0Zd9wC2T0C9UhVJq0qw1msGn_ODpgrT2LIVuLNVYH5xTL0yY5A0G9XXAYYUEGT8VjoLmsvabEqT5ppxE9sDfyatlr_kmJmkm6n_-13bhsoPvBdtsWtZxLjhTg/s16000/fb_tinkersChild.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Tinker's Child - acrylic on canvas, 36 cm x 46 cm</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>Last night was the opening of the inaugural dAda mUse Surrealist Art Prize exhibition, and <i>Tinker's Child</i> won first prize.</p><p>dAda mUse is a new gallery housed in a nicely restored heritage building in Launceston. It has on permanent display Australia's largest collection of works on paper by Salvador Dali, and actively promotes community interest in the arts, especially surrealism. This is an acquisitive award so she will be hanging up there in the gallery among the Dali works. Chuffed? You bet!</p><p>The finalists exhibition can be seen at dAda mUse, 121 Cimitiere St, Launceston (the 1842 Johnstone and Wilmot building) until Sunday, 17 December 2023.</p><p><br /></p><p>Update 18 Dec 2023: Stephanie Burbury, of the Oatlands History Room, kindly sent me this photograph of old Mother Brown, a.k.a. Mrs Tin-eye Brown, who inspired this painting</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIRvTwOic7UW7Yh0Ga-MwS1V1LII5TmjYtdBzW0yjCdZS0Ll2eVeu7ovxsh02Gd8G4q1tfln09qHB15VX0XrcAXOwf6U27eVe5_rQjsQjQ62tm3nri2w6ZWvwWh4lylFk3Ypu4tEN0z5BZ6Zi2bMVmAWxLK3ey6yAwQb1_IlAGOVMgPyuURuIJ20RCRg/s798/Mrs%20Tin-eye%20Brown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="798" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIRvTwOic7UW7Yh0Ga-MwS1V1LII5TmjYtdBzW0yjCdZS0Ll2eVeu7ovxsh02Gd8G4q1tfln09qHB15VX0XrcAXOwf6U27eVe5_rQjsQjQ62tm3nri2w6ZWvwWh4lylFk3Ypu4tEN0z5BZ6Zi2bMVmAWxLK3ey6yAwQb1_IlAGOVMgPyuURuIJ20RCRg/s320/Mrs%20Tin-eye%20Brown.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Community History Museum, 121 Cimitiere St, Launceston TAS 7250, Australia-41.4348819 147.1372652-67.511896861100539 111.9810152 -15.357866938899466 -177.7064848tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-5300738217154349692023-11-03T22:18:00.016+11:002023-11-03T22:42:35.905+11:00Why I painted the Yellow Vase<p>One of the questions I am most frequently asked is “where do you
get your ideas?” This is not always easy to answer as there are so
many reasons to make a painting. Sometimes I hear a chance phrase in
a conversation or on the radio that sounds like a good title. Other
times I decide, for whatever reason, that I’d really like to paint
a specific subject. And sometimes I have a blank canvas – and a
mind to match. </p><p>When that happens, I remember the advice I used to
give my painting students: “Look out the window”. This was one of
those occasions. Here is the view from my studio window. I should have washed the window before I took the photo.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkEDgPD4u-R4u86RqSCq-lJlXkGqx5PpsXPih-XIS3EvyylRL5TXxLz86Cupz6dFqlCoozyBcoPpGkPfx6Vs9mw7DnaKQmx9z_uIpq9e3v4buycpLntQ0R16hrHDjZKLreWfXE_M2So1gVkYy2oVqeen2K3U8Yp9Iatzwc8WSy3vVtIUj5K7Z-KWDCHo/s600/IMG_0793_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkEDgPD4u-R4u86RqSCq-lJlXkGqx5PpsXPih-XIS3EvyylRL5TXxLz86Cupz6dFqlCoozyBcoPpGkPfx6Vs9mw7DnaKQmx9z_uIpq9e3v4buycpLntQ0R16hrHDjZKLreWfXE_M2So1gVkYy2oVqeen2K3U8Yp9Iatzwc8WSy3vVtIUj5K7Z-KWDCHo/s16000/IMG_0793_cropped.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>My father used to hoard stuff; there is a lot more of it lying around than is obvious here.</i> </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I began blocking out
a design, and once I started putting paint on canvas ideas began to
form.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghW8fesyjp6wKE9HSDRpTX6nKKjUGIxyEZzwitRYinjcjuYfPOJ-4_Kkirq1cObmPQdVG6uW4lcnDEnfzCDZpjA50ne417stIPX4lI-LUTjmets9BbMR9ohfxwS3hY-MV4SxZJYL9Omc6iQIiVgcrF_eV_rOR597LahD8WI9i3KMocacwJu0GR3sN7cqY/s585/IMG_0792_cropped.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="585" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghW8fesyjp6wKE9HSDRpTX6nKKjUGIxyEZzwitRYinjcjuYfPOJ-4_Kkirq1cObmPQdVG6uW4lcnDEnfzCDZpjA50ne417stIPX4lI-LUTjmets9BbMR9ohfxwS3hY-MV4SxZJYL9Omc6iQIiVgcrF_eV_rOR597LahD8WI9i3KMocacwJu0GR3sN7cqY/s16000/IMG_0792_cropped.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I decided I wanted a sense of space and distance and I needed some figures. The blue thing on top of the pile of rusting junk is an
industrial-size light shade from some long-forgotten factory, so a
slightly differently shaped light shade and a splash of blue got into
the picture. Some bright yellow was needed to provide a point of contrast, then it was a case of adjusting shapes and
colours until I was happy with the way they worked together. And
quite a long time later this was the result.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjlvT-swJVeK5cE8_a0hrgCODXMDjqoq3FJxQ3py_fuAQ6MCY8G3TQ9rbj5nGCc_pOiANyFsMdP-egNXnVKjJBOISKfisWZpH8fBN0KcZEJFBugCVfy7k_AXevmbKr5DEqYWRClpXxA_QGcMjwI1_gnq7fewlqnSES-2Vkm0Cplr6WQ7zkZ5wsjtfZvc/s600/fb_yellowVase.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjlvT-swJVeK5cE8_a0hrgCODXMDjqoq3FJxQ3py_fuAQ6MCY8G3TQ9rbj5nGCc_pOiANyFsMdP-egNXnVKjJBOISKfisWZpH8fBN0KcZEJFBugCVfy7k_AXevmbKr5DEqYWRClpXxA_QGcMjwI1_gnq7fewlqnSES-2Vkm0Cplr6WQ7zkZ5wsjtfZvc/s16000/fb_yellowVase.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow Vase <span style="font-size: x-small;">oil on canvas 84 cm x 84 cm completed 20 October 2023</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p>This afternoon I
delivered it to Nolan Art Gallery in the Salamanca Arts Centre, where
you can see it for the next month or so.</p>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Hobart TAS 7000, Australia-42.8826055 147.3257196-71.192839336178849 112.16946960000001 -14.572371663821151 -177.5180304tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-3094114339469393702023-11-01T00:44:00.013+11:002023-11-01T20:01:37.366+11:00A HALLOWEEN TALE<p> </p><p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The Devil's head rests on a riverbank rock.</p>
<p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">A precipitous path winds down the face of honeycombed cliffs. Unseen marsupials and mysterious serpents have left tracks in the sand where flesh-eating beasts retire to their lairs. Cockatoos the colour of death perch in dry branches. Through a break in the forest canopy far below you catch a glimpse of water. </p><p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The rock wall to your left is eroded and crumbling. For millennia onslaughts of water and wind have weathered the soft, golden sandstone into extravagant caverns and hollows, creating a fantastic place of wonder. Shapes shift with the shadows, becoming faces, giant figures, impossible animals. </p><p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqdNerdvejTtTYr1R-xrJCVk7hVhQHwr202H85xdJX2a3YbVehB_LI_6D3A56XQNminGDwbKbuPdwUwjgd0HzhTXQG4GpzX8owieMfHk-K8aar2VMP5ifcXuSwRNM2B1eEZKsDeQuERwsN4zdZabUTpHC2kwUsrcM7COYApALySc2CXF0LbR__6dW9B4/s600/fb_natureWalk.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqdNerdvejTtTYr1R-xrJCVk7hVhQHwr202H85xdJX2a3YbVehB_LI_6D3A56XQNminGDwbKbuPdwUwjgd0HzhTXQG4GpzX8owieMfHk-K8aar2VMP5ifcXuSwRNM2B1eEZKsDeQuERwsN4zdZabUTpHC2kwUsrcM7COYApALySc2CXF0LbR__6dW9B4/s16000/fb_natureWalk.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nature Walk - oil on canvas 91 cm x 122 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="line-height: 18.4px; margin-bottom: 0cm;">When you reach the valley floor it is cool and dark, a tangle of moss-covered boulders, fallen trees, hip-high ferns and trailing lichen, rotting logs, earth-stars and unfamiliar fungi. This is the Bluff River Gorge. Supernatural creatures, spirits of tree and river and rock, haunt this place.</p>
<p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I laid out my canvas on All
Hallows Eve, when ancient beings emerge to commune with the
owls and microbats and Tasmanian devils, and painted a picture of
what I may have seen.</p>
<p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And the Devil's head? I found the
little polished ivory skull once as I was crossing the river. After
admiring it, I placed it back among the rocks in its bed of soft
green moss. On my next visit, months later, skull and moss were gone,
washed away in the winter floods.</p><p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>*High quality limited edition prints of this painting may be ordered from Nolan Art Gallery, Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart </i><a href=" https://www.nolanart.com.au/" target="_blank"> https://www.nolanart.com.au/</a></span></p>
<p lang="zxx" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Buckland TAS 7190, Australia-42.6067177 147.7181599-70.916951536178843 112.56190989999999 -14.296483863821152 -177.1255901tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-50614724404520125772022-11-05T01:53:00.001+11:002022-11-05T01:55:07.882+11:00WHALES AND ORCHIDS<p> Recently I posted a photo of the first stages of a new painting on Facebook, and several people asked me to show them the step-by-step process from there to a finished painting. This was a bit of a challenge, as I am usually reluctant to show people work in progress, but I agreed. Here is the history of a painting, in ten steps.</p><h3 style="text-align: left;">Beginning</h3><p>I wanted to practise painting rocks, so hiked in to Handsome Cave to get some ideas and inspiration.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprG9aqgPOgT3Io7gjsBBy_E8EmIBc5au4UzL3ycv_yOqNHpC0gPo4IOYBSZUz9NLcRlJJtoVRnr_816jbighCvK0W5YEiwHkOd6BLCbt3YMdHJAfqtzDbySwEPX5H0HXy5WAB8pa7UbJgFJCYMrRb2kdcdlS_lV8VH75iSUcYPwKQuGsqqmAx1cNq/s2048/HandsomeCave_1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprG9aqgPOgT3Io7gjsBBy_E8EmIBc5au4UzL3ycv_yOqNHpC0gPo4IOYBSZUz9NLcRlJJtoVRnr_816jbighCvK0W5YEiwHkOd6BLCbt3YMdHJAfqtzDbySwEPX5H0HXy5WAB8pa7UbJgFJCYMrRb2kdcdlS_lV8VH75iSUcYPwKQuGsqqmAx1cNq/w640-h480/HandsomeCave_1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cGRV5A2xxKD07IBs70qvBKaK0HUnMMEvgPdTEOt0rgK-DnU4435tverAcnKI8NZDYEoHdB32YFpkPJeloI0gIBh0BOOpimbgpukx6n_6aP4algg_qv_enNbn94Q_NkbuD28Dvf3F6T9Jso8prRLMpF235CaO-BLG1shUIh1j5ED1CBOCLT_rsjQG/s2048/HandsomeCave2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cGRV5A2xxKD07IBs70qvBKaK0HUnMMEvgPdTEOt0rgK-DnU4435tverAcnKI8NZDYEoHdB32YFpkPJeloI0gIBh0BOOpimbgpukx6n_6aP4algg_qv_enNbn94Q_NkbuD28Dvf3F6T9Jso8prRLMpF235CaO-BLG1shUIh1j5ED1CBOCLT_rsjQG/w480-h640/HandsomeCave2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p>I spent about an hour sitting and studying these rock formations while I ate my lunch, and by the time I had reached my car for the drive home had a very clear visual image of the shape I wanted for a new painting.</p><p>Here it is the beginning; some basic shapes on which I could build - something!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8P8MmfiU5_7Hg-knIWZwFpAaRZS0Z09bOnqxWzBSuYrBeSneX7W27T3jTykQbwyr91dRjDwGk4zLLJfhkNDDnb2iGbza3sl1EAq0XxVoDkdAG1D30e79E9jxM-ZyBFgtppIvLHzcKSYwaXdxv3GteZuqFwuz8gbVcLbaMUWF5uLn7nUs0WMRXVNpB/s600/b_painting001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="600" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8P8MmfiU5_7Hg-knIWZwFpAaRZS0Z09bOnqxWzBSuYrBeSneX7W27T3jTykQbwyr91dRjDwGk4zLLJfhkNDDnb2iGbza3sl1EAq0XxVoDkdAG1D30e79E9jxM-ZyBFgtppIvLHzcKSYwaXdxv3GteZuqFwuz8gbVcLbaMUWF5uLn7nUs0WMRXVNpB/w640-h440/b_painting001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Some more work, adding colours where the design suggested. I'm not thinking about objects at this stage, just putting down a pattern of colours and shapes</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31vapxmfjOWQtg7zO7UJcBMwnTp9IWYFIVr1pm6wNWrcTmU0TgBccB9PBELwJHJ5zxw_VK99CByKBH-qXerighGCBBeScsJeJk42M-yM4D9AVG4xrutI1eSSyACG7yqfaPR5PwNM_AFgA0k7WuEq8cOXIh1jxETkC9mhTNy1XzLUVw_76sCyzzLwq/s600/b_painting002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="600" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31vapxmfjOWQtg7zO7UJcBMwnTp9IWYFIVr1pm6wNWrcTmU0TgBccB9PBELwJHJ5zxw_VK99CByKBH-qXerighGCBBeScsJeJk42M-yM4D9AVG4xrutI1eSSyACG7yqfaPR5PwNM_AFgA0k7WuEq8cOXIh1jxETkC9mhTNy1XzLUVw_76sCyzzLwq/w640-h444/b_painting002.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: left;">Finding objects</h3><p>Two new words: pareidolia and mimetolithic. The first is the human propensity to find patterns in random shapes, for example, pictures in the clouds. Mimetolithic patterns are formed by weathered, broken and eroded rocks whose shapes lend themselves to this by suggesting interesting things. </p><p>In nature, we most frequently find faces. If you look the right way at the photographs I took at Handsome Cave you might find some.</p><p>Pareidolia comes into play at this stage of painting, when I look at what I have on the canvas and begin to find patterns and shapes that I can emphasise and develop. Like this.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulk47sVg96ihpB-pacTf82M0JOaKUWOC8MokSxxNkXPwc2H-DcxzKrrC0s-mv95gMuY8Aefij5EUiyLf7HEr0LNo-F7jxHKLA8ltszvAE6kQuVJQDYnKpRza4ru1eSte_j0aPdoYfRBuSyJmy2y1tDxj24pBZQ6dnzeRp92U8bkJ5CVCR9XUwzCKy/s600/b_painting003.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="600" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulk47sVg96ihpB-pacTf82M0JOaKUWOC8MokSxxNkXPwc2H-DcxzKrrC0s-mv95gMuY8Aefij5EUiyLf7HEr0LNo-F7jxHKLA8ltszvAE6kQuVJQDYnKpRza4ru1eSte_j0aPdoYfRBuSyJmy2y1tDxj24pBZQ6dnzeRp92U8bkJ5CVCR9XUwzCKy/w640-h442/b_painting003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;">Adding more stuff</h3><p>A landscape is beginning to appear, and it needs figures in it. This is not some arcane aesthetic decree; it's just the way I like to paint. Off I go to rummage in my toybox for a suitable doll to use as a model, and that's when I find out what the painting will be about. </p><p>There are always half-formed notions lurking in corners waiting to be discovered, and every so often two or three fuse into an interesting idea. This happens now. Along with a couple of useful dolls I find a yellow plastic whale. Recently somebody returning from their holiday remarked they saw lots of "flowering orchids and whales". Jokes were made (mostly by me) about flowering whales and somebody else suggested that might be a suitable subject for a painting. So this happens.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9uVJ6oWM-1KJdj6AkVrBKxvZEln1-cFofJJoQf65l04QzlNESjS7aNmhWCMjvJkPX_0EclerIQqRf05ZLgSMKMYsYbsecwA_FpCGD3lKpg1OroUs83eJP2ZPz8D81ByZy75Rku3pYSm6RiZt3ZjFYxmGYgu6cqG4OMxxnF-imhFOCxTfZ_Y2xbPm4/s600/b_painting004.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="600" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9uVJ6oWM-1KJdj6AkVrBKxvZEln1-cFofJJoQf65l04QzlNESjS7aNmhWCMjvJkPX_0EclerIQqRf05ZLgSMKMYsYbsecwA_FpCGD3lKpg1OroUs83eJP2ZPz8D81ByZy75Rku3pYSm6RiZt3ZjFYxmGYgu6cqG4OMxxnF-imhFOCxTfZ_Y2xbPm4/w640-h450/b_painting004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Now I have to construct the picture around it. The whale turns into a rock formation and I sketch in a cluster of rock orchids growing from it. A second figure balances the composition, but then the egg-shape at the top looks odd. I quite liked it, but it has to go. Similarly, the green bushes on the left were only intended as a "placeholder" until I decide what would finally fill the spot. In fact, I'm not sure what to put in a lot of places.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9y7TtthGs0IQ77ZbVd9xv-edTA-2O6jitIO97gQnBJehJJk57lj6bpXzFXi_u-uSHBjU7YkB6Yis99tsILi4FHHv6O5s5Jh4drRVmQ_xSbVHfu3qlyYJMNLWjiHuy7dBNd2PvYqnvBDZVMgCCh6jc0GUAO_rkEzk0wHnrr_ifirqBMWWNalYlteYx/s600/b_painting005.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="600" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9y7TtthGs0IQ77ZbVd9xv-edTA-2O6jitIO97gQnBJehJJk57lj6bpXzFXi_u-uSHBjU7YkB6Yis99tsILi4FHHv6O5s5Jh4drRVmQ_xSbVHfu3qlyYJMNLWjiHuy7dBNd2PvYqnvBDZVMgCCh6jc0GUAO_rkEzk0wHnrr_ifirqBMWWNalYlteYx/w640-h448/b_painting005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0rTwcIulf7A8iSYMjvHOpQ61q6mGRuf1UFzr3xghQANZseOC4DzevMtSfLsebblxtDrJtHZnLr04GQMfO8eqC7LYYnpjxSDelnzRxwlIYpeGHIQzBAGB8nS7Kcf1cCKytSyuaPslxcE6bAMsVbKeXlgwu0Rwu33YHRhb8DF6M7W_WAgsyeTk3-bw/s600/b_painting006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="600" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0rTwcIulf7A8iSYMjvHOpQ61q6mGRuf1UFzr3xghQANZseOC4DzevMtSfLsebblxtDrJtHZnLr04GQMfO8eqC7LYYnpjxSDelnzRxwlIYpeGHIQzBAGB8nS7Kcf1cCKytSyuaPslxcE6bAMsVbKeXlgwu0Rwu33YHRhb8DF6M7W_WAgsyeTk3-bw/w640-h456/b_painting006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: left;">Homework</h3><p>At this point things get serious. I spend three days reading about Tasmanian orchids and drawing diagrams of them, while sketching ideas that might or might not solve the problems. Then back into the studio. None of the ideas for the left hand side work so I end up with something completely different, but the rest of the plans look good.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBYTUAWt_ZjRQcrlJT8dzJjUJ7hcBuBFNYwssS4yTyiCJUuq2jLVh9tvZsLPadniXNakLMC2CF0YYdYc12trPEy4dyH33ITYDXuuVUgFR0bmtgWh46-aSeiMO8xznlf13-N7IfkdWu7w1UJaioZ7WHZ9RCt_VQpb-KxvePi9GNe7Gm3kQPqJPAtdA/s600/b_painting007.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="600" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBYTUAWt_ZjRQcrlJT8dzJjUJ7hcBuBFNYwssS4yTyiCJUuq2jLVh9tvZsLPadniXNakLMC2CF0YYdYc12trPEy4dyH33ITYDXuuVUgFR0bmtgWh46-aSeiMO8xznlf13-N7IfkdWu7w1UJaioZ7WHZ9RCt_VQpb-KxvePi9GNe7Gm3kQPqJPAtdA/w640-h456/b_painting007.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>After that, it is just a matter of putting everything in place then fine-tuning and adjusting details until I've absolutely had enough of it. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdJikJcvXs7t2qma2wLrzfscHIyxT1_ncg2W3O76vq9E4H8jS9WSFPLvVkXvqPtedBIx3epb_ve6_1T_ZHsa89fqZhm8cqsK1BMn9y3Zf_KLhzhWOd-jIecXdOcrPMOh_ZUsWGNIEGldmak3GECfTebCFOMBx5TQNqJXieQoij-cPcXHd8JKi6uyZ/s600/b_painting008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="600" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdJikJcvXs7t2qma2wLrzfscHIyxT1_ncg2W3O76vq9E4H8jS9WSFPLvVkXvqPtedBIx3epb_ve6_1T_ZHsa89fqZhm8cqsK1BMn9y3Zf_KLhzhWOd-jIecXdOcrPMOh_ZUsWGNIEGldmak3GECfTebCFOMBx5TQNqJXieQoij-cPcXHd8JKi6uyZ/w640-h450/b_painting008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBLzZV42t2oi6irSWtV89wc1NM30wrYSfxvo0ji_5hPyLTr48aq6JqYxd1Yac3H0RSad2uYqBWN8JDC_m1NbhuyW0gCkUxF-xvHO84smGl-J2RbbGwh69-sd51FaQu32L7Qz6Oaus9cNaHGobsMrxlz7ZzFaM9PhZrh3m35lFMX_rCyBIeY2d3upy/s600/b_painting009.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="600" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBLzZV42t2oi6irSWtV89wc1NM30wrYSfxvo0ji_5hPyLTr48aq6JqYxd1Yac3H0RSad2uYqBWN8JDC_m1NbhuyW0gCkUxF-xvHO84smGl-J2RbbGwh69-sd51FaQu32L7Qz6Oaus9cNaHGobsMrxlz7ZzFaM9PhZrh3m35lFMX_rCyBIeY2d3upy/w640-h450/b_painting009.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><h3 style="text-align: left;">The Big Finish</h3><p>This is the result. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3kmfN_1tk-Lpy6Qk2gB482EypA0wmlIKjcdoo9jeMWLq9Z-UmHVzepU276p5zOlA-qh12gUEYxCiRWDMvrdfsbGTKzaSfYluLWEYglLzvPb044KHaiDO8McWvaIq7gwqBTlnbTfoOWZQYuY-5U1QxWhUXLU-FVPhI6xzPKYgdjZbVIzz_ojNoXLj/s600/fb_orchidsAndWhales.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="600" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3kmfN_1tk-Lpy6Qk2gB482EypA0wmlIKjcdoo9jeMWLq9Z-UmHVzepU276p5zOlA-qh12gUEYxCiRWDMvrdfsbGTKzaSfYluLWEYglLzvPb044KHaiDO8McWvaIq7gwqBTlnbTfoOWZQYuY-5U1QxWhUXLU-FVPhI6xzPKYgdjZbVIzz_ojNoXLj/w640-h434/fb_orchidsAndWhales.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Whales and Orchids, oil on canvas, 61 cm x 91 cm</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-7887680924568562492022-09-29T14:10:00.001+10:002022-09-29T14:10:33.747+10:00FLOCK an exhibition about animals<i><span style="font-size: medium;">FLOCK</span></i> is a joint exhibition of painting, sculpture and ceramics by Elizabeth Barsham, Betty Nolan and Rebecca Watson, three artists who love animals, opening on Friday 7th October, 2022 at Nolan Gallery, Level 1, Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart. <div><br /></div><div> Animals, or animal-like figures, frequently appear in my work, but I seldom paint pictures specifically about animals. </div><div><br /></div><div>When invited to exhibit in this show I was busy painting rocks and exploring industrial archaeology, but I did a painting of a unicorn especially. Then I managed to insert some teddy bears, sea monsters, birds, odd zoomorphic creatures and a stuffed elephant into the other pieces I was doing. </div><div><br /></div><div> Here are the eight paintings I have finished. I'm working on another one with a wombat in it, but might not have it ready in time, so don't hold your breath. I'm sorry if you were expecting puppies and kittens.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFklB9ee7p97Ps2d6E8wcNnWvW9_eJEo6cgzEwQ1LowV-6cqdFGumwY5OPeIBauuZkfX2cgx303fjrS0YfafYRKIsJU3ElyHZRZGDjt_x47vWvU3nZc_WRo1NAJdO0W5FzVWWoTups2PvesD06wCOYLfveDEYckmms6n1Ke7Y6wg3IaqcrMsvHBJb/s600/fb_WaitingForInstructions.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFklB9ee7p97Ps2d6E8wcNnWvW9_eJEo6cgzEwQ1LowV-6cqdFGumwY5OPeIBauuZkfX2cgx303fjrS0YfafYRKIsJU3ElyHZRZGDjt_x47vWvU3nZc_WRo1NAJdO0W5FzVWWoTups2PvesD06wCOYLfveDEYckmms6n1Ke7Y6wg3IaqcrMsvHBJb/s400/fb_WaitingForInstructions.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for Instructions 61 cm x 91 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
At the beginning of this year things seemed confusing and uncertain, what with a lingering pandemic, threats of war, family issues and all the other stuff that was going on. I rather wished there were some wise person who could tell us all what to do next. I feel this way at the beginning of most years and as usual there didn't seem to be any divine guidance forthcoming, so I did a painting instead.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RzV8tNhI0-W9E5kjUwFwiXWc4EOXql6QDZExV6xodsOF1JfnY7JCVlayADfmzYFi5mZX74KekEU8BUbaP5k0crBMeIZ4_c7bjKpLEmmanwNqNt3Tr8X1Ny-cAemDeo4enpJw619ZKM-tldWZk9T0x37GoS7l1s6LdwjRhvPEKzJhqxMIsgsFCb_c/s600/fb_ChildhoodDream.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="490" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RzV8tNhI0-W9E5kjUwFwiXWc4EOXql6QDZExV6xodsOF1JfnY7JCVlayADfmzYFi5mZX74KekEU8BUbaP5k0crBMeIZ4_c7bjKpLEmmanwNqNt3Tr8X1Ny-cAemDeo4enpJw619ZKM-tldWZk9T0x37GoS7l1s6LdwjRhvPEKzJhqxMIsgsFCb_c/s400/fb_ChildhoodDream.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Childhood Dream 82 cm x 66 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
An adventure in ambiguous architecture. Toys for young and old and an infinite city.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuX2c7NPZyv6ZOShjDtYgYEdQaKLcpoGT9jMz9z_KseQoP5Abv06MY96_8Dje1-Z7W8o9DCokuM6YFugZJzRAjR9nWd77NulYJXduRjfE7A8N5S1BUuHVm-KB9aRVYF83orLWXXfhAfFhSbkF4-p57BK7juLINDBT0dKOf8wa8BlOTVEEMkQXeXIMK/s600/fb_SerenadingAUnicorn.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuX2c7NPZyv6ZOShjDtYgYEdQaKLcpoGT9jMz9z_KseQoP5Abv06MY96_8Dje1-Z7W8o9DCokuM6YFugZJzRAjR9nWd77NulYJXduRjfE7A8N5S1BUuHVm-KB9aRVYF83orLWXXfhAfFhSbkF4-p57BK7juLINDBT0dKOf8wa8BlOTVEEMkQXeXIMK/s400/fb_SerenadingAUnicorn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serenading a Unicorn 61 cm x 76 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
Betty Nolan has been making gorgeous ceramic horses, and some of them turned into unicorns. I like unicorns, so I painted a few of my own. The Lady in whose lap the Unicorn should be resting its head has been upstaged by a crowd of unruly "musicians". She's not quite sure what to do about it.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydAs-57jUNXJqgVri16S-FUivg1Keahi0kgBumaZ2ZTsKzMqF0Y18elwX6Nbi0aWEK1TFfHRcow7FIki1hB_xFxZhcVLM8s-v8axAUbpqDkswNu4hJLN-lYDmgh6eo-0AwW8TPNM-9FTNEQbzaX6jyOp7q3YzhbH30iJXNQci-JlCPYNbatlZtIXj/s600/fb_NestingSeason.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydAs-57jUNXJqgVri16S-FUivg1Keahi0kgBumaZ2ZTsKzMqF0Y18elwX6Nbi0aWEK1TFfHRcow7FIki1hB_xFxZhcVLM8s-v8axAUbpqDkswNu4hJLN-lYDmgh6eo-0AwW8TPNM-9FTNEQbzaX6jyOp7q3YzhbH30iJXNQci-JlCPYNbatlZtIXj/s400/fb_NestingSeason.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nesting Season 61 cm x 46 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
There are striated pardelotes nesting under the roof of my studio, as happens about this time every year. It's a rowdy business building nests and raising chicks and they make a lot of noise. Meanwhile, fairy wrens are building their nests in the next-door shed where chicken wire across all the openings ensures they are safe from larger birds. I am not lonely!
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgral-7wUOAFXeCZBilUIUOkHKxkZWLVqjkMLvsGFfi3X8YoiQ6GEwNwewL-c56KppXgrScjNIpIbcdVpi26JhmcGeZhfKZzMpZ4w_V6YuxYL19h7S425h5WLu1q6Lqsh22K93qytlEpdwLjFglrGu5C85WIFuv_osmoLTHQ19zd4mGznVtYpsCubHi/s600/fb_LittleFriends.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgral-7wUOAFXeCZBilUIUOkHKxkZWLVqjkMLvsGFfi3X8YoiQ6GEwNwewL-c56KppXgrScjNIpIbcdVpi26JhmcGeZhfKZzMpZ4w_V6YuxYL19h7S425h5WLu1q6Lqsh22K93qytlEpdwLjFglrGu5C85WIFuv_osmoLTHQ19zd4mGznVtYpsCubHi/s400/fb_LittleFriends.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Friends 30 cm x 61 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
A happy little dream image, which may be the precursor to a larger painting. Meanwhile, think lollypops and sugar.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Io1tNlvGoBQBxv0FltoNhNG6TiUZs0GsuZF9jfh6fxs0EbcIcZVKnzJ62BELZXLnO85-CGWWFmx-zjaqsnhpFfos2ifcKox8EsYGvUHsHZVR-F8-PmJ7v_10IVq082uAegLWzKNLjtuWRZqMCJGTTOdcvC1bGOMFyR1X6KLDkb7nEL_QS7HiSNlI/s600/fb_HuntingTheWildAgapanthus.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Io1tNlvGoBQBxv0FltoNhNG6TiUZs0GsuZF9jfh6fxs0EbcIcZVKnzJ62BELZXLnO85-CGWWFmx-zjaqsnhpFfos2ifcKox8EsYGvUHsHZVR-F8-PmJ7v_10IVq082uAegLWzKNLjtuWRZqMCJGTTOdcvC1bGOMFyR1X6KLDkb7nEL_QS7HiSNlI/s400/fb_HuntingTheWildAgapanthus.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hunting the Wild Agapanthus 84 cm x 91 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
Agapanthus grow everywhere around my studio. I believe they are classed as weeds, and I would prefer native plants. But I enjoyed painting the flowers.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoffk-PXGsqT9Lqq9vIwGq7o99XNPUheXJgRdF7xUHGooYKKUt6AvkK5Af88tSzxO9T_LcNc3HLySukQZG_WtBCe6bewD2_7Ioo4CxXTpfFZ13wOZn3BiM5n4-4EZZuPT_LcXysm0K7ep7tq5RO7Y9fRqyqZCxsSUD941x3cr9v-Kzld1w38IKqgU/s600/fb_ConversationWithAPinkElephant.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="468" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoffk-PXGsqT9Lqq9vIwGq7o99XNPUheXJgRdF7xUHGooYKKUt6AvkK5Af88tSzxO9T_LcNc3HLySukQZG_WtBCe6bewD2_7Ioo4CxXTpfFZ13wOZn3BiM5n4-4EZZuPT_LcXysm0K7ep7tq5RO7Y9fRqyqZCxsSUD941x3cr9v-Kzld1w38IKqgU/s400/fb_ConversationWithAPinkElephant.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conversation with a Pink Elephant 45 cm x 35 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
A still-life study I did as a painting exercise. What more can I say?
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_QH9yga60U8DGmyjlaU-_eR7rE845ofJkUCQpPP4Evo2b1dJ5iOjxU9IRArVLhQw13sFOmCTio7LEbLQ_THdipDoEcEZpAdKm1PVaJQMVzo_DlSfxhFnZIConcdL4F32YhddVqbqtzWjRv-xLzMInhI8mq-YYKHCmwlsPbf5YBKiXKWA2BIUPKIB/s600/fb_BabyKraken.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_QH9yga60U8DGmyjlaU-_eR7rE845ofJkUCQpPP4Evo2b1dJ5iOjxU9IRArVLhQw13sFOmCTio7LEbLQ_THdipDoEcEZpAdKm1PVaJQMVzo_DlSfxhFnZIConcdL4F32YhddVqbqtzWjRv-xLzMInhI8mq-YYKHCmwlsPbf5YBKiXKWA2BIUPKIB/s400/fb_BabyKraken.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Kraken 45 cm x 61 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
I found a rather boring picture painted about ten years ago abandoned in the back of my store-room. Added the Kraken, a definite improvement. Probably my favourite painting of all of these.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">All these paintings are in oil on stretched canvas. If you are interested in any of them, contact Betty Nolan at
Nolan Gallery, Space 109, Salamanca Arts Centre, 77 Salamanca Place, Hobart </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Phone: (03) 6223 3449 Mobile: 0438 446 785 </span></div><div><span style="color: #0000ee; font-family: arial;"><u><a href="https://www.nolanart.com.au/portfolio-items/elizabeth-barsham/?portfolioCats=21">https://www.nolanart.com.au/</a></u></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Gallery hours: Mon - Fri 10 am - 6 pm; Sat 10 am - 4 pm; Sun 12 pm - 4 pm
</span></div>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Salamanca Place, Hobart TAS, Australia-43.2533903 146.7133436-49.708669810745008 137.9242811 -36.798110789254991 155.5024061tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-5639396576063614152022-08-06T20:47:00.003+10:002022-08-06T20:51:32.993+10:00<h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: 400;"><i>Pink Flowers</i></span></h1><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal;">a recent painting, now off to its new owner</span></h3><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.3cm;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
When you venture into a Tasmanian forest you discover an intricacy of
fungi, fern, lichen and moss, of strange little spiders, grubs and
insects, of creatures avian and amphibious. Pause and watch them
living their complicated lives around rocks, rivulets and rotting
wood in an intriguing, interconnected wonderland. So much to keep you
fascinated!</span></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.3cm;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnjVjgHG2dt8lejqVH8vH2tJawNTnd6jyTqLV4rlZdSivm_srUuAZUm0fE1yZvI5N1nF8gGbkElNsNNFi2CRolWdD5JpAgRFUKUR4guS5NlH8iR2xh_3Vdb5_MESaW696w5N-LyHFSKyjRv-4GBkIZaDaPpDFQM80bcUsmQ5KuObdHIL5ZLe_I2Du/s600/pinkFlowers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="600" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnjVjgHG2dt8lejqVH8vH2tJawNTnd6jyTqLV4rlZdSivm_srUuAZUm0fE1yZvI5N1nF8gGbkElNsNNFi2CRolWdD5JpAgRFUKUR4guS5NlH8iR2xh_3Vdb5_MESaW696w5N-LyHFSKyjRv-4GBkIZaDaPpDFQM80bcUsmQ5KuObdHIL5ZLe_I2Du/w640-h554/pinkFlowers.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; text-align: start; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pink Flowers oil on canvas, 84 cm x 97 cm</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is one of
many paintings celebrating the intersection between flora and fauna
in which I begin by painting some big, basic shapes to establish a
pictorial scaffold. Then I grow the details over it, like buds
opening on winter branches, green moss cushioning a delicate bone,
the patterns of weathered rocks, networks of lichen lace draped over
naked twigs; all these natural shapes begin to furnish and inhabit
the space. Before long, they take on a life of their own and become a
fantasy landscape, lush in colour, an improbable biology of
anthropomorphic beasts and peripatetic vegetation.</span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.3cm;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The line
</span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.3cm;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>When fishes
flew, and forests walked, and figs grew upon thorn</i> . . .
</span></p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.3cm;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">repeated again and
again in my head while I painted <i>Pink Flowers </i>and
might go some way to explain it. I’m sorry about the
unimaginative title, but I did put a bit of creativity into making
the picture.</span></p></div>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-25216301617760850722021-10-28T22:18:00.003+11:002021-11-12T01:12:51.876+11:00Off to Exploit the Antipodes<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;">In 1811 Governor Lachlan Macquarie, his wife Elizabeth and a sizeable entourage travelled from Hobart Town to Port Dalrymple on horseback. As Macquarie rode through the country he claimed the land by naming places after himself, his wife and his mates, erasing the ancient names used by people who already lived there. Here he is, leaving his official mark all over the landscape which, in this painting, is loosely based on the route of the old bush road through an area locally known today as Murderers Gully.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="600" height="503" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUN5JlT6o1WzUMHJBJ2xgoOpX6ArpnPZthfl1YtGTNhhrF0RagO23gLARsPaFEumtLGDIYerlxHZmcjdkj0lTER4N7_vQP1BNfRqTKWuOVLvYv9hFPZtKy_H7DK9rF0Rxzsq4B2JI2AM0/w640-h503/fb_theGovernorRidesBy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Governor Rides By 61 cm x 77 cm</td></tr></tbody></table>
<div>These paintings are about the colonial takeover of Trouwunna, as seen from a safe distance. </div><div><br /></div><div>They were first exhibited in <i>Understory,</i> an exhibition at Nolan Art Gallery in Salamanca Place, Hobart, in November 2021.</div><div><br /></div><div>Throughout my life the narrative of Tasmania’s indigenous people has been told and retold, changing from a tale of the regrettable annihilation of a “dying race” (neatly culminating in the death of the “last Tasmanian”), to the reclamation of cultural identity by the Palawa. As the descendant of convicts who arrived in the first British ships, I realise many of my ancestors were complicit in the colonial genocide. The question is how to deal with this knowledge.</div><div><br /></div><div>As usual when confronted by something too complicated, I retreated to my studio to explore the issue in paint.</div><div><br /></div><div>The result is a series of large, complex images intended to intrigue and disturb viewers. The playful beauty of these oil paintings, with their humorous characters and seductive colour doesn’t quite obscure the darkness and violence of the subject matter. Expect anthropomorphic forests infested by inchoate, chthonic figures and strange encounters with the all too present inhabitants of “Terra Nullius” as the colonisers set about the business of exploiting the antipodes.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EFXHbAUdwyEHthcDRp9py_6Zmx5j14VpU1-I7GQWthoCAASpgZhuqfxQyivvCvbVw1_b28CT3Y8y7srWiGkzH2vxjNQe7pr4INrvWTTU8Q1K8oSwPnTkQRilqPTZRkWM1l0ub1a8F5A/s300/hobbit_small.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="300" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EFXHbAUdwyEHthcDRp9py_6Zmx5j14VpU1-I7GQWthoCAASpgZhuqfxQyivvCvbVw1_b28CT3Y8y7srWiGkzH2vxjNQe7pr4INrvWTTU8Q1K8oSwPnTkQRilqPTZRkWM1l0ub1a8F5A/w200-h147/hobbit_small.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>
<div>According to various history books, Tasmania was discovered on the 24th November, 1642, by Commodore Abel Jansz Tasman.</div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9i2oBBJqoINQEdiqjQYqWPZhiCI6i2dKtijUYK5Kb38DDUrhPvI0mkLz-rdFHeiCeizd5sYJhtAbHe3hNP4j4EXD6la7G-XL_xr882Okf6TEsLZoAaLGSLpHcJeWqq8riZgOX53xu0So/s675/discovTN.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9i2oBBJqoINQEdiqjQYqWPZhiCI6i2dKtijUYK5Kb38DDUrhPvI0mkLz-rdFHeiCeizd5sYJhtAbHe3hNP4j4EXD6la7G-XL_xr882Okf6TEsLZoAaLGSLpHcJeWqq8riZgOX53xu0So/w568-h640/discovTN.jpg" title="Discovering Terra Nullius" width="568" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Discovering Terra Nullius 138 cm x 123 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><br />
<br /><div>When Tasman sailed down the coast of Trouwunna in 1642 he didn’t see any occupants, but saw certain indications that the place was inhabited. Cook, Baudin and other early visitors confirmed this, but persisted in declaring that they had “discovered” a new country that was up for grabs. The people who had already discovered the place and made it their home tens of thousands of years earlier were not asked their opinion. </div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwTfE-zxPPM3brMWKr2VTNBydpN8GClvQBStWpcSAk1YXEIUMeaDbTN2Dyvg-V6YJufaanHtiqYvwE5Dx7ypth6bP5kb8k8d6ppkGvtVkmFvGljlod75VxNZR45vUkrorTdcm5-k8iYM/s600/fb_allThePrettyShipsCameIn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="600" height="479" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJwTfE-zxPPM3brMWKr2VTNBydpN8GClvQBStWpcSAk1YXEIUMeaDbTN2Dyvg-V6YJufaanHtiqYvwE5Dx7ypth6bP5kb8k8d6ppkGvtVkmFvGljlod75VxNZR45vUkrorTdcm5-k8iYM/w640-h479/fb_allThePrettyShipsCameIn.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the Pretty Ships Came In 91 cm x 122 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>
<div>There are varying accounts of how astonished Australians were when the first European ships arrived. Were these strange things huge seabirds, or floating islands with possum-like creatures running up and down the trees? How did they move, with nobody pushing? Did they walk along the bottom, or paddle like swans? Eventually the ships came in and these problems were solved, but they were exceedingly trivial compared to what followed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div>The British assumed, as usual, that they could move in and take over. </div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GjkOaTSeYJTgxJfGY4VxWi6gJF3hgrwLKtM4F0avnIZyeonBqcuYmHotIXe2FF92wkNwixZvucuV4_AaPgMe4jf9x-aCS1Z_sCb5jD1fe2Jeq1_Ql3DGJuqYTXxv4-hg1PLS5qHp19k/s600/fb_offToExploitTheAntipodes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="481" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0GjkOaTSeYJTgxJfGY4VxWi6gJF3hgrwLKtM4F0avnIZyeonBqcuYmHotIXe2FF92wkNwixZvucuV4_AaPgMe4jf9x-aCS1Z_sCb5jD1fe2Jeq1_Ql3DGJuqYTXxv4-hg1PLS5qHp19k/w513-h640/fb_offToExploitTheAntipodes.jpg" width="513" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off to Exploit the Antipodes 152 cm x 122 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<div>If the locals were nonplussed by the new arrivals, the colonists were rather apprehensive about unknown horrors inhabiting the jungle into which they had been thrust.</div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_n9qtWcwr-k0TSHcJDwJcjygOpNVhK9oGIRWR8my4MgZeF8w10imFF22LPW0I1P57CEs7t8p3xfZ0DjY6oiXmw-SMhoWRpnVJNUk-uu1GZFpsSDOJqpcKRoe5ULxASj_NmzN-fHSalc/s600/fb_theWildWoods.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj_n9qtWcwr-k0TSHcJDwJcjygOpNVhK9oGIRWR8my4MgZeF8w10imFF22LPW0I1P57CEs7t8p3xfZ0DjY6oiXmw-SMhoWRpnVJNUk-uu1GZFpsSDOJqpcKRoe5ULxASj_NmzN-fHSalc/s16000/fb_theWildWoods.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wild Woods 91 cm x 122 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Many of them knew little of the world beyond a few city streets or a couple of rural villages, their education consisting of superstition and local gossip. The forests of Van Diemens Land must have been pretty fearsome. </div><div><br /></div><div>The tough ones survived. We don’t know much about the ones who didn’t. </div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4999kQbWnMXKYYUYUggWTA4x-SYD7Jle8GcjQHBxdb0E_ZJFoA7AfUDy_aqnCFEXKx790XROMeSNz0gUCql8KsAXRRyp_vnFhyphenhyphenypHM1aYF0DsxsvO_zeLlaxg78Ge5DxWQPZrp8RNQb8/s600/fb_intoTheHinterland.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="600" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4999kQbWnMXKYYUYUggWTA4x-SYD7Jle8GcjQHBxdb0E_ZJFoA7AfUDy_aqnCFEXKx790XROMeSNz0gUCql8KsAXRRyp_vnFhyphenhyphenypHM1aYF0DsxsvO_zeLlaxg78Ge5DxWQPZrp8RNQb8/w640-h516/fb_intoTheHinterland.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the Hinterland 87 cm x 117 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>
<div> Do you watch horror movies? Do you ever wonder what it would look like if the zombies won? And they made the movie?</div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfqpe_M5HVaomgws9-R8WjghbphuQ2cPK0urFHn_NESZBp5b5c3kbfplIDOIdNZZ7btG4cTfJ7kOM8tBtNcOkfa_Efp_ZE1Pra0hVh9g-wiahCL5EXOpKOojAX7_Mo4wT6lUUYh6WZ7g/s750/fb_arthurAndTheZombieApocalypse.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="750" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfqpe_M5HVaomgws9-R8WjghbphuQ2cPK0urFHn_NESZBp5b5c3kbfplIDOIdNZZ7btG4cTfJ7kOM8tBtNcOkfa_Efp_ZE1Pra0hVh9g-wiahCL5EXOpKOojAX7_Mo4wT6lUUYh6WZ7g/w640-h294/fb_arthurAndTheZombieApocalypse.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arthur and the Zombie Apocalypse 84 cm x 183 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>
<div> Governor Arthur’s futile, but no doubt terrifying, Black Line failed to capture any of the “troublesome natives”, but helped convince the few remaining people that their only option was to accept George Augustus Robinson’s proposal to move them to Flinders Island.</div><div><br /></div><div>It didn't end well.</div><div><br /></div>
<div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LCju-pNwc8RdaWsB24iK2Fz4v1udMwYsRZ9sZqW2JcTKNg-dBxuuSO519Rfb0migR_dxmbIgCgtsT639l4Z8yXfKWDMBDmtp98vj1sEKq7Z7-IjXtWqe1uvu5bd5UppKcqJ6Dyh8Cn8/s600/fb_tinyTragedy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="502" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LCju-pNwc8RdaWsB24iK2Fz4v1udMwYsRZ9sZqW2JcTKNg-dBxuuSO519Rfb0migR_dxmbIgCgtsT639l4Z8yXfKWDMBDmtp98vj1sEKq7Z7-IjXtWqe1uvu5bd5UppKcqJ6Dyh8Cn8/w535-h640/fb_tinyTragedy.jpg" width="535" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny Tragedy 91 cm x 76 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Tasmania, Australia-42.0409059 146.8087323-69.413271117086992 111.6524823 -14.668540682913005 -178.03501770000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-92017020967331573592020-07-05T22:05:00.001+10:002020-10-30T23:02:57.419+11:00When the Tide Goes Out<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtZfHUaW2R2WySbb7qLFcZjXrPOsq96BTTHfGXjCPexWzJDGkwITlkFdJY7Oz-7CFMNHBdvSUKPe9fhkte-Njh9QWGV6JFH7c825BUDVt_pu6q-J8pDnOm2E3zAkHfQbhs5YbqNWyu20/s1600/whenTheTideGoesOut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="600" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtZfHUaW2R2WySbb7qLFcZjXrPOsq96BTTHfGXjCPexWzJDGkwITlkFdJY7Oz-7CFMNHBdvSUKPe9fhkte-Njh9QWGV6JFH7c825BUDVt_pu6q-J8pDnOm2E3zAkHfQbhs5YbqNWyu20/s640/whenTheTideGoesOut.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When the Tide Goes Out oil on canvas 92 cm x 112 cm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0.3cm;">
<br />
What do
you find when the tide goes out? Abandoned fishing nets are
ubiquitous, and I've found pretty much everything in this painting on
a seashore somewhere. Except the mermaid. I haven't found a mermaid.
I really don't want to.
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0.3cm;">
Mermaids
are the ultimate Dangerous Women, luring poor randy little innocent
sailor-boys to their doom or something. When I was in primary school
we learnt a sea shanty that was popular among
sailors in the seventeenth century, if not earlier. It describes a
Mermaid sitting on a rock “with a comb and a glass in her hand”,
an image you can find in fourteenth century manuscripts, so it's been
around for a long time.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.3cm;">
Seeing what is
happening to the oceans, I reckon these days she'd be angrier and a
lot nastier than the most degenerate old salt could imagine.<br />
<br />
But
what if she's moved with the times? What if she's traded her mirror
for the current symbol of vanity – the phone, and amuses herself
taking selfies, sexting her victims and enthusiastically spreading mayhem, disinformation and confusion on social media? Don't imagine for a moment that a
twenty-first century mermaid is a cute, sanitised fishy Disney
Princess.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.3cm;">
And really, really,
hope you don't meet one when the tide goes out.</div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0.3cm;">
You can see this painting and the two below in the <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Dangerous Women</i></span> exhibition at the Nolan Gallery, Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart until at least the end of July 2020</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
If you
want to hear a lively version of the sea shanty, here's a link<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HiReDV9FAA" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HiReDV9FAA</a><br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEm0IyrfeCrUcfqabRpJI48Qs_DjDoVT3JAWVq_-0BSIFK1oH2QOoFNom3wvRqLxNYZ3DgU0RJB1BL2Pw-NAhCrMg56uDFlc1nyPzK9yGOw3EIAkC6VvbwFK7YxyR12ZAXoxdRD3oou5Y/s1600/balancingOE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="471" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEm0IyrfeCrUcfqabRpJI48Qs_DjDoVT3JAWVq_-0BSIFK1oH2QOoFNom3wvRqLxNYZ3DgU0RJB1BL2Pw-NAhCrMg56uDFlc1nyPzK9yGOw3EIAkC6VvbwFK7YxyR12ZAXoxdRD3oou5Y/s640/balancingOE.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balancing on the Edge - oil on canvas 50 cm x 40 cm
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsO-n06mjQnGpyOg9oek-pycjNNCPk7TGb9ECkFrW6zM5ewSpULDkNl2gnew3lfADqW27_B5WLq1v5SXjycp14tkHi5pDbQFJGVxJUBuzO19TS8w36NGThV4BNdHPfrosk043KTsfZZc/s1600/fb_ourLadyOfDC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="475" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfsO-n06mjQnGpyOg9oek-pycjNNCPk7TGb9ECkFrW6zM5ewSpULDkNl2gnew3lfADqW27_B5WLq1v5SXjycp14tkHi5pDbQFJGVxJUBuzO19TS8w36NGThV4BNdHPfrosk043KTsfZZc/s640/fb_ourLadyOfDC.jpg" width="505" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Lady of Disorderly Conduct oil on canvas 50cm x 40cm
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Some say the popular
Mediaeval new year Feast of Fools began in pagan Rome to welcome the
returning light after mid-winter. The Lord of Misrule turned the
hierarchy on its head, jesters reigned; kings served. Beggars rode;
lords grovelled. Everyone dressed extravagantly, danced and sang and
disrupted church services, children demanded treats. All was rowdiness
and revelry. Then, having let off steam, they returned to their daily
lives of drudgery, piety and obedience.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Artists are today's
Lords and Ladies of Misrule, creators of glorious anarchy, enlivening
everyday reality with intrigue, excitement and joy.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Enjoy!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
More King Island Gothic paintings:<br />
<a href="http://tasmanian-gothic.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/shanes-grassy-oppy.html">Shane's Grassy Oppy</a><br />
<a href="http://tasmanian-gothic.blogspot.com.au/2012/12/return-to-island.html">Return to the Island</a><br />
<a href="http://tasmanian-gothic.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/king-island-gothic.html">King Island Gothic</a><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-56149043859592996732019-09-27T12:49:00.001+10:002019-12-23T16:45:16.074+11:00FIRST CAR ON THE HILL<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; widows: 2;">
In
1916 Mrs Pearce, the richest lady in Lindisfarne, bought the first
motor-car in the village and added driving to the duties of her
long-suffering lady companion. It was obviously a far more convenient
mode of transport than saddling up Ranger or Gunner, or taking
Mother's pony and trap, and there might have been a touch of rivalry
involved, too. At any rate, the Lane family began to consider buying
a brand new Ford Tourer. Costing more than £200.00, a motor-car was
an expensive investment so it had to be a family decision. They sat
on the verandah talking it over, and finally settled the matter in
their own inimitable manner - “If someone walks along the track in
the next ten minutes, we'll buy one.” Somebody did. A car would be
bought.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
The
family consisted of Mr Benjamin Lane, his wife Marion, generally
known as Fanny, and their twelve children, but they were not all
there at <i>The
Turning</i>
in 1919 when
this conversation was taking place. Six* of the boys had gone off to the Great War; Fred and Bern would not
come home. Their father, formerly a process photographer and designer
at <i>The Mercury,</i>
was retired and amused himself inventing various contraptions, looking after his chooks and pottering about doing odd jobs. Bess,
the oldest, and now a senior school-teacher in her mid-forties, was the main money-earner in the family. Doll earned a little
pocket-money selling stories and poems to <i>The
Bulletin, Lone Hand</i> and other publications and kept the house spotlessly clean. Ada had
done all the cooking for the family since she was twelve years old,
and Ruth, who had not long left school, had a small income as a music
teacher. Hal and young John, in his mid-teens, cared for the
livestock, cut wood, and generally did the “men's work” around
the property.
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Bert
came home from the Great War in 1918, just in time for Christmas. The
family decorated the dining room specially, and Father was so
impressed he took photographs.
<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB0yjxq1fvoWXmlYeE8gXQ6oXlKiCfMjTmrIcCui1QSHjBWQ_xl1dmIAX-eShmFgqcz2vo70PHb1pPrPbq5YHCFBWqUkR8NCqh9HR0ngvxaB03BLyx-tREjrTGuJGyfvGr-gHT2blCkXo/s1600/fb_photo1_diningroomDecorations1918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="600" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB0yjxq1fvoWXmlYeE8gXQ6oXlKiCfMjTmrIcCui1QSHjBWQ_xl1dmIAX-eShmFgqcz2vo70PHb1pPrPbq5YHCFBWqUkR8NCqh9HR0ngvxaB03BLyx-tREjrTGuJGyfvGr-gHT2blCkXo/s400/fb_photo1_diningroomDecorations1918.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Bert
had been severely wounded on the Somme and now walked with
difficulty. This had been the most important factor in the family's
decision to buy a car.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Once
the decision was made, another problem presented itself. “The
track” visible from the verandah was an old wood-carters' track
from the end of Karoola Crescent over the hill to Flagstaff Gully. It
was fairly rough, but good enough for the pedestrians and horses that
used it. There was another track through the middle of <i>The
Turning</i>
paddocks, past several old sandstone and gravel quarries, that came
out onto Bellerive Rd (now Gordons Hill Rd) where it takes a sharp
right-hand bend at the top of the hill. Both these routes included a
steep uphill climb. The one the family used most led down to the
railway siding at the end of Flagstaff Gully where Bess caught the train to Bellerive every morning. There was a stretch of
deep sand where the trap sometimes bogged, requiring Dawn to be taken
out of the shafts and a deal of digging and heaving and shoving to
get free, but it had a much gentler slope. They decided to make this
their main driveway.
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
There
was a minor obstacle – the Humpy, built as temporary accommodation
while <i>The
Turning </i>was
under construction and now used as a workshop, was in the way.
Nothing daunted, the boys attached ropes and
pulleys to convenient trees, lifted the little building up
and replaced it on a makeshift, loose dry-stone foundation out of the path
of progress. They probably intended to get some better foundations
under it eventually, but they added a fireplace and chimney using
bricks and stone so that it was at least usable. About forty years
later that chimney, now crumbling and fallen, was removed and the
opening closed by a new door. The Humpy is still standing on its
temporary foundations.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Bert
hired three men from South Arm to help break rocks, and between them
they built a good, solid cobbled roadway. By November
1919 it was complete, with a neat green gate at the bottom and a
brand new garage at the top.<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH712yVxYDRCX46NpHvyZGjoDzqo6ZmVOqgxjb0UIGiSuX1lHYDd2k3ytsnT7vtKKDDOHOO-7Ua3S6w8w1LQ6gZJkumJNHeepjYPkQ-ryJpAYCnw_kCavpTvybHJaAmNl2vMPj14DzaU/s1600/fb_photo2_garageAtTheTurning1919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="600" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH712yVxYDRCX46NpHvyZGjoDzqo6ZmVOqgxjb0UIGiSuX1lHYDd2k3ytsnT7vtKKDDOHOO-7Ua3S6w8w1LQ6gZJkumJNHeepjYPkQ-ryJpAYCnw_kCavpTvybHJaAmNl2vMPj14DzaU/s400/fb_photo2_garageAtTheTurning1919.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Denis,
who had married in England, arrived back in Lindisfarne with his new
wife and their infant son just before the road was finished.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Sadly, we don't know exactly when the car was purchased, but it's nice to think that when Norm, who “caught the first troopship out and the last one home” managed to get back in time to celebrate Christmas 1919 he was driven home from the Bellerive ferry in style up the New
Motor Road.
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9YE9CBN50faApyYen59rmToUxXJY2J8aAmnXgi7yRBzq-GOhVYtE2AJGiahXPSOIgeOv21BzUwfnkY2wfmoy6pO-tKB8I18NHkCEBEnM5aVkOehUoC0mCHfF70eMt_G-2YVaJs1isfc/s1600/fb_photo3_NormDenisEvaBern1919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="600" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9YE9CBN50faApyYen59rmToUxXJY2J8aAmnXgi7yRBzq-GOhVYtE2AJGiahXPSOIgeOv21BzUwfnkY2wfmoy6pO-tKB8I18NHkCEBEnM5aVkOehUoC0mCHfF70eMt_G-2YVaJs1isfc/s400/fb_photo3_NormDenisEvaBern1919.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Here is a photograph of Norm at the wheel, with Denis, Eva
and Bern.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Denis
and Eva bought a house in Malunna Road. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
In
1922 Norm married Mrs Pearce's widowed daughter and went to live in
Lowelly Road.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Bert
resumed his public service job in the Audit Department in 1920, and
became engaged to Grace Denholm. He built a house for them further
along the hill towards the quarry, and they married in 1922, a month
or so after Norm and Linda. He built a new driveway to connect with
the Motor Road, but it was not nearly as elaborate, being little more
than a cleared track. They called their new house <i>The
Ridge</i><br />
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
John
married Lorraine Gorringe and went to work in country branches of the
Commonwealth Bank.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Although
Doll learned to drive in the Top Paddock, Hal and his sisters
generally continued to walk everywhere, with Bert driving them occasionally if required.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
o0o</div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
In
1930 Fred Murfett bought Mr Rossington's little orchard next door to <i>The Turning.</i></div>
<span style="color: black;">
He got on well with the Lane family, and they gave him permission to use the Motor Road, as had Mr Rossington. However, Fred was a hard-working, business-like man who enlarged his planting and was soon harvesting substantial crops of pears. The days of horse-drawn vehicles were coming to an end, and suddenly there were heavily-laden motor lorries rumbling past <i>The Turning,</i> damaging the road and disrupting the peace. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;">Father explained to Fred that this would have to stop. Fred approached the Clarence Council, and was provided with three road-workers. They cleared and built up the old wood-carters track to Flagstaff Gully down the boundary between his orchard and <i>The Turning</i>, and Fred built a packing shed half way down the hill. Much to their chagrin, the Council has found itself having to maintain Fred's
driveway ever since.</span>
<br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
After the Second World War, with a new bridge across the Derwent River, it became inconvenient having the main entrance onto Flagstaff Gully. Modern motor vehicles had no problems with steep hills. Bert's son Geoff built a new road down to Bellerive Road, which became the common entrance for both <i>The Turning </i>and <i>The Ridge.</i> The Old Motor Road remained in use until the 1950s, when Bert and Denis subdivided the land along Flagstaff Gully Road as building blocks. Somebody put a house where the Green Gate formerly stood.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
About 1930 Bert bought a second-hand Chevrolet tourer. The garage was removed from <i>The Turning</i> to <i>The Ridge,</i>
and later extended to make a workshop. It was demolished in the early 21<sup><span style="font-size: small;">st</span></sup>
century to make way for a tennis court. The old Ford was left rusting away in the paddock below <i>The Ridge</i> where its remains were still to be seen in the 1950's.
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixj6nbSCIIYjx4pPHEPANTG5iC6UX0iTtJqVZtXhJWHG_FGonKjfPBOVN_86moDA8QodLXUhpQR5GOnspSe5ibhCAlpz4dpAXsS2Wr3dN8Rp5XzoZz4-4dTjC2-zNDlPRhEwIXO2Xu_y8/s1600/fb_photo4_BertAndNewMotorRoad1919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="486" data-original-width="600" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixj6nbSCIIYjx4pPHEPANTG5iC6UX0iTtJqVZtXhJWHG_FGonKjfPBOVN_86moDA8QodLXUhpQR5GOnspSe5ibhCAlpz4dpAXsS2Wr3dN8Rp5XzoZz4-4dTjC2-zNDlPRhEwIXO2Xu_y8/s320/fb_photo4_BertAndNewMotorRoad1919.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bert and the Motor Road 1919</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div style="font-style: normal;">
<br /></div>
The Motor Road endures. Traces are still visible despite decades of bushfires and neglect. As the suburbs encroach more and more of it is
disappearing under bricks and bitumen, but in its honour one of the new streets now bears the name <span style="font-size: large;">Newmotor Road.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div id="sdfootnote1">
<div class="sdfootnote-western">
<small>* Those
of you who are paying attention will notice I have accounted for
only five boys. Alf, the oldest son, returned to his wife's family
in Melbourne, then went to Hong Kong as one of the partners in a
civil engineering company. He never came back to Tasmania. </small></div>
</div>
</div>
<br />Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Lindisfarne TAS 7015, Australia-42.847778 147.35305600000004-42.894349 147.27237500000004 -42.801207 147.43373700000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-44699674443155383822018-08-06T23:24:00.002+10:002021-10-28T22:56:18.215+11:00Holy Mountain<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Respect the
Mountain</i> is holding an exhibition from 9 to 12 August 2018 at the Long Gallery, Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart. To quote the exhibition organisers:</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dear kunanyi</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> is an exhibition of contemporary artistic responses to kunanyi / Mount Wellington. The exhibition looks at our relationship with the mountain, its importance to our city and its presence in our lives. We are creating a patchwork quilt of experiences, thrown around us just when the winter is at its darkest, and we need it most.</span></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This is the painting I did for the show:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-I615af-m99R4NZg_PKRc2UPBxq4TFJaJBfQwWGgyG4mi6qZdCtkpqwkYk78isIN6QX8lGpzp6UDzDtg4kj-M1A2cc5K5qipwfn1veJixDpDVHMsxj3zmpI7tHAAkQYbUnV0Oeu3Mbg/s1600/holyMountain.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-I615af-m99R4NZg_PKRc2UPBxq4TFJaJBfQwWGgyG4mi6qZdCtkpqwkYk78isIN6QX8lGpzp6UDzDtg4kj-M1A2cc5K5qipwfn1veJixDpDVHMsxj3zmpI7tHAAkQYbUnV0Oeu3Mbg/s1600/holyMountain.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holy Mountain oil on canvas 90 cm x 212 cm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I
don't know how Tasmania's original inhabitants regarded it, but over
the past two centuries kunanyi has been explored by bushrangers,
scientists, athletes and holiday makers. On its slopes you can find
many traces of past activity.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This
painting is a playful meditation on the various people who have enjoyed
kunanyi. Do not attempt to take it literally – let your imagination
wander among the rocks and bushes, feel the sun on your back and the
wind in your face, and next time you stroll along one of the many
mountain paths, hear the spirits of those who walked kunanyi before
you.</div>
<br />
<h3>
A week later:</h3>
<div align="LEFT" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
When I went to collect my painting from the gallery I discovered I had won second prize in the People's Choice award! Many thank yous to all you lovely people who liked my painting better than the other hundred and fifty or so in the exhibition.</div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com177 Salamanca Pl, Battery Point TAS 7004, Australia-42.8869787 147.333749-68.4090132 106.02515500000001 -17.3649442 -171.35765700000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-86668039443013952342018-07-24T15:40:00.002+10:002023-11-03T22:46:30.857+11:00HAUNTED LANDSCAPE<h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">Haunted Landscape</span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> is a carefully selected collection of paintings about landscape, memory, and the passage of time. These paintings were exhibited at Nolan Art Gallery in Salamanca Place, Hobart, between 21 July and 14 August 2018. You do not have to agree with my commentary; bring your own experiences and interpretations, but above all, don't take them too seriously. Relax and enjoy!</span></h4>
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlYuXTW8mMrYo3ejlx5UGSlYuO0Mm1YrHoF7lZsz4MNA4NcmyZ52ccAu8eTlqvcpunTsApQeEClm3i2hhOMCHQHsVUbm1EW4Bh8PZgHJzYPKOJ78FwEaTx6mnax1eBcaRVJczH_crRwM/s1600/fb_followingTheVan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBlYuXTW8mMrYo3ejlx5UGSlYuO0Mm1YrHoF7lZsz4MNA4NcmyZ52ccAu8eTlqvcpunTsApQeEClm3i2hhOMCHQHsVUbm1EW4Bh8PZgHJzYPKOJ78FwEaTx6mnax1eBcaRVJczH_crRwM/s1600/fb_followingTheVan.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
Following the Van - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">66 cm x 112 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
FOLLOWING THE VAN</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Is that an actual
mountain? Somebody asked. I had to say “no – I made it up”.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I spend a lot of time
walking in landscape, looking at landscape, and occasionally
recording a piece of its history, often illustrated with photographs
I have taken.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The infinite variety of
shapes, texture and colour in the Tasmanian bush provides me with
endless inspiration, but when it comes to painting I am not
interested in recording an accurate image of a specific feature. My
paintings are about ideas. Landscapes provide the stage and help set
the mood of the picture and I adjust and modify them freely to fit my
needs, working from memory but occasionally referring to a photograph for an odd detail.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The people I walk with
are never as strange as these, and so far the landscape has never
been so desolate. The caravan has moved on, and the stragglers are
left behind.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPdDsVrx9bThPYGpDPd5DOwPmg3Ko3FIdIsJTBtIncwiQrdSipdLP9LvhWBRRc0P69MeB9Z44LQVhiGfewG0os3cQaYNZkXiSgDzvZRPtIoznsShG1iKRfzSzjpUiVpvWBx0JHKhA-Rs/s1600/fb_McCraesHill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPdDsVrx9bThPYGpDPd5DOwPmg3Ko3FIdIsJTBtIncwiQrdSipdLP9LvhWBRRc0P69MeB9Z44LQVhiGfewG0os3cQaYNZkXiSgDzvZRPtIoznsShG1iKRfzSzjpUiVpvWBx0JHKhA-Rs/s1600/fb_McCraesHill.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
McCrae's Hill - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">91 cm x 76 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
McCRAE'S HILL</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In the early nineteenth
century Mr McCrae and his wife took up land near the foot of the
Western Tiers. They built a standard Georgian farmhouse; the front
rooms red brick; the back, over the brick-lined cellars, were timber.
Perhaps the intention was to rebuild in brick once land was cleared
and money came in from crops and livestock.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Decades passed.
Properties changed hands, new roads were formed. McCrae's Hill, a low
rise surrounded by swamp, was marooned far from commonly travelled
paths. In the twentieth century the old house was abandoned in favour
of a new home convenient to the road. Now great trees that once shaded a
colonial garden lie rotting across the path. The head of a broken
windmill hangs upside down over a rusty tank. Timbers have rotted
away. There are gaping holes in the wall where bricks have crumbled,
floors and staircase are treacherous, the stone lintel fallen onto
the steps below. Nature, season by season, reclaims its own.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshbSEJlsFfF8sh-yVERIx_CwQeP79a7Tx6agkhOaJfdOiA1uftpG1WYhr_UP_nGLylj2aw8fhw2AkUDdz0c6slsBwlGjMRkG5ON6bUWoFyd4AbulK13Zd129e6pWdDNp8iRSR4SVOYXs/s1600/fb_amongTheFallen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshbSEJlsFfF8sh-yVERIx_CwQeP79a7Tx6agkhOaJfdOiA1uftpG1WYhr_UP_nGLylj2aw8fhw2AkUDdz0c6slsBwlGjMRkG5ON6bUWoFyd4AbulK13Zd129e6pWdDNp8iRSR4SVOYXs/s1600/fb_amongTheFallen.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
Among The Fallen - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">66 cm x 97 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
AMONG THE FALLEN</h3>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There is a historic
cemetery in Richmond, behind Australia's oldest church. Below it
flows the Coal River, where a platypus may occasionally be glimpsed
at sunset.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My friend and I walked,
after a scenic drive and cream tea, among the crooked headstones,
reading names of other people's ancestors. The hill is steep, the
grass was wet, and my friend slipped and fell. It was not a serious
fall, but she has back trouble and was in a lot of pain. It was a few
moments before she let me help her up, and we made jokes about fallen
women. She wore a pale coloured coat; I was in my customary black. By
the time we reached home all these images had begun to form a
picture, and this is what it became. We didn't see a platypus that
day, but I thought a thylacine was more appropriate. After all, we
didn't see one of them, either.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL7SL2TybN2wJ_PhGSvqLJoijDvTYleMdtLZ0FNTZpWQKNhpO8tLeNMRY7iKm_wSx6s26ezlEhkzb43CBB76YraLMIeT57NlDEObJs6FDdE4i5hijZLpiCCMFqrEjfB0jtCKj-ki9y3s/s1600/fb_settlementDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL7SL2TybN2wJ_PhGSvqLJoijDvTYleMdtLZ0FNTZpWQKNhpO8tLeNMRY7iKm_wSx6s26ezlEhkzb43CBB76YraLMIeT57NlDEObJs6FDdE4i5hijZLpiCCMFqrEjfB0jtCKj-ki9y3s/s1600/fb_settlementDay.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
Settlement Day - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">66 cm x 97 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
SETTLEMENT DAY</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The idea for this
painting fermented in the back of my mind for many years, bubbling to
the surface now and then, until I decided it was probably ready. A
lot of preparatory drawings were rejected or, in some cases,
re-purposed to appear in other paintings.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Tasmanians are
regularly reminded that we are descended from invaders who stole the
land; in fact, you'd be hard-pressed to find a country anywhere that
hadn't, at some time, suffered an invasion. Here is a happy farm in a
pretty valley, loosely based on a property I visited on the Clyde
River near Hollow Tree. A dark force is approaching; this does not
augur well.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I particularly enjoyed
painting the sheep. Sheep are cute, warm, woolly, slightly demented
(by human standards) and incredibly useful. They have completely
changed the landscape, nibbling vegetation to its roots, compacting
the soil and churning up mud with their sharp little hooves. Native
bushland is turned into pasture to accommodate them. Some people call
this deplorable environmental damage. Other people call it economic
development. Anyway, here they are, a vital component of rural
industry or ravenous little beasts intent on destruction.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The phrase “settlement
day” has at least three different meanings – invasion,
retribution or debt collection. Take your pick. If you think of
another one, let me know.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWebh418mSiKqJ0ygym7cSEk2QaD79Rf3kiiDd7Ad3Oe8IE3wOTaBMCUQwVvNfK6OUJK5Z4UE3D6dzMA3p594tCxKnyvgcW5W5HlDxMcLXCVPEpmys9h2cHE8ZaJdGUOp3XEYF3mdJ644/s1600/fb_laughingGirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWebh418mSiKqJ0ygym7cSEk2QaD79Rf3kiiDd7Ad3Oe8IE3wOTaBMCUQwVvNfK6OUJK5Z4UE3D6dzMA3p594tCxKnyvgcW5W5HlDxMcLXCVPEpmys9h2cHE8ZaJdGUOp3XEYF3mdJ644/s1600/fb_laughingGirl.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
Laughing Girl - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">76 cm x 61 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
LAUGHING GIRL</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This is a painting “of”
three figures based on an old family photograph, and a distinctive
feature on the Clyde River near Hollow Tree, but that is not what it
is “about”.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It is about landscape
and the memory of people who have passed through it. As future
becomes present and fades into yesterday, only memories remain. A
thousand generations have left their memories on this country; I am
qualified to address only those arriving since the end of the
eighteenth century. The characters in my paintings are no more sad,
happy, benign or malicious than people you meet every day, nor are
they lost souls. They are part of the land and its history.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j0Fn-R_Ujad8-LoDDMxWsJ_gim9FRnpGr-bMiLzku7CsBcJQqHADPsxJrnFuI7fccF_7r9HH09QqobDeRIEjgICnps2VwFlqQCaW6_zzrzBn5TIcZeKUnyC4iwQhYyUkgoH7gFrrW94/s1600/fb_BonesOfTheAncestors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j0Fn-R_Ujad8-LoDDMxWsJ_gim9FRnpGr-bMiLzku7CsBcJQqHADPsxJrnFuI7fccF_7r9HH09QqobDeRIEjgICnps2VwFlqQCaW6_zzrzBn5TIcZeKUnyC4iwQhYyUkgoH7gFrrW94/s1600/fb_BonesOfTheAncestors.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
Bones of the Ancestors - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">76 cm x 152 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
BONES OF THE ANCESTORS</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Everywhere we go, we
find traces of people who went before us. “Bones” in this context
include any skeletal structure, be it metal, masonry or timber.
Anything that endures after the soft bits are gone. I have even
extended it to include earthworks, ruined forests and colonial
history. That might be stretching it a bit, but it's my painting and
I make the rules.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Wherever you get
interesting ruins (and a successful marketing strategy) you get
tourists as well. I have painted about them in the past, and will
have more to say in future paintings.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2kLdvX25qbQY_T5Xt7lClKGKiMg4i9wbysQksRHeS7JT8aw1P-LSr7PhYypQRaMEUzjg7NXAwxUS0NnZeyt6AbIuaGwKD0JXntvFF4TI6f8Xgm25qgt0w7Hcj7wiK51n67LOok5jI84/s1600/fb_ChildsGuidetoWilderness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2kLdvX25qbQY_T5Xt7lClKGKiMg4i9wbysQksRHeS7JT8aw1P-LSr7PhYypQRaMEUzjg7NXAwxUS0NnZeyt6AbIuaGwKD0JXntvFF4TI6f8Xgm25qgt0w7Hcj7wiK51n67LOok5jI84/s1600/fb_ChildsGuidetoWilderness.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: 1.25em; font-weight: 700;">
A Child's Guide to Wilderness - <span style="color: #003399; font-family: "geneva"; font-size: 10px;">84 cm x 91 cm oil on canvas</span></div>
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<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
CHILD'S GUIDE TO
WILDERNESS</h4>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This painting is about
the present, and more easily explained in dot points. Interpret them
as you will.</div>
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
we live in an
increasingly urban environment and many people rarely experience
bushland or natural places. They run on treadmills, climb indoor
walls and inhabit virtual landscapes where they can farm or fight as
they please</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
nature has become
a theme park, where the wealthy go to play on their holidays while
David Attenborough shows the pretty bits to people who can't afford
holidays</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“wilderness”
is a modern construct; there is no such thing as a pristine
landscape, especially in Australia where it has been carefully
managed for thousands of years. “Wild” simply means “neglected”</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
we are
increasingly spreading plastic and other pollutants all over the
country and ocean, to the detriment of the non-human people trying
to share the natural world with us</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
does it matter?</div>
</li>
</ul>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com077 Salamanca Pl, Battery Point TAS 7004, Australia-42.8866926 147.33303509999996-42.892509600000004 147.32295009999996 -42.8808756 147.34312009999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-54237593093133546032017-07-02T02:00:00.000+10:002017-10-24T13:02:53.715+11:00Ancestral Memories and a Gothic gullyA chilly Saturday morning, with snow on the mountain, frost on the garden and the Bridgewater Jerry winding its way down the river. I tossed a bucket of water over my car to clear ice from the windscreen and went to meet the rest of the group for a walk on private land on the approaches to Spring Hill. We parked beside the Colebrook Rd and headed off into the paddocks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7BkVQkJt6Gxj8UmPnnfA5-lzMYMU5svhlma-243Mpx7qk-52NNshY8aziW1epaUMI1pLyxtkD5gMRS4jh1DQ8cIUf5vMwv-zI0B7p1NOpf5yol00eOTiAgdE-DvUbyHj1Zl88nq7zh0/s1600/fb_frost2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI7BkVQkJt6Gxj8UmPnnfA5-lzMYMU5svhlma-243Mpx7qk-52NNshY8aziW1epaUMI1pLyxtkD5gMRS4jh1DQ8cIUf5vMwv-zI0B7p1NOpf5yol00eOTiAgdE-DvUbyHj1Zl88nq7zh0/s1600/fb_frost2.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">frost on the ferns</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gEef0w961BgMRaC7uCSbL5Ux3TkvasyZsRuLZKY5ks-Kx7V4GPRi3N00ZYdM0IOz6M7Qa_u1pMrJ5mi4oVq7fN2GcMbGACdKxo62VVkuh1PYDJX5Oc_bHRQcdaeihEEDqc53Y4ikFIE/s1600/fb_frost.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gEef0w961BgMRaC7uCSbL5Ux3TkvasyZsRuLZKY5ks-Kx7V4GPRi3N00ZYdM0IOz6M7Qa_u1pMrJ5mi4oVq7fN2GcMbGACdKxo62VVkuh1PYDJX5Oc_bHRQcdaeihEEDqc53Y4ikFIE/s1600/fb_frost.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">shadows on the frost</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Uvu6oEuaNGdZO_l0GfA3JYJ1ZmetpiqnjJy_JwPJ-ggtL1jw02ncq1F5_8MNubC2TtmFTVnx9ZMhXumR-kdY5OLiGr_jKZ_Tx0NwXTxkEF6JuXR7gwvt8w83vjtDDhDunXj5lOiawBk/s1600/fb_fallenTree.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Uvu6oEuaNGdZO_l0GfA3JYJ1ZmetpiqnjJy_JwPJ-ggtL1jw02ncq1F5_8MNubC2TtmFTVnx9ZMhXumR-kdY5OLiGr_jKZ_Tx0NwXTxkEF6JuXR7gwvt8w83vjtDDhDunXj5lOiawBk/s1600/fb_fallenTree.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />
The first part of the walk followed the appropriately-named Serpentine Valley Creek.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48icByOyF0qvbvejWfoUw5sWEkBdlyeT5g3yeNQ3_1KI8TuWjwBTyJpNspz5bJ5IjLg8kZ1XSRsOOpl1hXW45WALK1pzZimlHzkKevN5frR0r8uwkwvbsr0jBP9E7XkB0U37PSptc1TY/s1600/fb_creek1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48icByOyF0qvbvejWfoUw5sWEkBdlyeT5g3yeNQ3_1KI8TuWjwBTyJpNspz5bJ5IjLg8kZ1XSRsOOpl1hXW45WALK1pzZimlHzkKevN5frR0r8uwkwvbsr0jBP9E7XkB0U37PSptc1TY/s1600/fb_creek1.JPG" /></a></div>
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We became very familiar with this creek as it wound its way back and forth across our path and we hopped, scrambled and splashed across it. There were also plenty of fences to climb.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgns_5pg7EjRIfS6O8azemoqDS_tSTOCM0nfOAwXiAJaYGtMkDYhV2AndABghhe0y3-OCkWQUm3JhjkzJxa7_LwbjRBSWIhTE2-bUcXjJKSXyDGaHlG2u56GkdkBITUS5AePBsbiVOHrUU/s1600/fb_fenceCrossing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgns_5pg7EjRIfS6O8azemoqDS_tSTOCM0nfOAwXiAJaYGtMkDYhV2AndABghhe0y3-OCkWQUm3JhjkzJxa7_LwbjRBSWIhTE2-bUcXjJKSXyDGaHlG2u56GkdkBITUS5AePBsbiVOHrUU/s1600/fb_fenceCrossing.JPG" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlRJnrSnnwmfZkPTy2dlU8KUdQsV__U_BPM__vG_6USYFQY4v4sl2xCjXWFwDgcRdnN1hVZn4yBKoGlFhpPMiBt5myjBEMFRvKuAClmqB7VeRRbEKwHbzTyr8skIURI13dryedZTviB0/s1600/fb_valley.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlRJnrSnnwmfZkPTy2dlU8KUdQsV__U_BPM__vG_6USYFQY4v4sl2xCjXWFwDgcRdnN1hVZn4yBKoGlFhpPMiBt5myjBEMFRvKuAClmqB7VeRRbEKwHbzTyr8skIURI13dryedZTviB0/s1600/fb_valley.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the weathered sandstone hills closed in on each side</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDIXwxROYp4pLdqT95RcRcwaaV1bagM49J3p3JAE05eROYnniAak95VgC8DWPtW9EyZrwRgWtmw07unyiubpZC0A-2ipMd2mL_PotXUoI_ULL5g688AKruJj_7QHwYpziwufzZ-TmEBE/s1600/fb_cave2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDIXwxROYp4pLdqT95RcRcwaaV1bagM49J3p3JAE05eROYnniAak95VgC8DWPtW9EyZrwRgWtmw07unyiubpZC0A-2ipMd2mL_PotXUoI_ULL5g688AKruJj_7QHwYpziwufzZ-TmEBE/s1600/fb_cave2.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the valley floor remains in shadow, but sunlight catches the higher rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOxDuc6JYzqUTygRQcGMjvRGq68IjwNSnDBmj3D3Qe5uj974wf1vQ5kyUh2ljDJ__oju4ji5ifqT-n6_8V0S8RBkInQ0OTYVaojvjOkRLfH6Ho8tXyDAlHuYYIswXbhjB8lzw4N2bcYw/s1600/fb_rocks1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOxDuc6JYzqUTygRQcGMjvRGq68IjwNSnDBmj3D3Qe5uj974wf1vQ5kyUh2ljDJ__oju4ji5ifqT-n6_8V0S8RBkInQ0OTYVaojvjOkRLfH6Ho8tXyDAlHuYYIswXbhjB8lzw4N2bcYw/s1600/fb_rocks1.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">big rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jHfGz0a0eyXwxuGv5EVBgiRIHfzl76bBIA9iaQ8dtkhWfSz5MwVHgwHUh66h5YCytwiJ7yXCLHLfXNPZNdvS6X2_sYwEMQpI0bGHcACXmfXmNtSWkdPB-1bx61_XSDqLeGh-xSzCMSw/s1600/fb_rocks2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jHfGz0a0eyXwxuGv5EVBgiRIHfzl76bBIA9iaQ8dtkhWfSz5MwVHgwHUh66h5YCytwiJ7yXCLHLfXNPZNdvS6X2_sYwEMQpI0bGHcACXmfXmNtSWkdPB-1bx61_XSDqLeGh-xSzCMSw/s1600/fb_rocks2.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Really big rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQfFMjstTs73kPMzNPvnAo2sLrDsxbeNjRHpwHTnl3Si-9LxoE8rZpgKxu28pxRzoYbjxEe2PLi8qr6SUejGsfPpOQjKE2JwdiwvSY-yHv_FQnEGDFi2LRYvrpss7HpfRJ2gMBdxuNpY/s1600/fb_rocks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQfFMjstTs73kPMzNPvnAo2sLrDsxbeNjRHpwHTnl3Si-9LxoE8rZpgKxu28pxRzoYbjxEe2PLi8qr6SUejGsfPpOQjKE2JwdiwvSY-yHv_FQnEGDFi2LRYvrpss7HpfRJ2gMBdxuNpY/s1600/fb_rocks.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">more big rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeA0TjV-c1WfAER-u_z3NGlZbXEzlXbJQUDBPJU11QEWUJopzADzFpz8AfPK1fmiWfDVgNPGAlsu3XdjPhXGYd5-UoSidVbEyJVGHONTnCZe3WvJ9bkFvZONLEOBawHM3YH3b_MJ-UPxM/s1600/fb_frost3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeA0TjV-c1WfAER-u_z3NGlZbXEzlXbJQUDBPJU11QEWUJopzADzFpz8AfPK1fmiWfDVgNPGAlsu3XdjPhXGYd5-UoSidVbEyJVGHONTnCZe3WvJ9bkFvZONLEOBawHM3YH3b_MJ-UPxM/s1600/fb_frost3.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">past mid-day - and there's still frost in the shadows</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Although this was generally a fairly level walk, the energetically inclined scrambled up hills to inspect particularly interesting caves<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvlZzO8zSKANyTeQIIfIgAdii4QXISvCf-SLZOrqHuR3ixKIKo-Uqbc5rI710G4YQjo5g89kgwDami-d1xRXUTikNKXQsRRHobbtJ8x_ZOVnTcfKjbUX-1b01sl4NS96I96YbkUkhkc1I/s1600/fb_cave1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvlZzO8zSKANyTeQIIfIgAdii4QXISvCf-SLZOrqHuR3ixKIKo-Uqbc5rI710G4YQjo5g89kgwDami-d1xRXUTikNKXQsRRHobbtJ8x_ZOVnTcfKjbUX-1b01sl4NS96I96YbkUkhkc1I/s1600/fb_cave1.JPG" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGGh-B21E-I_lRDFGSSkETssz_zooNpFJGtc8y42NNhCd9X3HYCeBKE41D9mVB3aqNw4vvUQlXTGD3-yvKKeYMG0m8vShQMtiFri7sMoMtbumYMoU0KOqFJg9cUM5-giHX8YeaJoejUE/s1600/fb_lunchSpot.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiGGh-B21E-I_lRDFGSSkETssz_zooNpFJGtc8y42NNhCd9X3HYCeBKE41D9mVB3aqNw4vvUQlXTGD3-yvKKeYMG0m8vShQMtiFri7sMoMtbumYMoU0KOqFJg9cUM5-giHX8YeaJoejUE/s1600/fb_lunchSpot.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we stopped for lunch on a sunny hillside</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The trouble with living alone is nobody else will make your lunch. Today I invented a new game - Schroedinger's Lunchbox. While I didn't look in it, my lunchbox contained roast fowl, venison pastries, delicate salads, charlotte russe and a small bottle of white wine. Alas, when I opened it I found this:
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVh5igK1i_IbTuzMaCo2aPooMw37aUg0W84OwY_XkJ7saR29u8LcRQ1vAcUeCJ15nQse7GHQs8yraujvhEiyxSEQXoyR-ds1p8pDNlwfCWKK5dgMJN3K1229FA_fJh5u-javD28cn_FA/s1600/fb_lunch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVh5igK1i_IbTuzMaCo2aPooMw37aUg0W84OwY_XkJ7saR29u8LcRQ1vAcUeCJ15nQse7GHQs8yraujvhEiyxSEQXoyR-ds1p8pDNlwfCWKK5dgMJN3K1229FA_fJh5u-javD28cn_FA/s1600/fb_lunch.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">compulsory food shot </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Life is full of these little disappointments, but I wasn't going to let it spoil a lovely day.<br />
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Coffee in hand I followed several other people along a sheep track to a delightfully bijou cavelet a little higher up the hill.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbaL55bVlqhqbBiTUwj9mJiJVERRDwB_tDbDCiHotqs2fSX59PQkqZXfdJvxZI71nPi50TBTWSB5hDrJ-_lWKVKXU90H2-DYGkp4hzWDM84XkhIzt27mEG1DamhYI0f7cI1_hdWiHXys/s1600/fb_cave3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbaL55bVlqhqbBiTUwj9mJiJVERRDwB_tDbDCiHotqs2fSX59PQkqZXfdJvxZI71nPi50TBTWSB5hDrJ-_lWKVKXU90H2-DYGkp4hzWDM84XkhIzt27mEG1DamhYI0f7cI1_hdWiHXys/s1600/fb_cave3.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did remember to pick up my coffee mug</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPIaE2XGaT1IZliPQj36RAi4LkjbYj5dTKYXKF0rg3-AUayLn0U1YHmcxuaNTmrXhMLPX2QIYcwLcL_3q9AaadNwsvzf8DimZUY57TUwH6royTTZNZJy8KtqLFSaI0d_aferQINiysWo/s1600/fb_valley2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPIaE2XGaT1IZliPQj36RAi4LkjbYj5dTKYXKF0rg3-AUayLn0U1YHmcxuaNTmrXhMLPX2QIYcwLcL_3q9AaadNwsvzf8DimZUY57TUwH6royTTZNZJy8KtqLFSaI0d_aferQINiysWo/s1600/fb_valley2.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view from the cave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY2olGycrVEah9gtrCLO3hNmjdPnewvLB36L0E-a_yJum3m1e_oIHO3woNoiCcxHrDs0XVJ1_b1QF1rEioDj6ivYCwj2y-33ox6iZoHC_mK6hwIhdqDHKW05yqG1tZgCUGjytollvPyso/s1600/fb_tree.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY2olGycrVEah9gtrCLO3hNmjdPnewvLB36L0E-a_yJum3m1e_oIHO3woNoiCcxHrDs0XVJ1_b1QF1rEioDj6ivYCwj2y-33ox6iZoHC_mK6hwIhdqDHKW05yqG1tZgCUGjytollvPyso/s1600/fb_tree.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lone Blackwood</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulk3_o5mu3BoXZoBMFEergfShmImwGjDCjxO3UvkKJJTfWxm9fEnBNk6DFTZuCZysXKsaxB7-YifUifPZHDKsCLTI2sxpfWBea2-ZeVhNtElEEsHcrPrE2byCgrNZFeGcxBytVm7nxOI/s1600/fb_trees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulk3_o5mu3BoXZoBMFEergfShmImwGjDCjxO3UvkKJJTfWxm9fEnBNk6DFTZuCZysXKsaxB7-YifUifPZHDKsCLTI2sxpfWBea2-ZeVhNtElEEsHcrPrE2byCgrNZFeGcxBytVm7nxOI/s1600/fb_trees.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">as if I don't have enough photographs of rocks and trees</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjM0iRpcJiTB6yO65w1_4JM_54MxEiP7nMOx8U95j7DNktzYUyoyHorzIqwyxKMaltpPlEWiwjVwsMm_vZy069NWyH7TolQmXa6RT92n5B317ILOW1lTip68XetU1qZJlE9OCjGoJEAmk/s1600/fb_valley4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjM0iRpcJiTB6yO65w1_4JM_54MxEiP7nMOx8U95j7DNktzYUyoyHorzIqwyxKMaltpPlEWiwjVwsMm_vZy069NWyH7TolQmXa6RT92n5B317ILOW1lTip68XetU1qZJlE9OCjGoJEAmk/s1600/fb_valley4.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">FAQ of the day </span>"Do we really have to cross it here, or can we get around on this side?" </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQz2awHHFOETKiGcK4BdPNwnJUrASZYkRudjHAellcwLyB4PamyT-iVaTzx0aIcIRwQRfYxWtEy5MBslhyvkFpiDYijKp4iLwppQqRf8qcECm35gPVslyfIR8VzknnKEh8OHzhBxUv5E/s1600/fb_creekCrossing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQz2awHHFOETKiGcK4BdPNwnJUrASZYkRudjHAellcwLyB4PamyT-iVaTzx0aIcIRwQRfYxWtEy5MBslhyvkFpiDYijKp4iLwppQqRf8qcECm35gPVslyfIR8VzknnKEh8OHzhBxUv5E/s1600/fb_creekCrossing.JPG" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8fHFYlUbzf2mYdk0XO7d1oM2pdsuHIJoo55mPgqrfnklEZZXX8fnWsXm0m5QNkaBIRzDPU1nx7gC-ly1kgMW7zgxjzsXGq1VbGm1tiRxcgR9NKxRv0qMCWIh9nejLVxkoQwzyAQh8OY/s1600/fb_cattle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8fHFYlUbzf2mYdk0XO7d1oM2pdsuHIJoo55mPgqrfnklEZZXX8fnWsXm0m5QNkaBIRzDPU1nx7gC-ly1kgMW7zgxjzsXGq1VbGm1tiRxcgR9NKxRv0qMCWIh9nejLVxkoQwzyAQh8OY/s1600/fb_cattle.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">some cows wonder what we're doing in their paddock</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvkcTpdqZUuOu2OO-GFUftsPhIc4fID-l3U8HF28VXydMEaM_6MKTfps91jRTYRN72WBK6ODZlBsYzi43CS5u2iArBKqzqw9qZNV3uYTT8mA8U4li_J9_Xl5Mn_KzUjX1jDqiIGTpq-Q/s1600/fb_valley3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvkcTpdqZUuOu2OO-GFUftsPhIc4fID-l3U8HF28VXydMEaM_6MKTfps91jRTYRN72WBK6ODZlBsYzi43CS5u2iArBKqzqw9qZNV3uYTT8mA8U4li_J9_Xl5Mn_KzUjX1jDqiIGTpq-Q/s1600/fb_valley3.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the end of the valley in sight</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the end of the valley we joined the route of the convict-built coach road from Kempton to Lovely Banks. This runs through another rocky gorge called Murderers Gully, ostensibly where bushrangers held up the odd coach. It is certainly an isolated, unfriendly place to have to travel through and a great place for an ambush. In the 1820s Major Bell changed the route to somewhere near the present line of the Midlands Highway, through more open country, but some people still seem to have used the Serpentine Valley road.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1xS7s4dJZQPvr1Bjnb5saIxSJ9oLDOVFTYh0CyNeFp8l_2FwlEgOayJ2sVKpseNNB_oqhWgc7aHHckySAHUyMa09IbDwE1bMTEm3-BuR7ozCNgS9eFd4OjAY_C0C1RUR2RYHOLSQx1k/s1600/fb_MurderersGully.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1xS7s4dJZQPvr1Bjnb5saIxSJ9oLDOVFTYh0CyNeFp8l_2FwlEgOayJ2sVKpseNNB_oqhWgc7aHHckySAHUyMa09IbDwE1bMTEm3-BuR7ozCNgS9eFd4OjAY_C0C1RUR2RYHOLSQx1k/s1600/fb_MurderersGully.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">entering Murderers Gully</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVg2mPeytHwHCS1ln-nsToNl4kIiSPwOCTvR0g5dNlNLtqqfWFX_MmmCc_w4tDaWeP24HKvUKREUzH_3Fy9wBrBxMFqwIH_kxUo0PIGoMsDzqzihUZbQa33fbYoeLWVlAyRO-tMo17MNI/s1600/fb_MurderersGully1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVg2mPeytHwHCS1ln-nsToNl4kIiSPwOCTvR0g5dNlNLtqqfWFX_MmmCc_w4tDaWeP24HKvUKREUzH_3Fy9wBrBxMFqwIH_kxUo0PIGoMsDzqzihUZbQa33fbYoeLWVlAyRO-tMo17MNI/s1600/fb_MurderersGully1.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we looked in vain for convict remains but alas, there is barely even a trace of the old road left</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSPAeEP9ZzKKHXj-Sjx6R0y5WmCSiC5f8_2f_PhRSQY_djKJKP4JMPPmMmO6JoWUier9VW0JbhC2FZwzpUYdxClCXQk1WrQ-bQ2i6RLQ28A4YRijXYQeWf5nNE4GCcfWNHvo86z4hBl4/s1600/fb_MurderersGully2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSPAeEP9ZzKKHXj-Sjx6R0y5WmCSiC5f8_2f_PhRSQY_djKJKP4JMPPmMmO6JoWUier9VW0JbhC2FZwzpUYdxClCXQk1WrQ-bQ2i6RLQ28A4YRijXYQeWf5nNE4GCcfWNHvo86z4hBl4/s1600/fb_MurderersGully2.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
In <i>Highway in Van Diemens Land</i>, G. Hawley Stancombe wrote "Nearby and to the east lies the curious Serpentine Valley . . . It rejoined the Main Road at the foot of Spring Hill, but was too narrow for carts, being a narrow defile between steep cliffs."<br />
<br />
Robert Knopwood travelled to the Tamar in 1814. He described Stony, or Serpentine Valley, as "a beautiful valley but should you meet with the natives you must inevitably loose [sic] your life the hills of each pass so high that they would kill you with stones." <br />
<br />
Governor Macquarie went this way when he travelled on horseback from Hobart-Town to Port Dalrymple in 1811. With a cavalcade of officials and a military escort to accompany them, they would have had little fear of attack.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PR2e2f8dnw7V71UFOfQmA2wduUgbpnPSPd5RPeGJ05WIaBhL3F_acGmF8XL2z3-E7gaTOHCuyHUKhPGT9PwLEKXhj1yvnPdjboPSiMxfYa7i-t58RE1Y9tWsn-gRxVsf2CexcvR6pq8/s1600/fb_hill.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PR2e2f8dnw7V71UFOfQmA2wduUgbpnPSPd5RPeGJ05WIaBhL3F_acGmF8XL2z3-E7gaTOHCuyHUKhPGT9PwLEKXhj1yvnPdjboPSiMxfYa7i-t58RE1Y9tWsn-gRxVsf2CexcvR6pq8/s1600/fb_hill.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">up another optional hill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Dbo-fjj3FHZ5CFl8zk5aJDO-_bQKmb7vblZcaUNpETK9h-XEcHbx5yQYIbnEgXeOjYImbP1OlxHd_NUv09UJxGFN59KXNvdnWrxwj6xmQGoAOTpDn4fGy0md9bxhFPAj4AyRmOHtMMg/s1600/fb_cave4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Dbo-fjj3FHZ5CFl8zk5aJDO-_bQKmb7vblZcaUNpETK9h-XEcHbx5yQYIbnEgXeOjYImbP1OlxHd_NUv09UJxGFN59KXNvdnWrxwj6xmQGoAOTpDn4fGy0md9bxhFPAj4AyRmOHtMMg/s1600/fb_cave4.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a magnificent cave at the top</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbMtcDAfjwELWguQY9ZoAqWMrurAQbl1KNOBMh9aBw_girEzVVrU2dsp7LzyFQYIzsPFMuCvHldDqBu8IMLGvV0LqgLmSdgeAf6HZlQ2PJ68M2foEvX-uGyU_-QwWCzL5QowM2WSo8tw/s1600/fb_lair.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbMtcDAfjwELWguQY9ZoAqWMrurAQbl1KNOBMh9aBw_girEzVVrU2dsp7LzyFQYIzsPFMuCvHldDqBu8IMLGvV0LqgLmSdgeAf6HZlQ2PJ68M2foEvX-uGyU_-QwWCzL5QowM2WSo8tw/s1600/fb_lair.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and the den of a Tasmanian Devil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
One of my forebears was the District Police officer at Kempton (then Green Ponds) in the 1830s; he would have been familiar with the road through this dark valley. Another hired out his bullock team to Governor Macquarie for his second trip to Port Dalrymple in 1821.<br />
<br />
Many of my ancestors lived at Ross, Oatlands, Jericho and Parattah and some travelled frequently to Hobart.<br />
<br />
I tried to imagine my great-great-great-great grandmother here in a small horse-drawn conveyance late on a winter afternoon; what warm clothing would she be wearing? Would she have a soft possum-skin rug to wrap around her knees? And would she and her companion be urging their pony to trot faster, fearing that at any moment some rough character or a group of aborigines would leap down upon them from the enclosing hills?<br />
<br />
We had no such things to bother us. We encountered nothing more terrifying than a large black bull who was not too sure whether we should be in his territory, but did no more than snort and paw the ground as we passed.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltONKPnM-7JIdtdBYFb3OZ13idJT0lzTSIv7KPjld4Lulvjgt1TT4Shy4m-VlUSIfXxRiGpWkCNNAdO514xZne4ZY1Xj5b3fgkA2qnM8IxbBOMMntJ6qTvgsrnQ8UwgzfwQ14p05h89k/s1600/fb_MurderersGully3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltONKPnM-7JIdtdBYFb3OZ13idJT0lzTSIv7KPjld4Lulvjgt1TT4Shy4m-VlUSIfXxRiGpWkCNNAdO514xZne4ZY1Xj5b3fgkA2qnM8IxbBOMMntJ6qTvgsrnQ8UwgzfwQ14p05h89k/s1600/fb_MurderersGully3.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">there is some evidence of roadworks here</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ua54LNCQnX63_L_sABb0UAXFi6zjv_j6YYIsffvddCHVRitBlv1S0sOcJiqM2RRDMAn5D6hQn8HuWTXSYO-oKErM0uIzzRiRqAMmuqAIBfepzIsQk2QVD3IL1pGcFqennoGi7DpdyIY/s1600/fb_bull.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="429" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ua54LNCQnX63_L_sABb0UAXFi6zjv_j6YYIsffvddCHVRitBlv1S0sOcJiqM2RRDMAn5D6hQn8HuWTXSYO-oKErM0uIzzRiRqAMmuqAIBfepzIsQk2QVD3IL1pGcFqennoGi7DpdyIY/s1600/fb_bull.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the bull didn't seem exactly overjoyed to see us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOzOoQtKPmjWImy8_D2uTLdhQ8-QWMU4K-lUmwfI9z0IbmPOcPVVb2d8X3hv9wQX9B4GaVSJ5xCqZ83TQqkPuEg62mqxtvUE3GZAX6hHvEhDu5l3dMzqysbDPUiqlBw9wFqagV0seP_4/s1600/fb_MurderersGully4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioOzOoQtKPmjWImy8_D2uTLdhQ8-QWMU4K-lUmwfI9z0IbmPOcPVVb2d8X3hv9wQX9B4GaVSJ5xCqZ83TQqkPuEg62mqxtvUE3GZAX6hHvEhDu5l3dMzqysbDPUiqlBw9wFqagV0seP_4/s1600/fb_MurderersGully4.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the end of the gully must have been a welcome sight for coachmen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINuFGWuEDyZ1-qMDFxpbadRXy4FYhyphenhyphenAjI56lHdPFas319wA8blk9owztC2NNIyuhK8Xbec8t-6N0eiJ0xSyyMSYaqX1nzn_XLKw3Nd_oq_JsYEViEzpmNfhHI14GQkeAmZZuFAt5-vWk/s1600/fb_lookingBack.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="365" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjINuFGWuEDyZ1-qMDFxpbadRXy4FYhyphenhyphenAjI56lHdPFas319wA8blk9owztC2NNIyuhK8Xbec8t-6N0eiJ0xSyyMSYaqX1nzn_XLKw3Nd_oq_JsYEViEzpmNfhHI14GQkeAmZZuFAt5-vWk/s1600/fb_lookingBack.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">looking back up Murderers Gully from the safety of open country</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrmgGjF1FVzDkXuXcwsJuCFEOEQSUrXRqmT_Qq9AwSeOWPYiZe4jxhGPfVWZHEkk0FGvBwe0J-Wntcvx4sQG8HhkToN4ex4E4ro3tuO7fgfai2U4MSh0nycenJww8V4LhMq8aNjTA1EtI/s1600/fb_moon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrmgGjF1FVzDkXuXcwsJuCFEOEQSUrXRqmT_Qq9AwSeOWPYiZe4jxhGPfVWZHEkk0FGvBwe0J-Wntcvx4sQG8HhkToN4ex4E4ro3tuO7fgfai2U4MSh0nycenJww8V4LhMq8aNjTA1EtI/s1600/fb_moon.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the moon in the early afternoon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com1Unnamed Road, Melton Mowbray TAS 7030, Australia-42.463301839837669 147.22250305624993-42.556993839837666 147.06114155624994 -42.369609839837672 147.38386455624993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-60734511660403543192017-06-25T00:39:00.000+10:002017-06-25T00:39:12.675+10:00Another Winter Festival<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Dark
Mofo finished last weekend – but that's not the only festival that
brightens up a Tasmanian winter.</span></h4>
<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">LANTERNS FOR PEACE</span></h3>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">
It
was a chilly evening, but a large group of people turned out at
Cornelian Bay for the Multicultural
Council of Tasmania's celebration of Refugee Week. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Earlier
this month I spent two Sundays at the Red Cross office in Melville
Street with a horde of enthusiastic lantern-making volunteers. </span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Naomi, designer, instructor, and terrifyingly efficient person,
managed to organise a motley crowd of all ages and levels of ability
wielding strips of gaffer tape, five-metre lengths of cane, and
various sharp implements in a confined space.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The following weekend
we came back and worked with buckets and brushes of glue, grease-proof
paper and lots of people milling around in the same confined space.
What could possibly go wrong?</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
somehow nobody ended up seriously injured or wallpapered to the
ceiling, nobody put their foot in a bucket of water, and we succeeded
in transforming cane and paper into five big lanterns – a leafy sea
dragon, lighthouse, sea turtle, dove and pelican. </span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I've
been looking forward to seeing them in action – and tonight it
happened. Here are the pictures:</span></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD0_-MuAAw-0xTiJiKZGoKPZCoXvgtojQaImGSvq-znNl6eyjdnEUlxZqa6npl_7MCm1tSeUgM0nLBv5Sr5_K1JhDyLxotMom7_yIf-mvj6Mv_g2j6pWTK3WEnlRgMkn_QGWYlUMPhgQ/s1600/fb_choir.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="407" data-original-width="600" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD0_-MuAAw-0xTiJiKZGoKPZCoXvgtojQaImGSvq-znNl6eyjdnEUlxZqa6npl_7MCm1tSeUgM0nLBv5Sr5_K1JhDyLxotMom7_yIf-mvj6Mv_g2j6pWTK3WEnlRgMkn_QGWYlUMPhgQ/s400/fb_choir.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the choir</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJqOg1NR-m2r3hf9Vc_b9DWug7U2GR0zdWtpmVTX7S11vKujIAiT4Jo6mOPQqJcXo5LlaVi2PJx_9r_BLMKNDKo6vi8SpsoMK4O7Y6WJ-7kAX6xaeO-u3FykIG6QO9PPEA3GHEDeIUoM/s1600/fb_barbecue.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJqOg1NR-m2r3hf9Vc_b9DWug7U2GR0zdWtpmVTX7S11vKujIAiT4Jo6mOPQqJcXo5LlaVi2PJx_9r_BLMKNDKo6vi8SpsoMK4O7Y6WJ-7kAX6xaeO-u3FykIG6QO9PPEA3GHEDeIUoM/s400/fb_barbecue.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ready for the onslaught</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ws0J7r9mxFVYwYzCveLrsk4fCxT1EzbYhsF7GPaaCSkulrtkQt7nJCIKNlDBXOTaph8eujMnILwdZ3Y2GwYtwdd2i5vLBnWZeQwF6jGM19gjMmMFVZxIfxGhmBc2x9AQ7yDby8wkAco/s1600/fb_dogs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="578" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ws0J7r9mxFVYwYzCveLrsk4fCxT1EzbYhsF7GPaaCSkulrtkQt7nJCIKNlDBXOTaph8eujMnILwdZ3Y2GwYtwdd2i5vLBnWZeQwF6jGM19gjMmMFVZxIfxGhmBc2x9AQ7yDby8wkAco/s400/fb_dogs.JPG" width="385" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">onlookers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1HyFK99d_6yCgDMLj0XQKWmqxcczR_xb8mhNkHAc25HsgOH-jZtkwusThOdNn874Og8Kqa5bylDbtqN43ZifT6ZRSLASaVW7W-_qCWwUnzqYKTrMIWnSgikOglOk7ql4vn-M4uDo11g/s1600/fb_drummers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1HyFK99d_6yCgDMLj0XQKWmqxcczR_xb8mhNkHAc25HsgOH-jZtkwusThOdNn874Og8Kqa5bylDbtqN43ZifT6ZRSLASaVW7W-_qCWwUnzqYKTrMIWnSgikOglOk7ql4vn-M4uDo11g/s400/fb_drummers.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the drummers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6r6fbgiLXI5EgdPFl0UvR0glgM1P2UODTi_O61ObmOHioxFnRFY-CxjY8v5zLMmwRRVGguCPhhHPLGBns1zlyjOJrnNGHsRZU39UAEcIbD8vGw16MWWcGdjnz_oReJDx37i6KpQI8m9U/s1600/fb_giraffes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="600" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6r6fbgiLXI5EgdPFl0UvR0glgM1P2UODTi_O61ObmOHioxFnRFY-CxjY8v5zLMmwRRVGguCPhhHPLGBns1zlyjOJrnNGHsRZU39UAEcIbD8vGw16MWWcGdjnz_oReJDx37i6KpQI8m9U/s400/fb_giraffes.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the dancers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKi9S-utyIINTxRt1mKjllmxOUe-NEJPN3k66P-J9Xv9V3XhBAEeCz8kCuPGNi-FDiQs0-Hi3L4Uo8mDyHZGccwRCUNtI2co5lQpqjjH8HIkpTTLFmFah5ZUlDsKZxVlsgbB8hBuz4TA/s1600/fb_pelican.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="600" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKi9S-utyIINTxRt1mKjllmxOUe-NEJPN3k66P-J9Xv9V3XhBAEeCz8kCuPGNi-FDiQs0-Hi3L4Uo8mDyHZGccwRCUNtI2co5lQpqjjH8HIkpTTLFmFah5ZUlDsKZxVlsgbB8hBuz4TA/s400/fb_pelican.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">so here's the lantern I worked on - with many other people, I hasten to add</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FBdYuPG3WiPBgprPSyMlqChCCxiYkF5d2z1mabcEzSVTZMfGLAccDL7eN04QAMKnHQhvuO9MUnoWR7F_U-bFVHyRknu9scgPz_4cAaJBI_u_9miN2gDBvj6kD_MuRCj7ORwnkVj38yg/s1600/fb_floatingLanterns.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FBdYuPG3WiPBgprPSyMlqChCCxiYkF5d2z1mabcEzSVTZMfGLAccDL7eN04QAMKnHQhvuO9MUnoWR7F_U-bFVHyRknu9scgPz_4cAaJBI_u_9miN2gDBvj6kD_MuRCj7ORwnkVj38yg/s400/fb_floatingLanterns.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and here are the rest of them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGokVREk__53SsDVIUABplcMNqOGeaIHAmMezxqnHOEiow4YuiclAk3XB489FwiDsxyRFos5j4SkDf7W9TOz35Oyoa1dxLZNmcx3FfSZu7TigAeSJDCd5wxirDaG8CbpgoJv2HGjUBf0/s1600/fb_pelican2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="600" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGokVREk__53SsDVIUABplcMNqOGeaIHAmMezxqnHOEiow4YuiclAk3XB489FwiDsxyRFos5j4SkDf7W9TOz35Oyoa1dxLZNmcx3FfSZu7TigAeSJDCd5wxirDaG8CbpgoJv2HGjUBf0/s400/fb_pelican2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO4sFEPYa8MvPoNKMrrSxcPFkhfnxxBNBsVXc-9SWzCmPa1fq8wlFPigl-REjxRcL6i6KSPLkxeZHH1omsubEQh-Z4tWpJai4VTNIvs30953KPvx3YOnEfrERunU9LST7IE83LuR4k5k/s1600/fb_seaDragon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="600" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO4sFEPYa8MvPoNKMrrSxcPFkhfnxxBNBsVXc-9SWzCmPa1fq8wlFPigl-REjxRcL6i6KSPLkxeZHH1omsubEQh-Z4tWpJai4VTNIvs30953KPvx3YOnEfrERunU9LST7IE83LuR4k5k/s400/fb_seaDragon.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lit up - it's almost dark enough to see the pretty lights</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmOHNyJmmv3e-ciedHoQ0kUxYY9mySwoGvM69F4PHZgDPsT4mIUOdLbzjjGEilhBmbVnODGfAmGFFV3cFujBWGExqH1mMJ7wCMFcVAvPCT1uwAPpz454Tp4r9grfkYEMl37RTFsoeXM0/s1600/fb_LucyCutting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="438" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmOHNyJmmv3e-ciedHoQ0kUxYY9mySwoGvM69F4PHZgDPsT4mIUOdLbzjjGEilhBmbVnODGfAmGFFV3cFujBWGExqH1mMJ7wCMFcVAvPCT1uwAPpz454Tp4r9grfkYEMl37RTFsoeXM0/s400/fb_LucyCutting.JPG" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucie Cutting, who did all the organising, opens proceedings</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
My camera doesn't have a lot of fancy settings, being the cheapest one I could buy (within reason) so I had to take an awful lot of photos to get these two. They're still not very good, but you get a bit of an idea.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O_d_H3x1_ogVRwdFssd95wDdS2eciqgFhQUC_JUqK3lwGvegbTQ3kt56ZWI7q3ZtciFqgks9TCziP84y2vZ6SGWFiLjVR4bHbKQvCPLQaBx6hroxIpcMi6Cx8UVblLns3uq2NLCWpvA/s1600/fb_lanterns.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="600" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O_d_H3x1_ogVRwdFssd95wDdS2eciqgFhQUC_JUqK3lwGvegbTQ3kt56ZWI7q3ZtciFqgks9TCziP84y2vZ6SGWFiLjVR4bHbKQvCPLQaBx6hroxIpcMi6Cx8UVblLns3uq2NLCWpvA/s320/fb_lanterns.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
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<div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKcDUxy4gGNrVhbggfYI8d68kp4JiTQQyLMkwwjkgPzcRxrc8X-Gaid48I3e9NDIM0nVxoO-DGxngtskVpz71PtpYXezjkKwKSVhQRkvVAMK3bAyZB6Vlf5JLdqAbTMfi0_jpTWMOxl4/s1600/fb_lanterns2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="246" data-original-width="400" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKcDUxy4gGNrVhbggfYI8d68kp4JiTQQyLMkwwjkgPzcRxrc8X-Gaid48I3e9NDIM0nVxoO-DGxngtskVpz71PtpYXezjkKwKSVhQRkvVAMK3bAyZB6Vlf5JLdqAbTMfi0_jpTWMOxl4/s320/fb_lanterns2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE3EleeZ6pMi2PGwvd67OLginV9KgbUr50gm5F6F79ZjblLf8gI7EB2mCPu7tZnRqycjOgfagA9a_SaDvmbaPkoOjL8weAKzFCVeYwuZ9Gv_oZcmaAzWDUAdgcWtR6bYPzqfukxCEiKU/s1600/fb_pelican4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE3EleeZ6pMi2PGwvd67OLginV9KgbUr50gm5F6F79ZjblLf8gI7EB2mCPu7tZnRqycjOgfagA9a_SaDvmbaPkoOjL8weAKzFCVeYwuZ9Gv_oZcmaAzWDUAdgcWtR6bYPzqfukxCEiKU/s400/fb_pelican4.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oh look - the pelican again!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
And last of all, this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwmNIkQQfVQNS-qfmYIHhwXIJopCuWujuYm6eWx2JxLlwtH58uGOyvfa1tpJrDPRlL-h3Zo4a-apuRx07QFFQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com1Gas Rd, New Town TAS 7008, Australia-42.850934948733794 147.32170173593749-42.8742219487338 147.28136123593748 -42.827647948733791 147.36204223593751tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-24897295562283171492017-06-14T01:39:00.000+10:002017-06-14T01:39:14.923+10:00DARK MOFO 2017 - I make my debut as a performer<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Two Performances</h3>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Imagine. You are brought to an open field on the edge of an island on the edge of the Southern Ocean. In the centre of the field stand eight rows of black plastic chairs in a cleared rectangle of dark earth but you are not invited to sit. Your group, people you have never met, assembles in a semicircle around the chairs. It is long past midnight. The moon, just past its full, slides behind a dark cloud. You can hear waves breaking on the beach. Nobody speaks. You begin to wait.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBRl6yftt7wgl74Tsw5-TjhsUgMZtc1tkNHl8mQenaAadBwODOr-OJC8dVBFiPkQ19vN5PjL-Bq74ZL-D9oHt6uJkZUd2yBXYX4WYJ3Kbp_oVPVyr-VJkZs7hKQYJGdPD_FyLowL09Q8/s1600/islandDwg002_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="300" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBRl6yftt7wgl74Tsw5-TjhsUgMZtc1tkNHl8mQenaAadBwODOr-OJC8dVBFiPkQ19vN5PjL-Bq74ZL-D9oHt6uJkZUd2yBXYX4WYJ3Kbp_oVPVyr-VJkZs7hKQYJGdPD_FyLowL09Q8/s200/islandDwg002_sm.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Lights are bobbing across the field, approaching. A chant, distant on the breeze: “One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.” The voice calling cadence is cracked, the timing irregular. A cloud passes and sudden moonlight reveals a ragged column of people, four abreast, not shuffling, but not marching either; no-one could march to that uneven beat. The crowd parts to let them through and the caller falls silent. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
Quietly, people file in to occupy the chairs, and now you see they are old. Senior citizens in their night clothes, dark dressing gowns over regulation striped pyjamas, grey hair escaping from identical black beanies. Grandmothers and grandfathers dragged from their institutional beds to confront the Hour of the Wolf in a windswept field. Another cloud drifts across the moon as the lights go out. Waiting resumes.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There is a click, tentative. Another, hesitant. A third, then a rising clatter of percussive sound. Sparks flash between the ancient fingers. Seventy two pairs of wrinkled hands, seventy two pairs of quartz pebbles from the seashore rise and fall. A rhythm builds, accelerates, breaks apart, a new one forms. Light follows shadow as clouds obscure and reveal the waning moon. The clack of rock striking rock goes on, and on, relentless as the waves striking the beach. Patterns of light and sound are mesmerising, primal. The old folk are absorbed in their pointless occupation, striking sparks from stones. Minutes pass, become an hour.<br />
<br />
A shock when the noise suddenly ceases. Carefully, reverently, the performers place their white stones on the dark soil in front of them, rise and file silently away. The caller resumes - “One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four”; a better cadence this time. As the column vanishes into the darkness you are left with the moonlight and the ocean.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A passing speedboat shatters the mood.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It's winter again, and that means Dark MoFo, Hobart's feast of noise and light, of music, film, theatre, art exhibitions and amazing food. The performance on Bruny Island was <i>Empty Ocean,</i> Mike Parr's latest creation. I was one of the seventy two participants.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
At MONA a new exhibition opened on Saturday – <i>The Museum of Everything</i>. It is a maze of gallery spaces chock full of sculpture and painting created by so-called “outsider” artists, by artists who are intent on expressing their opinions and emotions regardless of prevailing movements and fashions in contemporary art. Here are no self-conscious intellectuals rebelling against their art-school training; these artists are totally serious and sincere. For many of them theories of art, traditional art making materials and techniques, and often the entire “art world”, are simply irrelevant. Some don't even think of themselves as artists; they just make stuff. Like the best punk rock, it's often raw and confronting. Some pieces are incredibly beautiful; some so bad they're brilliant. All are fascinating, challenging and thought-provoking.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbA4i78QAYTpwf4PoiYfXyrbzYYKF14vB4u2Lu7g14rK9FW9S_7Ht5KrUfHDy1WpteWAmPwbg7ZKR2goB_R2XL3fMSQK9CzgJwGzK41qWyFY7HEws_Yo0_gsbz5GtWwmxUX35VPDT7fuM/s1600/EPF_7406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1348" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbA4i78QAYTpwf4PoiYfXyrbzYYKF14vB4u2Lu7g14rK9FW9S_7Ht5KrUfHDy1WpteWAmPwbg7ZKR2goB_R2XL3fMSQK9CzgJwGzK41qWyFY7HEws_Yo0_gsbz5GtWwmxUX35VPDT7fuM/s320/EPF_7406.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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The entertainment at the opening must have followed this do-it-yourself aesthetic for I was invited to perform as part of <i>Gunshy Polyphony</i>, a group of seven singers. </div>
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I am the old lady in the front pew who sings all the hymns very loudly, out of tune and probably in the wrong key, but today the emphasis was on dissonance. I can do that. We improvised vocal polyphonies while strolling around showing off the most fabulous luxury fake-fur coats from Melbourne designer Kathryn Jamieson. </div>
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Her <i>Gunshy</i> label is attracting attention world wide and fans include Wutang Clan and Conchita Wurst. This collection certainly attracted attention on the MONA tennis court. Not me in the photo, I hasten to add – but I was lucky enough to wear this coat.</div>
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You can see the rest of the collection here <a href="http://www.gunshy.com.au/category/pimp-it-bitch-collection-aw16-high-end-range">http://www.gunshy.com.au/category/pimp-it-bitch-collection-aw16-high-end-range</a></div>
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These two experiences could not have been more different. Those of you who are actors or performance artists no doubt take all this in your stride, but I am a visual artist. I spend my time locked away alone in the studio, only occasionally emerging to show myself at an exhibition of my paintings.</div>
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Performing in public is a new and exciting experience, not least the “dressing up” part. Kathryn's coats lift the spirits; they are so frivolous and extravagant they just made me happy. In one of her coats I could do anything – even sing! Getting into costume in the hall on Bruny Island had the opposite effect. I suddenly felt uncomfortably diminished, institutionalised; nobody is a hero in striped flannelette pyjamas.</div>
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Several of the performers were fellow members of the Hobart Walking Club. We are used to seeing each other with backpacks and stout boots, covered in mud and leeches, scrambling over rocks and logs half way up a mountain. Now we looked like a lot of non-descript geriatrics and I kept thinking of Art Spiegelman's famous graphic novel <i>Maus.</i> In fact, Mike Parr made a point of reminding us we were all born around the end of the Second World War, and referred to Nazi death marches. However, he also talked about positive things, like the significance of the number seventy two - it's Mike's age – and being a child playing games with his brother, striking sparks from pieces of flint. And he exhorted us to go out there proudly. We did. And it felt great.</div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Hobart TAS 7000, Australia-42.8821377 147.3271949-42.905408200000004 147.28685439999998 -42.8588672 147.3675354tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-85228114642389439042017-06-08T01:02:00.001+10:002017-06-08T01:02:37.873+10:00The Falls in WinterWinter in Tasmania is THE BEST time to go walking; the days are short, but the sun shines and the sky is blue. There is a crispness in the air that makes you want to get out and stretch your legs.<br />
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Today's stroll from Bennetts Road to Kermandie Falls along the old Hartz Track certainly stretched everything. <br />
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Here is the walk description from the Hobart Walking Club circular:<br />
<i>This is the middle section of the historic Kermandie Track which goes from Geeveston to Hartz Peak. Damaged forestry roads have been a problem so our approach to this middle section ending at Kermandie Falls will be from Bennetts Road going downhill to the falls. When we are feeling weary, we will return uphill to the cars. The track goes through magnificent forest with mosses, fungi and even lyrebirds. The final kilometre of the track has a number of fallen trees to negotiate but the forests and the falls make it all worthwhile.</i><br />
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Every word of it is true, right down to the lyrebirds - not only spotted crossing the road as we drove into the forest, but keeping us entertained with a rich variety of melodious calls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">plunging into the forest from Bennetts Road</td></tr>
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Many of the logs we encountered had been cut nicely - but many more had not. For some reason every photograph I took of people climbing over logs had a bad case of camera wobble, so you'll just have to believe me when I tell you much of the walk consisted of crawling under or scrambling over fallen logs of varying degrees of slipperiness and complexity.</div>
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A stretch of cutting grass and mud<br />
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Some very soggy button grass<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">there's still ice on the water . . .</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and frost on the button grass where the sun has only just reached it</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are back in the forest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">out of the creek and over a log</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">late in the season, but a bit of Climbing Heath (Prionotes Cerenthoides) is still hanging in there</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">morning tea</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I believe there was once a tramway for hauling logs through here</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt1CxZmL_HHe1VhJX2MSuJDzqPGqODQk-tqnSmuc2-amkQbyQTl-B9ajgPSuent61DykXgZU58NJdcmjxV6Q-ZyEpD8fV6OTDJFBN1kcW04lbc3JCTsgaD4qqNgV2APYVeOHKuZ_UJdg/s1600/fb_DSCN5136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkt1CxZmL_HHe1VhJX2MSuJDzqPGqODQk-tqnSmuc2-amkQbyQTl-B9ajgPSuent61DykXgZU58NJdcmjxV6Q-ZyEpD8fV6OTDJFBN1kcW04lbc3JCTsgaD4qqNgV2APYVeOHKuZ_UJdg/s1600/fb_DSCN5136.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here and there a huge stump still shows a scarf cut by early twentieth century loggers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhkKf6iBDNVw2wsSkjdG7yEKDy_dqDAmDYjRaX6JrmMKeCNadVmhsdiqLWRbmuLrXvmGk5A8Lk-8iuCwK0W3AoQ4bhyCiIIwPDcuZY-lwuYkAztPRan48Dow6cyK5hzYPr0bE85zYtRc/s1600/fb_DSCN5137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhkKf6iBDNVw2wsSkjdG7yEKDy_dqDAmDYjRaX6JrmMKeCNadVmhsdiqLWRbmuLrXvmGk5A8Lk-8iuCwK0W3AoQ4bhyCiIIwPDcuZY-lwuYkAztPRan48Dow6cyK5hzYPr0bE85zYtRc/s1600/fb_DSCN5137.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this stump has built itself a palisade</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5gOZxsK2pP47Q9fPoOgiYJfzV2VLw_4vaAPIfKWtRrzwVbMcpgPownb0wGRE8Bjm2VQ_HHvsRYIQfSzRbuYQcoLbvaVOFaL_AzrXBjS5zYq8KOOhIzHJ2L0Isjw2FZzsVwQEsmWgTCU/s1600/fb_DSCN5127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5gOZxsK2pP47Q9fPoOgiYJfzV2VLw_4vaAPIfKWtRrzwVbMcpgPownb0wGRE8Bjm2VQ_HHvsRYIQfSzRbuYQcoLbvaVOFaL_AzrXBjS5zYq8KOOhIzHJ2L0Isjw2FZzsVwQEsmWgTCU/s1600/fb_DSCN5127.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">for the fungi lovers</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp2tUAosopJhfWhUV7qy9BZ2LWqgOZYnwNxJJIofCF6PPy_dbb_3GJlcD2A57LM9hC0oavDGS5ckdYGKzYrNY2TYnYk9sG7QMVvgA-eBEbvAlrhBqcYOC1YCsE5rzhwIpM3dMgBcmi64/s1600/fb_DSCN5134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp2tUAosopJhfWhUV7qy9BZ2LWqgOZYnwNxJJIofCF6PPy_dbb_3GJlcD2A57LM9hC0oavDGS5ckdYGKzYrNY2TYnYk9sG7QMVvgA-eBEbvAlrhBqcYOC1YCsE5rzhwIpM3dMgBcmi64/s1600/fb_DSCN5134.JPG" /></a></div>
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<br />
Leaving the main track, we plunge off down a steep slope to the falls. Lots of tree roots to slip on, plenty of things to scramble over, under and through.<br />
<br />
<br />
Towards the bottom an even steeper, slippery track along the side of a deep, dark gully brings us to our destination.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI95O1_qMs6Comc_6NqN4U6O2IlDbLW6IYgdD5jYNtIIiOFEXdetL1XS8FRJk7gDwnjHcn0KqPA30lvrYMXran0vz2s4Ky9LZ3eABqGIw2yVva0WRcktKK4pma-GVG04PZpJE_P81Sa3g/s1600/fb_DSCN5129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI95O1_qMs6Comc_6NqN4U6O2IlDbLW6IYgdD5jYNtIIiOFEXdetL1XS8FRJk7gDwnjHcn0KqPA30lvrYMXran0vz2s4Ky9LZ3eABqGIw2yVva0WRcktKK4pma-GVG04PZpJE_P81Sa3g/s1600/fb_DSCN5129.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lunch at Kermandie Falls</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhP4Fa8cuxpk0zLqMt2knxrgMvI1ZeeEqauKvc_0JGX17SiIpRydIOhMTdLFAI-bY95p_4lFgPDKZd540__COuqq_ujj0X9M8dHXfb54jFmlFvrNzFQBw6WazVV1EMOvMvkwDMIt6lhM/s1600/fb_DSCN5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhP4Fa8cuxpk0zLqMt2knxrgMvI1ZeeEqauKvc_0JGX17SiIpRydIOhMTdLFAI-bY95p_4lFgPDKZd540__COuqq_ujj0X9M8dHXfb54jFmlFvrNzFQBw6WazVV1EMOvMvkwDMIt6lhM/s1600/fb_DSCN5133.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tangled logs at the foot of the falls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Terrifying to imagine the force that swept these logs into the valley.<br />
<br />
<br />
Having lunched, we retraced our steps. Up the hills, over and under the logs, across the creeks, through the mud . . .<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81NEOZAnurgn6YF_jzbf_QfTkCXl6yBiv-itO3yGlpJdoMx8SZPzr1SsyRxmI_zRTKAKQDoH6k7In0RiCiWukFu1xUulSKphBdpeVyj2Mb2kJwMgvsEpzmyOtmSAMB6JEPA-ZWAerl1Q/s1600/fb_DSCN5139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81NEOZAnurgn6YF_jzbf_QfTkCXl6yBiv-itO3yGlpJdoMx8SZPzr1SsyRxmI_zRTKAKQDoH6k7In0RiCiWukFu1xUulSKphBdpeVyj2Mb2kJwMgvsEpzmyOtmSAMB6JEPA-ZWAerl1Q/s1600/fb_DSCN5139.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">emerging from the forest - afternoon sun on the button grass</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9hHYzz2-fUJQd0UYFOMVqr99NBNWmhabMj7zqQrSgZVcfLod9KLBIIKmNGcKxWSMrzIuui_Ameskvw9Yus2FrzWYtny23BSpBvhYp0xCO0x5If03Dvt5MEurmYlq3eIqmr1-Fspi0MA/s1600/fb_DSCN5141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9hHYzz2-fUJQd0UYFOMVqr99NBNWmhabMj7zqQrSgZVcfLod9KLBIIKmNGcKxWSMrzIuui_Ameskvw9Yus2FrzWYtny23BSpBvhYp0xCO0x5If03Dvt5MEurmYlq3eIqmr1-Fspi0MA/s1600/fb_DSCN5141.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hartz Peak</td></tr>
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<br />
It was a welcome sight - our cars waiting for us at the end of the track. And the afternoon sun showed traces of snow still lingering on Hartz Peak.
<br />
<br />
What a wonderful winter walk. Now for a long, hot bath with lots of scented bubbly stuff and a good book.
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Bennetts Rd, Geeveston TAS 7116, Australia-43.1907856 146.82390929999997-43.2834041 146.66254779999997 -43.0981671 146.98527079999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-88044970135925819632017-01-23T21:53:00.000+11:002017-01-23T22:14:25.906+11:00NOT FINISHED YET!My exhibition <i>Excursions and Adventures</i> at Freehand Gallery has proved so popular the gallery is keeping it up for another week. They're open every day until next Sunday, 29th January 2017, so you haven't missed your chance to see this painting before it goes off to its new home:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuDtA8245F03aH3l08zthmjtcWbqI5r9B9BOtDcqAb3na_ISVvdlgKpcLEnCOcCgmYO_6TW-9wIdBxXB0fbyykVmZy7O4o21sL6zR1bncXSl9KmZ-Ga7MPOZjxYg26boMieiEvqY6Ol0/s1600/fb_bandwagon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuDtA8245F03aH3l08zthmjtcWbqI5r9B9BOtDcqAb3na_ISVvdlgKpcLEnCOcCgmYO_6TW-9wIdBxXB0fbyykVmZy7O4o21sL6zR1bncXSl9KmZ-Ga7MPOZjxYg26boMieiEvqY6Ol0/s640/fb_bandwagon.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bandwagon; 77 cm x 102 cm; oil on canvas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And you can admire this one (it's still available):<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpm1fhDWIEv5CNlfsCe3RLxbRdu4LkaWJmQx41zXn6Ce1etKjesy62opGBsWg47ZAjZGe2GzLd34THJabCiHwS54GdCkEqYXK9nbC5BoK57ojEyrjTAXvu5ZSYW_7gqIiOrQPHIot3wc/s1600/fb_EyesOfTheForest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpm1fhDWIEv5CNlfsCe3RLxbRdu4LkaWJmQx41zXn6Ce1etKjesy62opGBsWg47ZAjZGe2GzLd34THJabCiHwS54GdCkEqYXK9nbC5BoK57ojEyrjTAXvu5ZSYW_7gqIiOrQPHIot3wc/s640/fb_EyesOfTheForest.jpg" width="516" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Eyes Of The Forest
76 cm x 60 cm oil on canvas </div>
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<br />
Freehand Gallery, 212 Elizabeth St., Hobart, Tasmania<br />
open daily. Exhibition finishes close of business Sunday 29 January 2017<br />
<br />
gallery website: <a href="http://www.freehandgallery.com/">www.freehandgallery.com</a>
<br />
<br />
<h3>
Interview with the Artist</h3>
"Elizabeth Barsham paints incredible scenes combining familiar Tasmanian landscapes with parades of fantastical creatures. ABC Producer Joel Rheinberger asked her when she first put brush to paper"<br />
<div align="right">
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/936-abc-hobart/elizabeth-barsham-on-a-life-of-painting" target="_blank">ABC on Soundcloud</a></div>
<br />
<br />
enjoy!Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0212 Elizabeth St, Hobart TAS 7000, Australia-42.878814 147.3206659-67.0466 106.0120719 -18.711028 -171.37074010000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-91309698343631243992017-01-14T19:25:00.001+11:002017-01-15T18:17:44.381+11:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<h2 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Excursions and Adventures </h2>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bc0y5qNsx_ZOUWK7SVD6MYEx8m8uWvoyBXrT168HoiGKYjATb2RmetgQ0tRzZLNR_OYuhoi8qnkrBtQkleow_GDV1Rdz_XZdA-4tY6imW5xcJSy5NirI7PNc3_Ga6skkfxAJbu6UlMw/s1600/FreehandGallery1312017+%25287_crop2%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bc0y5qNsx_ZOUWK7SVD6MYEx8m8uWvoyBXrT168HoiGKYjATb2RmetgQ0tRzZLNR_OYuhoi8qnkrBtQkleow_GDV1Rdz_XZdA-4tY6imW5xcJSy5NirI7PNc3_Ga6skkfxAJbu6UlMw/s200/FreehandGallery1312017+%25287_crop2%2529.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><i>Friday 13<sup>th</sup>
– the only date to open an exhibition of new Tasmanian Gothic paintings.<br />I'm pleased to say the evening went very well; lots of friendly people and some
nice red dots</i></span>.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.tasmanian-gothic.com/gallery5/gallery5.html" target="_blank">see the paintings on my website</a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-2fiZwyKSmD0-66YfD4XkSLKLsF_zs1X3cWkd86-QjqLL5d5EirLA-mlHl3R8LicPRh5E4ZNc8BTudjgEHm-7rWoIw94yvZpZ0iSjgHAUFbXna8-PRVWW_rfuh0R3rQLJ3uVMWV6l6w/s1600/FreehandGalleryTitle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Exhibition title: Excursions and Adventures" border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-2fiZwyKSmD0-66YfD4XkSLKLsF_zs1X3cWkd86-QjqLL5d5EirLA-mlHl3R8LicPRh5E4ZNc8BTudjgEHm-7rWoIw94yvZpZ0iSjgHAUFbXna8-PRVWW_rfuh0R3rQLJ3uVMWV6l6w/s400/FreehandGalleryTitle.jpg" title="Freehand Gallery with Barsham paintings" width="400" /></a></div>
Many thanks to Comrad
Xero, musician, songwriter and all-round talented person, in this
instance an apparently disembodied voice emanating from beneath a
dark veil, who spoke at the opening.<br />
<br />
Several
people have asked for a transcript and the author has kindly sent me
a copy. Here it is.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
WHEN I THINK OF GOTHIC
</h3>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I think of Gothic, I think of those structures put up by late Middle
Age builders - stone by stone. They enclosed a space yet to become
sacred - reaching for a better Eternity. Here are dark and
mysterious recesses. Here are Crypts. Here, the underworld of these
spaces hold their own significance. These spaces are transformative
- all sort of creatures live here.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I think of Gothic, I think of Percy B. Shelly and his crowd, sitting
around a fire telling horrifying tales of ‘different
possibilities’ - of resurrections. Hearts beating in anticipation
of the coming next word - how will it drop? Conjuring visions that
could lift you or slam you down. </span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
think of Percy Shelley facing off with the gale force winds of
Italian beaches….</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.25cm;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Oh,
wild west wind,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.25cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>thou
breath of autumns’ being,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.25cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>thou
from whose unseen presence </i></span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.25cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>the
leaves, dead are driven,</i></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.25cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>like
ghosts from an enchanter fleeing”</i> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 5.00cm;">
<span style="color: black;"> <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <i>(Ode
to the West Wind)</i></span></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I think of Gothic I think of Germany, of Caspar David Friedrich
standing on that precipice, looking down into a sea of mist, fog and
cloud - alone - high in the mountains - a solitary figure.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
think of early film noir - the silent film - <i>The Cabinet of Dr.
Caligari</i> where duality between the bright and dark sides of our
nature is played. Where the sets and the lighting exaggerated the
‘chiaroscuro’ technique of the Mannerist period of art … adding
‘the unseen’ as an element.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
think of <i>The Tale of Ruby Rose</i> a film based on a Tasmanian
story told by an old woman - Mrs. Miles of Mole Creek Valley. It is
a tragic dark tale of a young woman living alone in a hut in the
Highlands, waiting for her husband to come back - but he has died.
She waited alone for four years. Four long years, alone, in this
wilderness. The character Ruby, begins to create her own world, it
comes out of her interaction with the landscape and its flora and
fauna. She fears the night - ‘darkness is following me.’ She
layers flour on her face to resist it.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">All
these artists, these builders, these film-makers, these writers
create spaces for us to inhabit. Spaces where we find shelter from
the mundanity of Consume - Work - Die.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasprYn4qeZR4unPZMS7ewd3O79Ufon5e_Q79vAAwJEMgmqIxdmy3P3XjkBhxPgrLaX-YneSLn3Ot-tOiFoNwgb12pIdIjBMkS05Sw80XE0I2LK2S_Z5NZUSWKBzaiSuudPRQI8quoeEA/s1600/fb_blackRoses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasprYn4qeZR4unPZMS7ewd3O79Ufon5e_Q79vAAwJEMgmqIxdmy3P3XjkBhxPgrLaX-YneSLn3Ot-tOiFoNwgb12pIdIjBMkS05Sw80XE0I2LK2S_Z5NZUSWKBzaiSuudPRQI8quoeEA/s200/fb_blackRoses.jpg" width="146" /></a></div>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I think of Gothic, I think of musicians who take us there in an
instant. The organist of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, one Ash
Wednesday evening - who played the dirgiest music that filled that
great stone enclosure with swirling sound leaving me in anticipation
as if on a ledge - a precipice.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
think of music of bands like ‘Dead can Dance’ - ‘SPK’ - ‘The
Sisters of Mercy' . . . </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Hey,
now, hey now now now….sing this corrosion to me . . . </i></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I think of Gothic, I am slammed in the face with the spookiness that
inhabits the Tasmanian Landscape. You may take a trip up Kunyani on
a beautiful day, breathe in the cold sweet fresh air, stand there
like Caspar David Friedrich - and take in the vista of human
existence below. You may see Sisyphus coming up towards the summit,
you may certainly feel that you have reached the realm of the Gods -
but then, decide to go for a stroll from Thark Ridge to Devils Throne
and never be seen again!</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">That
dark blue of spaces, that jagged rock landscape, the hostility of a
burnt out pine forest, where nothing grows there again naturally.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
isolation of the lonely places that shaped peoples' lives in the
past and still continues to shape ours. Here, ironically, on this
heart shaped Island a dark, eerie, cold and bracing history, climate
and landscape, has infused our imaginations - and we do embrace that
darkness, we know the clouds, the mists that hang heavy in the
valleys, we know the colours of winter that pervade the recesses of
the voids as we drive past them - we know spooky.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Elizabeth
Barsham comes from this place,</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">this
landscape,</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">this
history,</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">this
knowing.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Observing
the details of this inheritance, Elizabeth creates unique works that
interrogate the haunting and unusual aspects of this Landscape on
this Island.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">When
I look at Elizabeth’s paintings, I feel like I have just woken up
in a beautifully strange and a totally new world, where every detail,
every object - needs to be investigated and rediscovered and where
surprises flourish in abundance. Welcome to Tasmanian Gothic.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Written
and delivered by Comrad Xero at the opening of </span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Excursions
and Adventures”</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">an
exhibition of paintings</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">by
Elizabeth Barsham</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Friday
13 January , 2017. </span></span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">(World
Goth Day) Exhibition ends 22 Jan.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="LEFT" lang="en-AU" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); break-after: auto; break-inside: auto; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCd1sZxArbTay2ElQu9IdyIQ" target="_blank">Comrad Xero on Youtube</a></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeCJecxL2YXztufGICuqT6fq3nCXocwiecPzWlfp2JFe938CscRPKsIDyT9NmiAR0Qop4vo4npzjaJ0esK8i8qt7IRHXxJE6sHlrZwyygBr7P6SlLNJ08NurPlV7F0-apZaXUfDA1Huw/s1600/FreehandGallery_title2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Freehand Gallery; 212 Elizabeth St., Hobart, Tasmania 7000. Phone 0450 038 454" border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeCJecxL2YXztufGICuqT6fq3nCXocwiecPzWlfp2JFe938CscRPKsIDyT9NmiAR0Qop4vo4npzjaJ0esK8i8qt7IRHXxJE6sHlrZwyygBr7P6SlLNJ08NurPlV7F0-apZaXUfDA1Huw/s640/FreehandGallery_title2.jpg" title="Freehand Gallery with Barsham paintings" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0212 Elizabeth St, Hobart, TAS 7000, Australia-42.878814 147.3206659-68.4008485 106.0120719 -17.3567795 -171.37074010000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-85912599052218603422016-11-10T00:08:00.000+11:002016-11-10T00:08:57.040+11:00As Far Away as Possible<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
As you probably know,
there was some sort of political event on the other side of the
Pacific today. Definitely a day to avoid all forms of electronic
media, so I headed for the most distant point I could think of.<br />
<br />
Hobart is, of course, Australia's southernmost capital city.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
If
you drive about 130 kilometres south of Hobart you will come to </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOxDypGKCtttkyu6kNJvPwDLUqbPlFjmSh3gYlm6EwHw2-MO7Hd1lsL6S4zghIgKT3FDBaR9zXlsk8zWdPcqW2N0q-cdAAeverx4FX7JU51ZXuANQ2HiDMMkLv00GWKs5FTUeoXanUC4/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOxDypGKCtttkyu6kNJvPwDLUqbPlFjmSh3gYlm6EwHw2-MO7Hd1lsL6S4zghIgKT3FDBaR9zXlsk8zWdPcqW2N0q-cdAAeverx4FX7JU51ZXuANQ2HiDMMkLv00GWKs5FTUeoXanUC4/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%25281%2529.JPG" width="489" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
From here you walk another ten kilometres or so to South Cape Bay and from there you can see the southernmost tip of Tasmania
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn8vH6v2LOiCXPefifA9oaRC0Kry_dJB5gI7-GQE4ha5DOWyJ3W4B-YJU5ScdH5j43pp1-8rNLZbiXTC2mVxDa_eV2pfOf5SQ9G91AiCCS9g8fmTN9gdZ6Wxear5t2m0n2wdjzZt3ZGo/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn8vH6v2LOiCXPefifA9oaRC0Kry_dJB5gI7-GQE4ha5DOWyJ3W4B-YJU5ScdH5j43pp1-8rNLZbiXTC2mVxDa_eV2pfOf5SQ9G91AiCCS9g8fmTN9gdZ6Wxear5t2m0n2wdjzZt3ZGo/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%252813%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South East Cape from South Cape Bay</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There is no television nor radio. Absolutely no
internet access or wifi; not even mobile phone coverage. A perfect
escape. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We had good weather – warm, but not too hot, and an easy walk
through beautiful and varied terrain in congenial company. What
more could you want?
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Here are some
photographs I took down there last year. Forget about politics and enjoy. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3p_e0ENCLYzsK3-oXjItsVwBTAe7mfl1Qlxm5MzIbYX97sv2B38nrC20BOnjHsjZj98-IAGxMxrJ6Jahc6DX4CXof8YEHPeSi8qTvoXWas3sh3BpPq6fpPIvbxv40vpDSkL6g19KfLc/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3p_e0ENCLYzsK3-oXjItsVwBTAe7mfl1Qlxm5MzIbYX97sv2B38nrC20BOnjHsjZj98-IAGxMxrJ6Jahc6DX4CXof8YEHPeSi8qTvoXWas3sh3BpPq6fpPIvbxv40vpDSkL6g19KfLc/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%25282%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooyzAhASiaN2Qb5y9kgKG4I2yZmOnSCYQrzaccq2GYJN9t9Kxan24lWM29yYGZSH08Oaen6MMOcIH49MToWgl28EQx_aCxDRjI9x22ogUmYDBxX5vY-dXmDhhu6FQkab-MIwpOMqZF9E/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjooyzAhASiaN2Qb5y9kgKG4I2yZmOnSCYQrzaccq2GYJN9t9Kxan24lWM29yYGZSH08Oaen6MMOcIH49MToWgl28EQx_aCxDRjI9x22ogUmYDBxX5vY-dXmDhhu6FQkab-MIwpOMqZF9E/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%25283%2529.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo16Ap8bRfcBZ4VdYqGtBw03HWv1kjxWAdJiwyfpC6PBom909QskETTjQVOTI0zaKHJpUX6MogPojA_rlkY42931G7mp3W3kqYgf2jAmtqSEXJfDEaOZVEwvVViTy7GApC5jW2MZD730/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwo16Ap8bRfcBZ4VdYqGtBw03HWv1kjxWAdJiwyfpC6PBom909QskETTjQVOTI0zaKHJpUX6MogPojA_rlkY42931G7mp3W3kqYgf2jAmtqSEXJfDEaOZVEwvVViTy7GApC5jW2MZD730/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%25284%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8N-0ZJcp8yBGNK2L1fHme96xm6XcBTXH9durWFmn4O0_phu9-54zT5ZlcKMOrC7CezvFn5Bis7BKvhEjr0DIy9wi7hfcdi7lHUBUZdyTjsnKJgZqYTaiCNFmvNx9uyuxcThw9FB-Lxo/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%252812%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8N-0ZJcp8yBGNK2L1fHme96xm6XcBTXH9durWFmn4O0_phu9-54zT5ZlcKMOrC7CezvFn5Bis7BKvhEjr0DIy9wi7hfcdi7lHUBUZdyTjsnKJgZqYTaiCNFmvNx9uyuxcThw9FB-Lxo/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%252812%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lion Rock - today's destination; we didn't climb Coal Bluff this time</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfV8rYaeG5l2S5k_iPeohXjcLLNZrQy-SIyEx8payypGx2uAqJkHkTytP4R9N8MPWXPCJdn0fAjKzAyBRr5-XF1NJ4PWJ6XwnxflIaVEv6Yv5V3n1WkX0uUakmZIJ9lckGCI9nO_Oiobk/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%252810%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfV8rYaeG5l2S5k_iPeohXjcLLNZrQy-SIyEx8payypGx2uAqJkHkTytP4R9N8MPWXPCJdn0fAjKzAyBRr5-XF1NJ4PWJ6XwnxflIaVEv6Yv5V3n1WkX0uUakmZIJ9lckGCI9nO_Oiobk/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%252810%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view from Coal Bluff</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqdvn4vYvPMwqbONZ-1iRzWYm_OevSP3e15omuQxTeWaonh_V4fJTrG_oEpy_1mH0E__lKWX7vPIzO_wI5CHheq1kR6z920c8rI4n6-Zw1UhIli8oBxoDseDXZgfxNximnQecAb4ZBE0/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%252811%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqdvn4vYvPMwqbONZ-1iRzWYm_OevSP3e15omuQxTeWaonh_V4fJTrG_oEpy_1mH0E__lKWX7vPIzO_wI5CHheq1kR6z920c8rI4n6-Zw1UhIli8oBxoDseDXZgfxNximnQecAb4ZBE0/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%252811%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South Cape Bay and South East Cape from Coal Bluff</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzv3zuCSEgpLUAA0ec8jHte_ogNflfRCE3arIMDsoRpMhgk4rM2UGPS7SahmOBkI6rUeM0vifIE327aaDVrGhY8BdVMu7PRz27pnGun6i_76Nr3hIcb48pOxsAXbelvMWfFm3OrzKgfLw/s1600/fb_SouthCape40115+%252814%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzv3zuCSEgpLUAA0ec8jHte_ogNflfRCE3arIMDsoRpMhgk4rM2UGPS7SahmOBkI6rUeM0vifIE327aaDVrGhY8BdVMu7PRz27pnGun6i_76Nr3hIcb48pOxsAXbelvMWfFm3OrzKgfLw/s640/fb_SouthCape40115+%252814%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">South East Cape from Coal Bluff</td></tr>
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Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Tasmania, Australia-43.614947296792167 146.83084982646483-43.637938296792164 146.79050932646481 -43.591956296792169 146.87119032646484tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-91469209611072730682016-11-03T00:20:00.001+11:002016-11-03T00:20:10.876+11:00IN WHICH WE FAIL TO CLIMB WETPANTS PEAK<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqMHWuL5gM-Db_MAigUVqkEwDKjlXs8t6NaaLTkzoAmGVcTTZwzp_-ezt-sgH1xy6k_51ixWmNPcZ_QVuBHBGJsCLglOku4vwq4NgSdY2FMlc98NAxGsjUEvt8aH0kdbMj5ZZy-omA74/s1600/fb_wetpants002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqMHWuL5gM-Db_MAigUVqkEwDKjlXs8t6NaaLTkzoAmGVcTTZwzp_-ezt-sgH1xy6k_51ixWmNPcZ_QVuBHBGJsCLglOku4vwq4NgSdY2FMlc98NAxGsjUEvt8aH0kdbMj5ZZy-omA74/s200/fb_wetpants002.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
I've returned from the
Big North Island, where walks in the ACT consisted of climbing steep
hills covered with dry eucalypt forest. Today's walk couldn't have
been more different: so nice to be back in the familiar surroundings
of a Tasmanian rainforest. Of course, a problem with rainforests is –
rain. Optimistically ignoring an unfavourable weather forecast we
drove all the way in to the southern forests to the start of the
Nevada Peak walk.
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Actually, our intended
destination was not Nevada Peak but the slightly closer, not so lofty
Wetpants Peak, probably named by Tom Stevens of the Forestry
Department who surveyed the area in the mid-twentieth century.<br />
You
can look up the reference here: <a href="https://www.placenames.tas.gov.au/">https://www.placenames.tas.gov.au/</a>
- just type in the place name. And we didn't drive quite to the
carpark, either:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCyK3ZPbkJUkN8WwF0J9dSFBT-rSAdPaxHvd4fEVjeArtQlu5qGDSPOzE7ysdwsunwf4eMDfykxB5XgiQ9OKFAA8ZX0fQIAHg3gU9Qkl6lRJEXlScOScrF1f_efCti_tpGiA50rhS4NY/s1600/fb_wetpants001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCyK3ZPbkJUkN8WwF0J9dSFBT-rSAdPaxHvd4fEVjeArtQlu5qGDSPOzE7ysdwsunwf4eMDfykxB5XgiQ9OKFAA8ZX0fQIAHg3gU9Qkl6lRJEXlScOScrF1f_efCti_tpGiA50rhS4NY/s320/fb_wetpants001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I thought you might like to hear what the stream
beneath the washed-out bridge sounds like:</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw3lKaRBmwfbSicHB7nMlz29zMooy11d86oHJipBD6jq9Rd6u97G1A03LtPCE_v8ZquschoAU9WW3NnPxXN2Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We had to walk the last
half kilometre. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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To our surprise – and
theirs – we encountered three snakes curled up together on the side
of the road; surely it was not warm or sunny enough for snakes to be
out? Of course, by the time I disentangled my camera they were
retreating into holes between the rocks, but you can see bits of two
of them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCoSrij1gDDSMzpNvABNnGNaC0vmdjIyEwTI7E6DfAUaP7yCE6hQjHEtKEqq1VfCzG8ony2EXXNN-7LqgAiflt6W7z3p_v5qtZfEDl8uKIxyKc25vuTYI4FVdC8wFuUjTE6kYOxy83I4/s1600/fb_wetpants003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCoSrij1gDDSMzpNvABNnGNaC0vmdjIyEwTI7E6DfAUaP7yCE6hQjHEtKEqq1VfCzG8ony2EXXNN-7LqgAiflt6W7z3p_v5qtZfEDl8uKIxyKc25vuTYI4FVdC8wFuUjTE6kYOxy83I4/s320/fb_wetpants003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Leaving the carpark,
where our cars weren't. Sorry about the rainspot on the lens.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHppSt69AWCoEaXVwWuKjERhkAJmgRMyB_vu0u1wTQvtgi11q5wnMuDvZBOOb4BfvLKBbO33Rn8O1O137tlEemRGmN8LUhnc2izTkLb7YbAyyz1QdYHNM5ordZuS9JzxdCJZBojmsh06k/s1600/fb_wetpants004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHppSt69AWCoEaXVwWuKjERhkAJmgRMyB_vu0u1wTQvtgi11q5wnMuDvZBOOb4BfvLKBbO33Rn8O1O137tlEemRGmN8LUhnc2izTkLb7YbAyyz1QdYHNM5ordZuS9JzxdCJZBojmsh06k/s320/fb_wetpants004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After a short walk on a
waterlogged corduroy road we reached the beginning of the track
proper.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcurNikaE6HI-FWFDINQuSmP_vhGIQk7E46c_TloXbTzsYxyKO8-xq_L47J5VvwYMKpvF37zcnbTyv6NOoL-Rzkk7JL7Uxw7WUe7q0NkuFaxnVyiOvjWXTQg7hnNiuG8pGzuShosnIXaM/s1600/fb_wetpants005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcurNikaE6HI-FWFDINQuSmP_vhGIQk7E46c_TloXbTzsYxyKO8-xq_L47J5VvwYMKpvF37zcnbTyv6NOoL-Rzkk7JL7Uxw7WUe7q0NkuFaxnVyiOvjWXTQg7hnNiuG8pGzuShosnIXaM/s320/fb_wetpants005.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Depending, of course,
on your definition of "track".</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghjPeuX_eeN1oe_OoHBuuZvTyyBOFg-ZreIC8kVFaxXu32qxjoqe9QPrwk0HY3oGNVMPTXgQPun8SyQ6bgnZvGEtdM0lCluGiyyU8lEKCzmUwqGEKSJHRDTcUB3clOaofGv43dXFN5S4/s1600/fb_wetpants006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghjPeuX_eeN1oe_OoHBuuZvTyyBOFg-ZreIC8kVFaxXu32qxjoqe9QPrwk0HY3oGNVMPTXgQPun8SyQ6bgnZvGEtdM0lCluGiyyU8lEKCzmUwqGEKSJHRDTcUB3clOaofGv43dXFN5S4/s320/fb_wetpants006.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzleoCvc2Af7FzwqEeTp5tW-7AxW8oScn8ASfbXkHhMCoU_bRxX4dC9-3M65B0etFQkJNOrn0XVSDlSO5HoQB-3iivdL3QFSLOzMHlPEGfw_5Z82oXn27pOmdSkwwOIgQGtDzZKo0ScSo/s1600/fb_wetpants010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzleoCvc2Af7FzwqEeTp5tW-7AxW8oScn8ASfbXkHhMCoU_bRxX4dC9-3M65B0etFQkJNOrn0XVSDlSO5HoQB-3iivdL3QFSLOzMHlPEGfw_5Z82oXn27pOmdSkwwOIgQGtDzZKo0ScSo/s320/fb_wetpants010.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">morning tea</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqWEy16kB3diZQGWuM0ZWl7G0MkpFr4102aAICxN4UIWIFZ_Vvnr5czG8ditHjrwmkKwn_0UllJ-THTRxKGAXElJfeUp12pNXP1ofO8hYArZQO91E0Wjt0kM-InL8p-bikCxsJhjTEnE/s1600/fb_wetpants011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqWEy16kB3diZQGWuM0ZWl7G0MkpFr4102aAICxN4UIWIFZ_Vvnr5czG8ditHjrwmkKwn_0UllJ-THTRxKGAXElJfeUp12pNXP1ofO8hYArZQO91E0Wjt0kM-InL8p-bikCxsJhjTEnE/s320/fb_wetpants011.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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We began a
climb where negotiating the stretches of mud, large pools of water and
flowing streams that passed as a track was varied by scrambling over, crawling under and
balancing on fallen logs in various sizes and stages of decay. With
both hands occupied grabbing vegetation for support, photography was
out of the question. Besides, as we gained altitude the weather
became more and more inclement, with rain and an icy wind. Through the rain and low clouds we glimpsed snow on Nevada Peak. </div>
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By the time we reached
Woolleys Tarn we were tired, wet and cold and had had quite enough,
thank you. There were traces of snow there, too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwamK2MsMcxjz-OYjZLL-z9ljmTvdTUtTecSvOnBrxsQ0xZL6ADW7b9R7zoxPfCpXgKtlTRsxKaM1GSdSFPFq2-FpyNGcTnOlIE45oY1V79ifST5GGPajxXyAH54xhdh7kL-HBQf0hrMc/s1600/fb_wetpants013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwamK2MsMcxjz-OYjZLL-z9ljmTvdTUtTecSvOnBrxsQ0xZL6ADW7b9R7zoxPfCpXgKtlTRsxKaM1GSdSFPFq2-FpyNGcTnOlIE45oY1V79ifST5GGPajxXyAH54xhdh7kL-HBQf0hrMc/s320/fb_wetpants013.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNO8XVOWqYP0UV1lHvgeKDxoinPfrfX2887yyyczZM5GSGRU5EgPbVpZaASxY8jt71Q8tUiD6wYhklnqrXoSlA22mPjwZX6T2ocUWs5dnZ3zJAjD1gL6MMB-XzxBj_E1YJ40ZSr4MjlA/s1600/fb_wetpants012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNO8XVOWqYP0UV1lHvgeKDxoinPfrfX2887yyyczZM5GSGRU5EgPbVpZaASxY8jt71Q8tUiD6wYhklnqrXoSlA22mPjwZX6T2ocUWs5dnZ3zJAjD1gL6MMB-XzxBj_E1YJ40ZSr4MjlA/s320/fb_wetpants012.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This is Wetpants Peak. You can see a couple of waterfalls to the left of the picture.<br /><br />Nobody evinced the slightest interest in climbing it. Even my camera
was feeling the damp and refused to work any more. </div>
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So we found a
relatively sheltered spot in the forest among some impressive pandani and ate a
soggy, hurried lunch before retracing our steps.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xRGLwcGf4JnGmxz7s2Tl5Q4Ba2JKm5-NWQCEtKXIxHuqw2ONv8_KKkXpEzcebPtMUXVeunfa7WjTzOO0xg6aMS8-Fip77vZoG6o_0BUDohR887yBLVLRAeGk91v0bR7CJ4AQUqTKszA/s1600/fb_wetpants014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xRGLwcGf4JnGmxz7s2Tl5Q4Ba2JKm5-NWQCEtKXIxHuqw2ONv8_KKkXpEzcebPtMUXVeunfa7WjTzOO0xg6aMS8-Fip77vZoG6o_0BUDohR887yBLVLRAeGk91v0bR7CJ4AQUqTKszA/s320/fb_wetpants014.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of a perfect day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxODoL5s01erJffl5tKoefBAu7WW3P8yqcdaHsV-_3nJlAfttVenFS3MBhqf7slKdXPVPWhxP0dmWcPCyij_FvJy3H6RZ92s3nghFx3kxzUFfLT13kVOWM_MB0sVp3pdifLvgdIXV8hOI/s1600/fb_wetpants015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxODoL5s01erJffl5tKoefBAu7WW3P8yqcdaHsV-_3nJlAfttVenFS3MBhqf7slKdXPVPWhxP0dmWcPCyij_FvJy3H6RZ92s3nghFx3kxzUFfLT13kVOWM_MB0sVp3pdifLvgdIXV8hOI/s320/fb_wetpants015.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and we didn't even GET to Wetpants Peak!</td></tr>
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Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Australia-42.951856256244206 146.84957105-49.040906256244206 136.52242255000002 -36.862806256244205 157.17671955tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-74213124606122441632016-10-12T23:34:00.000+11:002016-10-12T23:39:20.120+11:00A week in the ACT - Gibraltar Peak<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Every Wednesday three of the ACT walking
clubs have a combined walk; this week two Hobart
Walking Club members went along as well.</div>
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The walk co-ordinator signs
the book at Dalsetta car park in Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve before we
set out on a walk up the fire trail to Gibraltar Peak.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodp-r4kFHC62sBk-lZoCJuWCZifCm5-DksD4JThruMeKxmSlfh4H-oCGSN_lkzl649SpDGALxZuEplxJ6a27F99iOiPjNkps94XqOVOs2H-3w6HLRYxrhnJ4JdyI19rasNlKkWxpywjU/s1600/fb_Gibraltar1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjodp-r4kFHC62sBk-lZoCJuWCZifCm5-DksD4JThruMeKxmSlfh4H-oCGSN_lkzl649SpDGALxZuEplxJ6a27F99iOiPjNkps94XqOVOs2H-3w6HLRYxrhnJ4JdyI19rasNlKkWxpywjU/s320/fb_Gibraltar1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxH_K9kEHkaY4-SoZoWfS3N6NyZwbGtfO7Vlgtl0UUjSfytBwvcHH8qZHZc62dlXoyz7xJu-kph-05qWz2qyl8QvvZND8TFa7YbOAr_0SIWwAIe5nn-rrmIcbZ9kjDlGhJ5khq1Yyk6A/s1600/fb_Gibraltar2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxH_K9kEHkaY4-SoZoWfS3N6NyZwbGtfO7Vlgtl0UUjSfytBwvcHH8qZHZc62dlXoyz7xJu-kph-05qWz2qyl8QvvZND8TFa7YbOAr_0SIWwAIe5nn-rrmIcbZ9kjDlGhJ5khq1Yyk6A/s320/fb_Gibraltar2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A bike path leads some of the way upward before we reach a steep fire trail. That's Gibraltar Peak there, right in the middle of the photo.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtFoXBxa2heszIiNPSpkY1dsEbm4DBUMxOr3eSfiFvjKZK4xF_9HJ8Eqzri1HLBa3NTIH6Uvm0Rn5-m10h_LJEY1IYLaQH5817k6bGKvSdVk5ngyI_V7QAvXUxI7LpUVPPhosNvQJHQk/s1600/fb_Gibraltar3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtFoXBxa2heszIiNPSpkY1dsEbm4DBUMxOr3eSfiFvjKZK4xF_9HJ8Eqzri1HLBa3NTIH6Uvm0Rn5-m10h_LJEY1IYLaQH5817k6bGKvSdVk5ngyI_V7QAvXUxI7LpUVPPhosNvQJHQk/s320/fb_Gibraltar3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A feature of this walk is an extensive area of<i> Xanthorrhoea</i>
or grasstree. Lots of them flowering after a fire
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We made a detour to Wallaby Rocks.
There is no signpost, so you have to know where you're going. These
rocks were used as shelters by the Ngunnawal people, and have
special significance. A discreet notice by the first overhang
welcomes visitors, and asks that we respect the site.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc0x3_2Ze8c9Oa-jYquVTrdEqCfc1kj0S024Xn_txgBNI9bCqh74BC3JpkP3fu2LPaHXce3049aSJz9CZzUGNkQdFPo2kH5gVTJSE_KRkfMfrUKoDNnGVXXc51I4FbO5OJ8wZ3Bxyn_I/s1600/fb_Gibraltar4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQc0x3_2Ze8c9Oa-jYquVTrdEqCfc1kj0S024Xn_txgBNI9bCqh74BC3JpkP3fu2LPaHXce3049aSJz9CZzUGNkQdFPo2kH5gVTJSE_KRkfMfrUKoDNnGVXXc51I4FbO5OJ8wZ3Bxyn_I/s320/fb_Gibraltar4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUnuzXC3b8-x97RMGdtElcrfzc1UNzb-7GrEGtCBUUaBR-aW708IKeZWaaeim2l1l9GeVUsGK0Egiyuwx0c7g3AUD9r3C7Ykupe57QlM9mG9dktq6iN7vMIQ5Zn4Mqod_agbI4LAR_Mg/s1600/fb_Gibraltar6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVUnuzXC3b8-x97RMGdtElcrfzc1UNzb-7GrEGtCBUUaBR-aW708IKeZWaaeim2l1l9GeVUsGK0Egiyuwx0c7g3AUD9r3C7Ykupe57QlM9mG9dktq6iN7vMIQ5Zn4Mqod_agbI4LAR_Mg/s320/fb_Gibraltar6.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgI4GUat3b5fM4XZ-LrD_dbBTbwG9dENae2Et3sT3C44aUz22y0bHOcmogmzu6IwJv3GcWQiyfZaUBumqYIz4UWrBi_-dU5mMD8U-GGaykjHlOwiihfW7LXQNO32VD_8ySNfbL4XVTh5I/s1600/fb_Gibraltar7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgI4GUat3b5fM4XZ-LrD_dbBTbwG9dENae2Et3sT3C44aUz22y0bHOcmogmzu6IwJv3GcWQiyfZaUBumqYIz4UWrBi_-dU5mMD8U-GGaykjHlOwiihfW7LXQNO32VD_8ySNfbL4XVTh5I/s320/fb_Gibraltar7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Suitably impressed, we trudged up to the top of the hill. There we rested for morning tea, with a nice view of the Brindabellas, before picking our way down a steep gravelly slope to the foot of the path up to Gibraltar Rocks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZGo0f4sZyg7QAEMugQudDSlzQKqMM42bq6bvIjW9qmBB9BbxTTwGuzO_40wxiS9qpBgXO_9wQqsaJmwB58Er-ywk_AHjUhpXpUECOJFqYjyRc3kfJKdn4iZtmJC0W5AMGwuqdC26qG8/s1600/fb_Gibraltar8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZGo0f4sZyg7QAEMugQudDSlzQKqMM42bq6bvIjW9qmBB9BbxTTwGuzO_40wxiS9qpBgXO_9wQqsaJmwB58Er-ywk_AHjUhpXpUECOJFqYjyRc3kfJKdn4iZtmJC0W5AMGwuqdC26qG8/s320/fb_Gibraltar8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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At the beginning of the path a sign informs us that</div>
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<i>Gibraltar Rocks is revered by Ngunnawal people as a sacred men's site – a place of teaching for the initiated and a site of cultural lore . . . Campfires would have been lit at Gibraltar Rocks to send a message to people entering Ngunnawal Country that the senior men were in residence and the teaching or lore was taking place.</i></div>
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In 2012 a new track to Gibraltar Peak
was opened. It includes these nice granite steps that lead you all
the way up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_j-LiqRZnktMCGabYV5wNxFm0S-8nUZkDEheH2a1Cr5LL-wZoZ4Jo569K2zRFNhyphenhyphen3-VpOxUlU3eaHyjPlWfqhMhR7vPgfrkhCaUpglKNpKvs3KE55LMEW-bkvC_QIQyccb18mvpeakE/s1600/fb_Gibraltar9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_j-LiqRZnktMCGabYV5wNxFm0S-8nUZkDEheH2a1Cr5LL-wZoZ4Jo569K2zRFNhyphenhyphen3-VpOxUlU3eaHyjPlWfqhMhR7vPgfrkhCaUpglKNpKvs3KE55LMEW-bkvC_QIQyccb18mvpeakE/s320/fb_Gibraltar9.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-c4K6AQUSWvfrkNpmF93kVsajIgxGUuC80detNJJzzIaCdgkIFnsFf6wJmWc9Vd73z0UMzR1G-QyuqWuwTIOHobVsRGsGwPzVIncxKJH1qiGCzz83vep3ylNKFE_oClZ82a35BhPais/s1600/fb_Gibraltar10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-c4K6AQUSWvfrkNpmF93kVsajIgxGUuC80detNJJzzIaCdgkIFnsFf6wJmWc9Vd73z0UMzR1G-QyuqWuwTIOHobVsRGsGwPzVIncxKJH1qiGCzz83vep3ylNKFE_oClZ82a35BhPais/s320/fb_Gibraltar10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brindabellas from the path up Gibraltar Peak</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There appears to have been some
burning-off done in patches here and there. We
encountered several burnt areas<br />
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This is the spot for a view</div>
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and this is the view.</div>
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Off there in the distance we could just
make out the Tidbinbilla Tracking Station</div>
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There are still these rocks towering
above us, waiting to be explored.</div>
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A narrow passage between them</div>
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– and this is what we just walked
under!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5osOC16DMEuYl_Y9cmO8NmhsS9x2SkMaz-eKUD7ksOpJOv5ee_G_1ssouEnl5B-R3n_27sRFN8E1ijMnbgu7iqajIqKqduaOuG64FKcfm-zKpILKIrUV3ZeZZP2eV3Kz9dARq9SthhU4/s1600/fb_Gibraltar14c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5osOC16DMEuYl_Y9cmO8NmhsS9x2SkMaz-eKUD7ksOpJOv5ee_G_1ssouEnl5B-R3n_27sRFN8E1ijMnbgu7iqajIqKqduaOuG64FKcfm-zKpILKIrUV3ZeZZP2eV3Kz9dARq9SthhU4/s320/fb_Gibraltar14c.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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the view from the other side is well
worth it.</div>
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Rocks explored and views admired, we descended by the new walking track. First we encountered this neat viewing platform.<br />
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A very nice, well-built track zig-zags downhill between boulders and
rocky outcrops.</div>
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charred logs make a stark contrast with
the light-coloured granite gravel</div>
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After a lunch-stop at the Mt Eliza saddle,
where there is a nice circular picnic table, we had a short downhill
walk into cleared land and back to our cars.</div>
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Another very pleasant walk - great scenery, easy (if slightly steep) walking, fine cool weather and congenial company. What more could a girl want?</div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Gibraltar Peak, Paddys River ACT 2620, Australia-35.4666667 148.93333329999996-61.5136777 107.62473929999996 -9.4196556999999963 -169.75807270000007tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-40753589725970015462016-10-10T23:56:00.002+11:002016-10-10T23:56:43.804+11:00A week in the ACT - Orroral Valley Heritage Walk<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Earlier this year a group of bushwalkers from Canberra visited Hobart and joined members of the Hobart Walking Club for various strolls among our mountains and forests. They are returning the favour, hosting a group of Hobart Walking Club members in Canberra. Today was my first outing, and it was a splendid treat –
we were escorted by Matthew Higgins, a historian who writes and lectures
about the history and ecology of the high country.</div>
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Eleven of us turned up, despite the
unpromising weather forecast. So unpromising, in fact, that Matthew
had abandoned the planned walk and substituted a shorter, not so distant, one in hope
of finishing before the weather broke. We headed for Namadgi National Park.</div>
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Here we are setting out on the
Orroral Valley Heritage Walk, extending about six kilometres from an
1880s homestead to the site of a satellite tracking station,
disbanded in the 1980s.</div>
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There are plenty of information panels
set up at points of interest along the walk.</div>
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We were intrigued by the mobs of grey
kangaroo, many with joeys in the pouch, grazing where farmers once
ran cattle. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgALtCp35EJlJFbKoMaPhOA3z5JRP5nhVV3IO27THd_Qci5HA9I1eI9d3xZ4Jr7tvCCWzO7IU7zOEeyxfJuyKtMQX3OfLKqyTUyBu4OxjZjCWMpZINmOT9zBsj14IN2TneHfO7s6vAkWc/s1600/fb_Orroral_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgALtCp35EJlJFbKoMaPhOA3z5JRP5nhVV3IO27THd_Qci5HA9I1eI9d3xZ4Jr7tvCCWzO7IU7zOEeyxfJuyKtMQX3OfLKqyTUyBu4OxjZjCWMpZINmOT9zBsj14IN2TneHfO7s6vAkWc/s320/fb_Orroral_4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
First stop was the Orroral Homestead,
dating from the 1880s when it was built by the McKeahnie family. This
vertical slab homestead is Namadgi's oldest building. The "weather" end of the house, has been given a coat of cement render.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The chimney is all that remains today
of the original kitchen, a separate building.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Further down the valley we came to the
site of the Orroral Tracking Station, once one of the largest tracking
stations outside of the USA and the largest in the southern
hemisphere. This tracking station was one of three – the others being Tidbinbilla, covering deep space, and Honeysuckle Creek ("The Dish") which covered
manned missions including Gemini and the Apollo moon landing. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Orroral
Valley covered near space – weather, communications and so on. As
technology advanced and scientific interests changed, Honeysuckle
Creek and Orroral Valley were decommissioned. Only Tidbinbilla is
left now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFNgpjcMZE0_GeTIq34aYOL-88jumcIhRO89On_Fw1ErBeJVxcgWpKm1reajg5B2tj80TLRFqaCU2cWpDdJ4RYaT_nCcsrHiwWZne9o3sM3KT9C5GySgWAw_uHHTOTqEyb-d8eLLE5bk/s1600/fb_Orroral_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFNgpjcMZE0_GeTIq34aYOL-88jumcIhRO89On_Fw1ErBeJVxcgWpKm1reajg5B2tj80TLRFqaCU2cWpDdJ4RYaT_nCcsrHiwWZne9o3sM3KT9C5GySgWAw_uHHTOTqEyb-d8eLLE5bk/s320/fb_Orroral_5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The Orroral Valley telescope went to
Tasmania. You can see it, still operating, at Mt Pleasant, near
Richmond. This is where it used to stand.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzt9_c83C7p1KAqXvuyXMB-6pZomq8MOIMZJxDiKNQP5-Cf1FtNdGmPOvfS-XjygEZglT-7HfnNlHymK9dDSzwQ6ebaMOj1fAic3Zj3yolie-4TqzhrMbCneqqlS1mNo7dO8tCVqyJbA/s1600/fb_Orroral_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzt9_c83C7p1KAqXvuyXMB-6pZomq8MOIMZJxDiKNQP5-Cf1FtNdGmPOvfS-XjygEZglT-7HfnNlHymK9dDSzwQ6ebaMOj1fAic3Zj3yolie-4TqzhrMbCneqqlS1mNo7dO8tCVqyJbA/s320/fb_Orroral_6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The weather, although gloomy and
threatening, still held up so we continued our walk along the valley,
visiting other remnants of the tracking station and some spectacular
granite boulders before Matthew decided it was time to turn back. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVsDoMbEGafyXEAjeUwjL4WVHb63wnkKGGCpaqev_PDlRMng6JKZvKoWkoAkQBNFArqIhGfzruf2Q6HCvrX03wLahMr2_2jwNCeAXO5VAV6BYqT9t7eqW1AKkYWJir2X6ulQYEyDHiSM/s1600/fb_Orroral_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVsDoMbEGafyXEAjeUwjL4WVHb63wnkKGGCpaqev_PDlRMng6JKZvKoWkoAkQBNFArqIhGfzruf2Q6HCvrX03wLahMr2_2jwNCeAXO5VAV6BYqT9t7eqW1AKkYWJir2X6ulQYEyDHiSM/s320/fb_Orroral_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We regained Orroral homestead just
as the wind gusts strengthened and it began to rain. Lack of
furniture didn't worry us – it was time for lunch. <span style="font-size: medium;">Then
we came back to Canberra, via the Namadgi Visitors Centre.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It
might not have been the intended walk, but it was an extremely
interesting trip, made even better by Matthew's commentary. And we
managed not to get very wet at all. An auspicious and promising start
to the week!</div>
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<br /></div>
Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Canberra Australia-34.885930940753141 148.359375-60.93293294075314 107.050781 -8.8389289407531422 -170.33203100000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-382228723201144212016-07-13T18:52:00.000+10:002016-07-13T18:52:16.479+10:00A Family Disaster - or, The Tale of a Tree<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXf_qxAZ0m-zHwwmbGQ34NpJVfF6nI5Xmt81mvVy4GJGInQIZ2OR92A5eJQLdxrMvQtEqoMyr2kZXPD-fuHJv5qHOVGfdlB6D4tL4vjktfn1x8hpjwFC6OMr2FbpyLVA4cHbkxCM4sv0/s1600/oldRoad80_81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXf_qxAZ0m-zHwwmbGQ34NpJVfF6nI5Xmt81mvVy4GJGInQIZ2OR92A5eJQLdxrMvQtEqoMyr2kZXPD-fuHJv5qHOVGfdlB6D4tL4vjktfn1x8hpjwFC6OMr2FbpyLVA4cHbkxCM4sv0/s320/oldRoad80_81.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Old Road </i>- original oil painting by Elizabeth Barsham<br />28 cm x 35.5cm; oil on canvas. 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So we had that super storm last night, strong winds and snow and everything and a family disaster. Another stalwart, so familiar that I and my mother before me assumed it would endure forever, is gone. On a global scale this is a very minor event, but for our family it is the end of an era. </div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Here is a photograph taken from our front gate in the early 1920s. I liked it so much, I based the painting above on it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEOhZh_CwHUoe3xcOH0Lm1Dm5tCDfVTmXsuKFfwsiVtuYeHcu_wtZ9so2P7bxf-bfJ2PIZDex2R9XoEISQNSulbpgb-zQxqjCb5ww5XHKuHDiZnPYXSfGyACcnZah5ZuNtlONuEQ0cUs/s1600/Strand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEOhZh_CwHUoe3xcOH0Lm1Dm5tCDfVTmXsuKFfwsiVtuYeHcu_wtZ9so2P7bxf-bfJ2PIZDex2R9XoEISQNSulbpgb-zQxqjCb5ww5XHKuHDiZnPYXSfGyACcnZah5ZuNtlONuEQ0cUs/s320/Strand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My mother took this
one, from inside the gate, in 1942.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
She was actually
photographing the gates, which were about to be replaced.
</div>
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</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It appears to be the
fate of trees to appear only as background, as an incidental
inclusion in a photograph of something else.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRdSeJuceAFbcgg-_wOol8VwbNRkHNWDAag5-q0FdB3GRqs8fXbBBQykMEG3vOlga19VojqXX7IauNRpWql0_qOJivb0rvaiwu6HhyphenhyphenaUpQuqIyvGpvuXLMo9N6TCARXqO-U47NnYZmPw/s1600/gates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRdSeJuceAFbcgg-_wOol8VwbNRkHNWDAag5-q0FdB3GRqs8fXbBBQykMEG3vOlga19VojqXX7IauNRpWql0_qOJivb0rvaiwu6HhyphenhyphenaUpQuqIyvGpvuXLMo9N6TCARXqO-U47NnYZmPw/s320/gates.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In 2010 we celebrated
the 100<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the construction of our house and
I took some more photographs, trying without great success to get similar vantage points to
the earlier pictures. The surroundings have changed somewhat, but the
trees are still there.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center"><tbody>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkKBrVWEFcC2h863HWaOCMW6RW3Ha5oaN_D4H-7WdlJ6S3FC-lXI5pQPOS6c65XSnxMdrU5KLxoaZEaHSLm-FETZcmn-vWBxHNS5YDjPuODyn1E5hAoFxgeC-By_zBBXsy57bE1tLG-k/s1600/driveway4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkKBrVWEFcC2h863HWaOCMW6RW3Ha5oaN_D4H-7WdlJ6S3FC-lXI5pQPOS6c65XSnxMdrU5KLxoaZEaHSLm-FETZcmn-vWBxHNS5YDjPuODyn1E5hAoFxgeC-By_zBBXsy57bE1tLG-k/s320/driveway4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsi8xto5UC2WggmvsKDIT-EjXHvMnOc0mSbCGaoDf4mvv2wDqaxismNB8WNne0y7oqS9282JhROUzatxZa49BSt5Ay5PX86lYcHJnuSBoupz6gyqqvBOwbuUbEl187wsNAGLDi2u7HHo4/s1600/sentinelTrees+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsi8xto5UC2WggmvsKDIT-EjXHvMnOc0mSbCGaoDf4mvv2wDqaxismNB8WNne0y7oqS9282JhROUzatxZa49BSt5Ay5PX86lYcHJnuSBoupz6gyqqvBOwbuUbEl187wsNAGLDi2u7HHo4/s320/sentinelTrees+%25283%2529.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Here they are by
moonlight last year.</div>
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</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The logs in the
foreground are a feral pine tree we cut down some years ago. I keep
them there because I like the shape.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8ud0giT6pcU6mlxp1OHFBMxBrJJB4hP_TSgybEhSCT9XAbmmc1409U1PTLFGLiEkrFKL5tl-_o59FbZo9kD4-Ty_YMm7Ol5NBePIu4SavavC1M9AUTO9BXuH-5SyPcOqcGGTwoY5WI4/s1600/BlueMoon_3172015+%25286%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8ud0giT6pcU6mlxp1OHFBMxBrJJB4hP_TSgybEhSCT9XAbmmc1409U1PTLFGLiEkrFKL5tl-_o59FbZo9kD4-Ty_YMm7Ol5NBePIu4SavavC1M9AUTO9BXuH-5SyPcOqcGGTwoY5WI4/s320/BlueMoon_3172015+%25286%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And another one from
last year; once more, The Tree is incidental background for a picture
of something else - the decaying pine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKGM2AtJtztsio1bFxOro9fTdlnVd1K1rAY23-m4TmYJETghmjz5q4ncEYHKxU4GRvcUkY-_ZbCCHYaRLTNpCp_G54nXBx3XBzlCKu_zy_Pre-6VsaT_oH_3Khg7R1f2TRH22fD4-tjM/s1600/4Oct2015+%252825%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKGM2AtJtztsio1bFxOro9fTdlnVd1K1rAY23-m4TmYJETghmjz5q4ncEYHKxU4GRvcUkY-_ZbCCHYaRLTNpCp_G54nXBx3XBzlCKu_zy_Pre-6VsaT_oH_3Khg7R1f2TRH22fD4-tjM/s320/4Oct2015+%252825%2529.JPG" width="221" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Which brings us to
today. Our bastion of strength reduced to firewood. The bush
around me is strewn with ancient trees rotted and fallen, slowly
decaying back into the ground. But this one – and its mate – were
special. Goodbye, old friend.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hQoi-zH0V916ACbHLdzQHZFcH4cimCE_TI4fIYBv2P1xffybjanTptO0IoY8Iqb-QtSfb_NE3L-M-P01PCoQlU7aREeNvhciq8D_f8HaWY8Hv6LOfTH3-8ueugqgPdeUuTpB3bPl_v4/s1600/13+July+2016+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hQoi-zH0V916ACbHLdzQHZFcH4cimCE_TI4fIYBv2P1xffybjanTptO0IoY8Iqb-QtSfb_NE3L-M-P01PCoQlU7aREeNvhciq8D_f8HaWY8Hv6LOfTH3-8ueugqgPdeUuTpB3bPl_v4/s320/13+July+2016+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJXdu8hatjH-wsE1pz3KXRh1NXfRC66eBWt2-G5LqkVB8A6oyqgXJOTSbXYdQ0BdzedZlC7LHEtPeRRtgckewkuZreX2Q6wWQqQD-BpBWumsGXrfpph14Ze1GnI3JR_-d-kHrLugT4_u0/s1600/13+July+2016+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJXdu8hatjH-wsE1pz3KXRh1NXfRC66eBWt2-G5LqkVB8A6oyqgXJOTSbXYdQ0BdzedZlC7LHEtPeRRtgckewkuZreX2Q6wWQqQD-BpBWumsGXrfpph14Ze1GnI3JR_-d-kHrLugT4_u0/s320/13+July+2016+%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Lindisfarne TAS 7015, Australia-42.847778 147.35305600000004-42.894349 147.27237500000004 -42.801207 147.43373700000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-68066313857386696822016-04-27T01:01:00.001+10:002020-04-19T12:26:19.867+10:00Dogs Head Revisited<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVx6zYYunrIA8DkpAx4J1sbwLmxhdkE697CxuBD7j4qOLJjYyzFRxIUptKM4l_kFhUf3vHl3qQoDdOE-I9lUnO14LszcbxiXJ0ef_aVcuMjaWYKHeRiqYB_xHq_wIKkX-9uD4vOZ8_eyk/s1600/fb17_DogsHead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVx6zYYunrIA8DkpAx4J1sbwLmxhdkE697CxuBD7j4qOLJjYyzFRxIUptKM4l_kFhUf3vHl3qQoDdOE-I9lUnO14LszcbxiXJ0ef_aVcuMjaWYKHeRiqYB_xHq_wIKkX-9uD4vOZ8_eyk/s640/fb17_DogsHead.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;">
<i>We had
a delightful sail to various points of the lake. The air up in these
regions seems even purer and more elastic than in other parts of the
island, the verdure brighter, the foliage richer; and as we float
here at our ease, we are willing to believe that no lake on earth is
more beauteous than Sorell.</i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: right;">
<i>John Mitchel</i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezfsAhx7yGj3_CGeApzsyr7JRhhniXY5Y1KSVi_Jgba8jxdHTuFR9iLKBu_D4rPsfaIwRs3bChsinYt2A9BgLy6sUT18spHEGzxKZzqM5_1QqubvzaZC19-9hAZp71ezjAsFThFAthEI/s1600/scoutsAtDogsHead+%25286_ed%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezfsAhx7yGj3_CGeApzsyr7JRhhniXY5Y1KSVi_Jgba8jxdHTuFR9iLKBu_D4rPsfaIwRs3bChsinYt2A9BgLy6sUT18spHEGzxKZzqM5_1QqubvzaZC19-9hAZp71ezjAsFThFAthEI/s320/scoutsAtDogsHead+%25286_ed%2529.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This well-equipped boy scout troop is part of a contingent of more than a hundred eager lads from all over
Australia who detrained at various points between Tunbridge and Ross
and hiked in to camp near Dogs Head for a weekend of
energetic activity in 1927.<br />
<br />
In 1933-34 a similar event was organised, this time on the Dogs Head itself. A camp site was established and a stone circle with a flagpole in the middle was
constructed to mark the corroboree ground.<br />
<br />
Here is the map they followed in 1933.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AuxzMVIu5E4sXODc6NOoK4sTxpRq-Z7sdwu_syqLoL0B8_eOCMU9t9STFqaVQNnellWjC8qwbEsM6zLjkjOL7xasS8uOT-ZH9Zij0hkAv47OkFi_Ihyyg2oqeIz1-cyfoMxTng1QwOA/s1600/corroboreeMap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4AuxzMVIu5E4sXODc6NOoK4sTxpRq-Z7sdwu_syqLoL0B8_eOCMU9t9STFqaVQNnellWjC8qwbEsM6zLjkjOL7xasS8uOT-ZH9Zij0hkAv47OkFi_Ihyyg2oqeIz1-cyfoMxTng1QwOA/s400/corroboreeMap.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
One does not simply walk in to Dogs Head these days</h3>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYLYOGSQwQz1NFb5G3B8gBhwDr0RfAKZmfgjY1DqGUNuT5bt0vN8aLlVtrjdkjjHu-Mgg0mTsD6tev0lW5vDucIwlNCQo2nW8xwAF4n62jIhJpMP9wE4jWFLS-CgXYUEuxxMzrtauq6Y/s1600/fb1_warning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYLYOGSQwQz1NFb5G3B8gBhwDr0RfAKZmfgjY1DqGUNuT5bt0vN8aLlVtrjdkjjHu-Mgg0mTsD6tev0lW5vDucIwlNCQo2nW8xwAF4n62jIhJpMP9wE4jWFLS-CgXYUEuxxMzrtauq6Y/s640/fb1_warning.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
After much persistent detective work and many emails our walk
co-ordinator managed to track down the current owner to get
permission to enter the property. The manager arranged to drive over
from Waddamana, unlock the gate, and warn the shooters of our
presence. We turn up to meet him at Interlaken on a sunny Sunday
morning.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfPo35oXYcWs640UyMdNXqoIgOtR7CxZetnBfnxRk7deDfic-fTvibMKBcxT2MpEj9wYsoN_Y4Ty_bSe32QFjege5I2s37SKID-glmEwiX2egNkSzG8-T__iJT0mfCbDGit9QZOMp0ZU/s1600/fb2_Liaison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfPo35oXYcWs640UyMdNXqoIgOtR7CxZetnBfnxRk7deDfic-fTvibMKBcxT2MpEj9wYsoN_Y4Ty_bSe32QFjege5I2s37SKID-glmEwiX2egNkSzG8-T__iJT0mfCbDGit9QZOMp0ZU/s320/fb2_Liaison.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Walks
co-ordinator talks to the property manager</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbENO-JNMl4DpWhXuhMNv6JvSXhHYZSXbb-njr9jxUygZxKmMFmtRZpxWfJ-5rt-D0HLh1Xcw1Umr8DqHXT6SD9yLqOm5sr9alsBcQFyZvbVGsRdIDBK1sXr31gb_bIrmpA6BoIWM8X6U/s1600/fb3_preparation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbENO-JNMl4DpWhXuhMNv6JvSXhHYZSXbb-njr9jxUygZxKmMFmtRZpxWfJ-5rt-D0HLh1Xcw1Umr8DqHXT6SD9yLqOm5sr9alsBcQFyZvbVGsRdIDBK1sXr31gb_bIrmpA6BoIWM8X6U/s320/fb3_preparation.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
the rest of us prepare to walk</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The area on this side of Lake Sorell could hardly be described as
pristine. Sheep and cattle have grazed here since the early
nineteenth century, generations of wood-cutters have harvested
fenceposts and firewood. The bush is criss-crossed by a maze of old
tracks used by shepherds, woodcutters, fishermen and shooters.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQppgCrWTLjNb3z8r4C0NsohXpfxbs2YvNQE3kKqfJo1xA1rndiJkmUlVvcsqQnduJQsWN-U1LjBFVDTiACWSnQXSUDGq5JedAGNgJWW7P9vh1_vzcw7eokqYY-bwtyKymszvNs56P6s/s1600/fb5_road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQppgCrWTLjNb3z8r4C0NsohXpfxbs2YvNQE3kKqfJo1xA1rndiJkmUlVvcsqQnduJQsWN-U1LjBFVDTiACWSnQXSUDGq5JedAGNgJWW7P9vh1_vzcw7eokqYY-bwtyKymszvNs56P6s/s320/fb5_road.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There are two very serious new roads into the property, but as
Bushwalkers we scorn the well-marked route and strike off into the
scrub following a compass bearing.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The first thing we find is an old log-loading ramp, a good place for
morning tea.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYljFmCdTDeCKzRoOIhYYlq5566BLTcLNWbfULwD57-KX1SKoXFVgOHxmynlSAIWLRoH1QZ-Sjx3x3sEE0yQF4OzFxdbXRSUa48dOK3obzSMkLEEWfvP0tx1vs2B7yJumtCJl-ROj0nMY/s1600/fb4_loadingRamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYljFmCdTDeCKzRoOIhYYlq5566BLTcLNWbfULwD57-KX1SKoXFVgOHxmynlSAIWLRoH1QZ-Sjx3x3sEE0yQF4OzFxdbXRSUa48dOK3obzSMkLEEWfvP0tx1vs2B7yJumtCJl-ROj0nMY/s320/fb4_loadingRamp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A visitor to the area a couple of years ago has given the
co-ordinator a map with various interesting features marked on it,
and the intention is to visit each in turn, making a relatively
short, easy walk into an entertaining treasure-hunt. Item number one
is a volcanic plug. None of us has been here before; nobody knows
what to look for.</div>
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
First Achievement unlocked</h3>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TPKZm07SbA6qhSzO2tu2jqFuVaGFhDGYCWf7ZAo9AtX-bnqr1iX3Ut3wZEOeWCdQXMxj6n6za_4GtbiWI064BQ1d6OTkfJ-4DE8ujmoU87etnE9lqNViYsNC6_-rDM1r3MJcmYPrXMs/s1600/fb6_volcanicPlug1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TPKZm07SbA6qhSzO2tu2jqFuVaGFhDGYCWf7ZAo9AtX-bnqr1iX3Ut3wZEOeWCdQXMxj6n6za_4GtbiWI064BQ1d6OTkfJ-4DE8ujmoU87etnE9lqNViYsNC6_-rDM1r3MJcmYPrXMs/s320/fb6_volcanicPlug1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Is
it this rocky knoll?</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZkGhwZe69yRNaBetGv0c7c5p-BjTvSRnrqrhMfalv2FvCkHXLok2DFE2Owo8JCtt7TvxQ_WSOUCd2fffyPYs_m7yLxKenBJ-Yw31YmUVW4oFd62zQOEwixmINQ_um1HOARsEklVGTXU/s1600/fb7_volcanicPlug2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZkGhwZe69yRNaBetGv0c7c5p-BjTvSRnrqrhMfalv2FvCkHXLok2DFE2Owo8JCtt7TvxQ_WSOUCd2fffyPYs_m7yLxKenBJ-Yw31YmUVW4oFd62zQOEwixmINQ_um1HOARsEklVGTXU/s320/fb7_volcanicPlug2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Or this
rocky outcrop that seems to describe a rough circle?</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We finally settle on a stony protruberance at the highest spot on
this part of the map.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbIbq67wyAJBrmQQYqmyJvSKJ-ROnS4a7XMDpLlIYDwRFdFcB0SUMjX-HYZQA2UDo9sjaxg_5nn4k843EXrsP-QMNgU00WfpZc_1Uel1Rk7EPl9akL7AD4vAJ_0Wgs36-Q1BTDmpIbb0/s1600/fb10_volcanicPlug5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbIbq67wyAJBrmQQYqmyJvSKJ-ROnS4a7XMDpLlIYDwRFdFcB0SUMjX-HYZQA2UDo9sjaxg_5nn4k843EXrsP-QMNgU00WfpZc_1Uel1Rk7EPl9akL7AD4vAJ_0Wgs36-Q1BTDmpIbb0/s320/fb10_volcanicPlug5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vDishZo7GKo89omo_gea1I6YWQhlVSuRcErOOD0vwYPmuRGQm4605yzxLUqq8tItsfT7VHUIveWDEJ5YOlWytGdU0dZbzDm2tfMOfXPHIwrIVJjh1nVyXK-w0Mb2VQLmyQXOkq9XLko/s1600/fb8_volcanicPlug3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vDishZo7GKo89omo_gea1I6YWQhlVSuRcErOOD0vwYPmuRGQm4605yzxLUqq8tItsfT7VHUIveWDEJ5YOlWytGdU0dZbzDm2tfMOfXPHIwrIVJjh1nVyXK-w0Mb2VQLmyQXOkq9XLko/s320/fb8_volcanicPlug3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can see Lake Sorell from up here!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtxofxBMrYPgRnIZxmOtb7gvW3apUxZ4VnTItp5vCzmf6-mqXOY62a2qDPwS3ciuvndIm2-0gwcxKCd-7G75USO4lSip3QwtY4QMjUKUxIN67K7EVQMw27BngCFwR2MtlVD41B4Oqzys/s1600/fb9_volcanicPlug4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtxofxBMrYPgRnIZxmOtb7gvW3apUxZ4VnTItp5vCzmf6-mqXOY62a2qDPwS3ciuvndIm2-0gwcxKCd-7G75USO4lSip3QwtY4QMjUKUxIN67K7EVQMw27BngCFwR2MtlVD41B4Oqzys/s320/fb9_volcanicPlug4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THAT isn't on our map</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Having achieved our first objective, we plunge into the bush again.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFDxsk_LHugXV40ZjXlRFVrlx568ZG46lOvtMDiYPwiwRQM-Rydl10syl6nxKcYzwriBY1OD7LJo1UzZEzLqmSky3Tdo3V2Eiquq_q9T1-yFmxMaMs5T-iTLbZa19HKUfM7lX9mrdTqk/s1600/fb11_bush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFDxsk_LHugXV40ZjXlRFVrlx568ZG46lOvtMDiYPwiwRQM-Rydl10syl6nxKcYzwriBY1OD7LJo1UzZEzLqmSky3Tdo3V2Eiquq_q9T1-yFmxMaMs5T-iTLbZa19HKUfM7lX9mrdTqk/s320/fb11_bush.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYD5iZeYcqYghuJ-542jJByNvWHdHHjHnwPQi1bWxKbiNclPIqTpUZvv7TjBSq-YLSXINAY4XYHr_t-rLWaL0YOJNlqXoASgZPYCJ-HwOcLcWEO87MJ_o7_0voMEyAssYe3yQENB0BMM/s1600/fb12_track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYD5iZeYcqYghuJ-542jJByNvWHdHHjHnwPQi1bWxKbiNclPIqTpUZvv7TjBSq-YLSXINAY4XYHr_t-rLWaL0YOJNlqXoASgZPYCJ-HwOcLcWEO87MJ_o7_0voMEyAssYe3yQENB0BMM/s320/fb12_track.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5urayboJ0-RK5Tw9f-Ouss-A8xZsSBDilDSrDe0IRy0OTDWoVwt9GRAFuxRKsXSJWaW0nzTzzmJw0ZV68zR5x8HTcN29VEDpITz5R517fRZVf6TpJIoniGp4b23tkPfsr5NpFoKrOj1w/s1600/fb13_bush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5urayboJ0-RK5Tw9f-Ouss-A8xZsSBDilDSrDe0IRy0OTDWoVwt9GRAFuxRKsXSJWaW0nzTzzmJw0ZV68zR5x8HTcN29VEDpITz5R517fRZVf6TpJIoniGp4b23tkPfsr5NpFoKrOj1w/s320/fb13_bush.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoifvQqKmVIEmCBpoLCJsfKBO4JE-Bk1IOk2WLxhXnYPMXbaIV71zNkAI89prz9eFCH_2UutD1nakllJ2J16kjoo2Aijt_Sdu8ZwTgHHrLthp8-WNyIM18YOzJ4dUZ7VOkCV1MKb_AH0/s1600/fb14_rocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHoifvQqKmVIEmCBpoLCJsfKBO4JE-Bk1IOk2WLxhXnYPMXbaIV71zNkAI89prz9eFCH_2UutD1nakllJ2J16kjoo2Aijt_Sdu8ZwTgHHrLthp8-WNyIM18YOzJ4dUZ7VOkCV1MKb_AH0/s320/fb14_rocks.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We follow an old snigging track, bash our way through a lot of
totally unnecessary shrubbery and scramble over some rocks just because
they're there. </div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWgesZHg-cbKsIuJ2aVzBF7rqlh72db7SFnd27kogrIQM2YA42sTDq0inFD9bdlYpXOSKTjchv_5VQLkZ_eFbtJxDaYx7a5NgiqBr_IuBZJvDGWns-StC2MGVJc3gNvqpyTD5Ndbo97Q/s1600/fb15_road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWgesZHg-cbKsIuJ2aVzBF7rqlh72db7SFnd27kogrIQM2YA42sTDq0inFD9bdlYpXOSKTjchv_5VQLkZ_eFbtJxDaYx7a5NgiqBr_IuBZJvDGWns-StC2MGVJc3gNvqpyTD5Ndbo97Q/s200/fb15_road.jpg" width="151" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
At last, feeling we've proved our point, we relent and
return to the road, which leads us straight to our next objective –
the remains of Thomas Meagher's house.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The Irish Exiles</h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>The
"Dog's Head" . . . is a fine promontory running about a
mile out into the lake, and fringed all round with noble trees. In a
snug cove at the northern side of the "Dog's Head" is a
stone house inhabited by the shepherd in charge of a large flock
belonging to a Mr. Clarke.</i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>We pass
the Dog's Head promontory, and enter a rough winding path cut among
the trees, which brings us to a quiet bay, or deep curve of the lake,
at the head of which, facing one of the most glorious scenes of
fairy-land, with the clear waters rippling at its feet, and a dense
forest around and behind it, stands our friend's quiet cottage. On
the veranda we are welcomed by the Lady of this sylvan hermitage, and
spend a pleasant hour, till dinner-time, sauntering on the lake
shore.</i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It was 1851, and John Mitchel, on the way home from Ross to Bothwell,
was visiting fellow-exile Thomas Meagher and his wife Catherine. This
is the view he was describing; we stand in front of Mr Meagher's
living room fireplace on the shore of Lake Sorell, with the Dogs Head
in the middle distance.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte8F8Vy8S0Pqn0tsbRTmxl-Kj98GpyiMovTvRW5Efe74ohvix8tEReD6-97NWorGB0WCVQYKnbkhb7BVn0mYY7hoKldLJZQ4IkW4pWR71nI3gPf-i35_nVFwgQ5mJcEkliZW8WsJHb_Y/s1600/fb18_DogsHead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte8F8Vy8S0Pqn0tsbRTmxl-Kj98GpyiMovTvRW5Efe74ohvix8tEReD6-97NWorGB0WCVQYKnbkhb7BVn0mYY7hoKldLJZQ4IkW4pWR71nI3gPf-i35_nVFwgQ5mJcEkliZW8WsJHb_Y/s400/fb18_DogsHead.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Mitchel and Meagher were two of six Irish Exiles transported to Van
Diemens Land for their part in the 1848 rebellion against British
rule. As political prisoners they were regarded, and regarded
themselves, as superior to the rest of the convicts.
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Having given their word they would not attempt to escape, the
Irishmen were allowed to live as free men, provided only that they
remained in their specified district and reported to the police each
week. Intelligent, educated men, they quickly made friends among the
settlers and to all intents and purposes settled in to colonial
society. Meagher bought the land at Lake Sorell, built a house and
married a local woman, Catherine Bennett. He planted oats and
potatoes, kept livestock and had a couple of men working for him.
Mitchel's wife and family came from Ireland to join him at Bothwell.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWoX0DxD9kpHbB3yahzUEsO4ohrFkXmDuYL46bFsx0AWnUZYXMbWCo-qQCoQ5GRZn-98bY36wHScSmgV_nmLMccHzVKlnjCF1FKEcmtFZOBTLaMvHdFbMuccjH1MboSghmfDv0E1Fg_o/s1600/fb16_cottage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWoX0DxD9kpHbB3yahzUEsO4ohrFkXmDuYL46bFsx0AWnUZYXMbWCo-qQCoQ5GRZn-98bY36wHScSmgV_nmLMccHzVKlnjCF1FKEcmtFZOBTLaMvHdFbMuccjH1MboSghmfDv0E1Fg_o/s320/fb16_cottage.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">remains of chimney - Thomas Francis Meagher's house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Although the Irishmen were not supposed to have any contact with each
other, four of them, John Mitchel, John Martin (both of whom lived at
Bothwell), Kevin O'Doherty and Thomas Meagher were, according to
Mitchel <i>in the habit of meeting almost every week at those lakes [Meagher's house], which is against rule to be sure, but the authorities connive at it – thinking probably that no great or immediate harm can accrue to the British empire thereby.</i><br />
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
On the surface they appeared to have accepted their fate, and,
indeed, both Meagher and Mitchel greatly admired the Tasmanian
landscape and climate and, grudgingly, some of its people. However,
their political aspirations and their determination to return home
remained unabated and one way or another each of them “formally
withdrew his parole” and escaped over the next few years. Meagher's
house fell into ruin and all trace of the oats and potatoes he had
planted vanished. His son Henry, born a few weeks after his escape,
died in infancy and is buried in the Roman Catholic cemetery at
Richmond. Catherine sailed for Ireland in 1853 where she died a year
or two later at the age of twenty two. Meagher himself drowned in the
Missouri in 1867.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Having lunched in Mr Meagher's dining room and ticked off item two on
our list, we follow the shoreline to a pretty beach along the side of
the Dogs Head.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQg-m4KKGCIPf5bXwM6_thXKywAD7oqBP2ciXVUBI-E9FyD1NVAWWmg61evkl1rly-46rnUPOmfN6HPwPqhiRVC1D9DDh0i6EK6legNAZmsClRIKNDTm8KdR2XO7EFpEmNdDsiaV1x9w/s1600/fb18a_beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQg-m4KKGCIPf5bXwM6_thXKywAD7oqBP2ciXVUBI-E9FyD1NVAWWmg61evkl1rly-46rnUPOmfN6HPwPqhiRVC1D9DDh0i6EK6legNAZmsClRIKNDTm8KdR2XO7EFpEmNdDsiaV1x9w/s320/fb18a_beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3FNKWfp0tS8CBoH5eEXlNnE4XVTVXv9FaKV5FKW2I1ibjSQkjmh3yxs6GbZb1kn71AnULCLWkiumDFWpmRgsyYxis61YoXGeVM55VuQTQRjAde5DVPi_BDXhQuDWDxen1iRPg4eiodI/s1600/fb19_beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3FNKWfp0tS8CBoH5eEXlNnE4XVTVXv9FaKV5FKW2I1ibjSQkjmh3yxs6GbZb1kn71AnULCLWkiumDFWpmRgsyYxis61YoXGeVM55VuQTQRjAde5DVPi_BDXhQuDWDxen1iRPg4eiodI/s320/fb19_beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Evil Fish</h3>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYva1f_nanATVeOB9UuinIa8ujNlidHWeKSWXXFzNg98yyEIjQfyjYSxOGCf5SZlEY7w85tovL50kUdNiOIrF5mJfpuOCOZSPbUhZWmT0XNEXriPdkucSdZeve0I7q0Y22jm4MO0xV5w/s1600/scoutsAtDogsHead+%25282_ed%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYva1f_nanATVeOB9UuinIa8ujNlidHWeKSWXXFzNg98yyEIjQfyjYSxOGCf5SZlEY7w85tovL50kUdNiOIrF5mJfpuOCOZSPbUhZWmT0XNEXriPdkucSdZeve0I7q0Y22jm4MO0xV5w/s320/scoutsAtDogsHead+%25282_ed%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a> Mitchel remarked that below Meagher's house a<i> little wooden jetty
runs out some yards into the lake; and at anchor, near the end of the
jetty, lies the "Speranza", a new boat built at
Hobart-town, and hauled up here, through Bothwell, a distance of
seventy-five miles, by six bullocks. </i></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The friends enjoyed several
pleasant excursions on the lake, the beauties of which Mitchel
described in extravagant terms. The scouts enjoyed it, too, although
they probably didn't write about it quite so eloquently.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymciuBw1rvV1Df6_5ZM1ztskuZ6NCUEzvdb_GsJBf5Ebm66jjX-_lQabWSFefQ5rrNg3i60GuXJmQVfcaznOAvuqqkIgwtPIynvUr7fK3fUrUDAPdT2qav-6Z67CaVoyd1qn0BqBQ3Ok/s1600/fb20_net.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymciuBw1rvV1Df6_5ZM1ztskuZ6NCUEzvdb_GsJBf5Ebm66jjX-_lQabWSFefQ5rrNg3i60GuXJmQVfcaznOAvuqqkIgwtPIynvUr7fK3fUrUDAPdT2qav-6Z67CaVoyd1qn0BqBQ3Ok/s320/fb20_net.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We, alas, had no boat. In fact, Lake Sorell is currently closed to
boating and fishing as the Inland Fisheries Service works to
eliminate European Carp, first identified here in 1995. Carp can only
spawn in the warmer shallows around the edges of the lake, and nets
to exclude them from these areas are proving effective. Various
measures have been taken to eradicate the fish from Lake Crescent,
and it is hoped they are all gone from Lake Sorell. Until this is
confirmed, however, the lake remains closed.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Natural Wonders</h3>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Our next objective is the Ice Folds. None of us knows what they are,
either, but according to the map they are on the other side of Dogs
Head.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The top of Dogs Head is a boring, barren, rock-strewn paddock with a
few trees around the edges. On the far side, however, it proves
anything but boring. The rock looks as if it has been split away from
the side of the promontory; or like the ruined defensive walls and
trenches of a vast and ancient fortification. For me, this amazing
formation is the highlight of the walk. Tick number three.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22RNixMMxqdHWd3kiB-seqNiDaAXbyqU5Tf39uRI32lKxD0acSJNUGXvMjYfHv04XGkTaHZCLHpM-8e67o8ojzg7iogW35Zbqp1PqCrLgleQwqEQU26MxnNklnnJziShdL4vA0IA6p1c/s1600/fb21_iceFolds1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22RNixMMxqdHWd3kiB-seqNiDaAXbyqU5Tf39uRI32lKxD0acSJNUGXvMjYfHv04XGkTaHZCLHpM-8e67o8ojzg7iogW35Zbqp1PqCrLgleQwqEQU26MxnNklnnJziShdL4vA0IA6p1c/s400/fb21_iceFolds1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Our next objective is an eagle's nest. I can't resist photographing
this gothic arrangement as we retrace our steps along the promontory</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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.<br />
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
After stopping to inspect every stand of trees somebody suddenly
spots the nest – up there!</div>
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<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />Mission Accomplished</h3>
<div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The afternoon is drawing on and it is decided to forego a visit to
the site of the shepherd's hut, mentioned by Mr Mitchel and marked on
our map. But the Corroboree Ground is a must.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In fact, it's not far past the eagle's nest. There is a small cairn
where the flagpole once stood; the cement is crumbling from between
the rocks, but the date, “1933” is still legible on the top.
Around it is a large circle of stones set neatly in the ground.</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Having congratulated ourselves we set off happily to hike back to the
gate. No messing around this time – straight down the road. The
manager and his wife are waiting for us along the way. We chat for a
few minutes then it's back to the cars and home. We have completed
our quest!</div>
<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="western" lang="en-AU" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-size: x-small;">ref: quotations are from Mitchel. John. <i>Jail Journal, Or, Five Years in British Prisons</i>. New York. 1854</span></div>
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Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com1Central Plateau, TAS, Australia-42.104191432691117 147.21262913515625-42.292879932691115 146.88990563515625 -41.915502932691119 147.53535263515624tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-5978055735004723792016-03-23T01:15:00.000+11:002016-04-07T21:34:07.756+10:00Never too old to go walkingThis is my Mum, Joyce Jones. She's in her nineties.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvje1Y6EEtlvefnC1Og1D77I5cpbalZbMTQluaWHpAxqNvBZt8Ns-HWe1t6dQGoNl2TDYj8syU7fPJeD1sLywzvCXN6V17lQM1b5jcXW4tR50ySeR4HziFVxZzSnNhwwC75DANCEZhyphenhyphenU/s1600/fb_Mum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvje1Y6EEtlvefnC1Og1D77I5cpbalZbMTQluaWHpAxqNvBZt8Ns-HWe1t6dQGoNl2TDYj8syU7fPJeD1sLywzvCXN6V17lQM1b5jcXW4tR50ySeR4HziFVxZzSnNhwwC75DANCEZhyphenhyphenU/s320/fb_Mum.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
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Back in the 1970s she and a group of friends arranged to go bushwalking together every second Tuesday, and for nearly forty years they have continued meeting. There has never been an organisational structure; no membership fees or committee meetings. At the end of each walk they decide where to go in a fortnight's time, where to meet, at what time. Anyone is welcome to bring friends, <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeku33TS3GYpZKbjHNXsjKSwEMr1QZirzVWgKaJ56km4ljPahQBwEwvnfGAzjeWddWNNrmiIWt9hGZ5ymw-VzoY7asUmge5ooJ2uBpwO93CE4-xqDwrs404nhIpAeeRrRmtCP8728KIXg/s1600/fb_books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeku33TS3GYpZKbjHNXsjKSwEMr1QZirzVWgKaJ56km4ljPahQBwEwvnfGAzjeWddWNNrmiIWt9hGZ5ymw-VzoY7asUmge5ooJ2uBpwO93CE4-xqDwrs404nhIpAeeRrRmtCP8728KIXg/s200/fb_books.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsudBEhhHdZUifX2fLGuRXnEFT5mhLBO9Bp_xfEaDN82Td3JNJwAxJ-dqAkCy6ycQlojYy2A2myaB9b7PkD7QRavifQPtsfWH0Lqxbm_ZFBiWirQSdHzCdFmtFjGjKU0gBTHRCLxTSOeE/s1600/fb_diaries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsudBEhhHdZUifX2fLGuRXnEFT5mhLBO9Bp_xfEaDN82Td3JNJwAxJ-dqAkCy6ycQlojYy2A2myaB9b7PkD7QRavifQPtsfWH0Lqxbm_ZFBiWirQSdHzCdFmtFjGjKU0gBTHRCLxTSOeE/s320/fb_diaries.jpg" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the index</td></tr>
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Over the years people have come and gone, and now Mum's the only remaining member of the original group. Every walk they have done has been meticulously recorded - where they went, how long it took, who attended.<br />
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There are 224 walks from the beginning of 1978 to the middle of 1989 recorded in the white exercise book; the blue one, "Book no. 3" records walks nos. 427 - 621, beginning at the start of 1999. I haven't been able to get hold of the current diary, so I don't know what number today's walk was.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSUFFlIZMipUk4DAlY4_KsO4o5bVVB-4dzOpC4pXbja3rWSZNPZReqaX7U-W8aEbA6MbJF70SAy7j0vxsSXFsq1P0OWSWw_du2I5Vo9D6hATfNzHk46R0U4E40YBt5LOCBAE9ta2n3MA/s1600/walksDiary_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSUFFlIZMipUk4DAlY4_KsO4o5bVVB-4dzOpC4pXbja3rWSZNPZReqaX7U-W8aEbA6MbJF70SAy7j0vxsSXFsq1P0OWSWw_du2I5Vo9D6hATfNzHk46R0U4E40YBt5LOCBAE9ta2n3MA/s400/walksDiary_1.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on August 28 1979 the group climbed Cathedral Rock</td></tr>
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Today the group had decided to visit the historic Ida Bay Railway at Lune River and walk out towards Southport Lagoon. Mum enlisted my services as driver. I must admit, herding five elderly bush walkers, three of whom are deaf and one practically blind, had its moments, but we arrived in time for the essential "elevenses" before clambering on board for our seven km journey to Deep Hole.<br />
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I love the Ida Bay Railway. It is a lovely clunky, rattling crawl through the bush; at the right time of year the wildflowers are magnificent. Today wasn't quite the right time of year, but the weather was perfect and a great flock of black swans was feeding in the bay.<br />
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The railway is also a bit quiet at this time of year, so they were running only one more trip today; this meant we had only two hours for a walk. So off we went towards Southport Lagoon.<br />
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Forty years ago my companions were striding out along the South Coast track and scrambling up and down mountains, but time has taken its toll. We ambled along at a leisurely pace, listening to birds and admiring the scenery and the party nagged each other about putting on hats and doing up shoelaces and carrying bags and jumpers in more sensible and convenient ways.<br />
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After an hour, we could see Southport Lagoon in the distance but we had a train to catch. An obligatory lunch break, then a slightly quicker return to Deep Hole as it's downhill and the scenery had already been admired. A very young and foolish marsupial, confused by our presence, posed for its photograph along the way.<br />
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We had a few minutes' wait at Deep Hole, a chance to stroll along the embankment that once led to a long jetty where limestone was loaded onto ships for transport to Electrona. Then back to Lune River on our train, accompanied by a large pod of dolphins frolicking alongside us in Major Honors Bay. Magic!<br />
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An icecream in the sunshine finished the day off nicely.<br />
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Mum has gone home to write up the Walks Diary.<br />
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Here are the photos.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1oHlClseiJ7xsvKPTuuS7zmaviar8u9zGj-MK0I22aJEdqHqJqATcP0_0ZXzyP5WT2hcwfrmq5fJ2MTZH0JdzMZNBUW9KX-4Rm13bwkZ6lejZ5g573bCq5w01ZiGMg7U7D9V7a0IwDE/s1600/fb_cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1oHlClseiJ7xsvKPTuuS7zmaviar8u9zGj-MK0I22aJEdqHqJqATcP0_0ZXzyP5WT2hcwfrmq5fJ2MTZH0JdzMZNBUW9KX-4Rm13bwkZ6lejZ5g573bCq5w01ZiGMg7U7D9V7a0IwDE/s320/fb_cafe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdgqB-l9xmd1jCxabXwA51NI5Lx-sC41qi1WdRXw3Q4BHaWdWJgJSI1GNktzaHra_epBzXnjnr0YQhw4l8zgdn1eD218CvbQNmQh8mTglsP2AHsUZ3p3GAMOxyYAQxbCBbFH4zM9pnH0c/s1600/fb_elevenses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdgqB-l9xmd1jCxabXwA51NI5Lx-sC41qi1WdRXw3Q4BHaWdWJgJSI1GNktzaHra_epBzXnjnr0YQhw4l8zgdn1eD218CvbQNmQh8mTglsP2AHsUZ3p3GAMOxyYAQxbCBbFH4zM9pnH0c/s320/fb_elevenses.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fortification before the journey</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ne_JGIHHOvNl7zq-Zw9SeDSDXw9GHNu1fFrqsBlluQEEjY3EvpUdvXFz6RNz3qx1HLe0myQBlut5JvyXNFJQgOfAGAv0nVYRV5T3P2cUBdMMnSXsEVOg3x-nAj9op5tIFmXWMgH6bT8/s1600/fb_bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ne_JGIHHOvNl7zq-Zw9SeDSDXw9GHNu1fFrqsBlluQEEjY3EvpUdvXFz6RNz3qx1HLe0myQBlut5JvyXNFJQgOfAGAv0nVYRV5T3P2cUBdMMnSXsEVOg3x-nAj9op5tIFmXWMgH6bT8/s320/fb_bay.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the tramway runs alongside Jagers Bay on its way to Deep Hole</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIUw5sAIFovr2Emc4day_JomcDCK1WCKmCzvwPo2Oph9r40LyCn-fKpm8IhXPEO-EtZT2P8IwObiTiN8g_C_IeEn9EhY-OiOEcAj8qH1BcLa7qJ1MKG5qN2VhCPdNhKtJnqxwo1Qbw8I/s1600/fb_track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIUw5sAIFovr2Emc4day_JomcDCK1WCKmCzvwPo2Oph9r40LyCn-fKpm8IhXPEO-EtZT2P8IwObiTiN8g_C_IeEn9EhY-OiOEcAj8qH1BcLa7qJ1MKG5qN2VhCPdNhKtJnqxwo1Qbw8I/s320/fb_track.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the track to Southport Lagoon</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpMgFTJXMQxGmKjGwfxNs29QHamG7s8klgIgcrR6P12oE-H6KKULEo4MmqadtEMxDHBMElWSf56Y-VefpJe6LdnZTl6IRNquA3bZXOPKwHM5lv4i1CHP2tVHDXbBHMsEQQeHr2S1yLkk/s1600/fb_lunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpMgFTJXMQxGmKjGwfxNs29QHamG7s8klgIgcrR6P12oE-H6KKULEo4MmqadtEMxDHBMElWSf56Y-VefpJe6LdnZTl6IRNquA3bZXOPKwHM5lv4i1CHP2tVHDXbBHMsEQQeHr2S1yLkk/s320/fb_lunch.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">another essential ritual - lunch</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpbQWdatkCVr3rY5Vw9cviUq82t6_wdpjDYUxKmVo8aa78xMHCThx3D04yr_fZ4jvxl0raPeTJ5rZVYKovDGKZ0WYNAEJNSxC-SytU8GNjpf2nL2SSPoQjCoNojTnPH06TOJeeN60ajs/s1600/fb_photo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpbQWdatkCVr3rY5Vw9cviUq82t6_wdpjDYUxKmVo8aa78xMHCThx3D04yr_fZ4jvxl0raPeTJ5rZVYKovDGKZ0WYNAEJNSxC-SytU8GNjpf2nL2SSPoQjCoNojTnPH06TOJeeN60ajs/s320/fb_photo1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the photographer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rJ2PBbNMlH2zYt63d9f5wBOjbhZsFScPBSuNk3WjdhhgsTM4kaJbFj02BPIk328-xb0NPs-U145ckhOP46D2oxxngfvs8UFBNQLm8NgRDb_u9oNVMruADkcvNO7ue9ERRgEUTLlM_8E/s1600/fb_photo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rJ2PBbNMlH2zYt63d9f5wBOjbhZsFScPBSuNk3WjdhhgsTM4kaJbFj02BPIk328-xb0NPs-U145ckhOP46D2oxxngfvs8UFBNQLm8NgRDb_u9oNVMruADkcvNO7ue9ERRgEUTLlM_8E/s320/fb_photo2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the subject</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXfTNYB9H_8siIV-4CTHosu0O-kMPH1p1wt5yC0jMoEJvpLul58gV16RjP9N105GADlsmCq8GgIhEwxWcz7RXtZvkEdfkt8ZgDNSCL8UrHbostkH0iMaLZcycjoxdrR6hrjuMQcMOjRs/s1600/fb_DeepHole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXfTNYB9H_8siIV-4CTHosu0O-kMPH1p1wt5yC0jMoEJvpLul58gV16RjP9N105GADlsmCq8GgIhEwxWcz7RXtZvkEdfkt8ZgDNSCL8UrHbostkH0iMaLZcycjoxdrR6hrjuMQcMOjRs/s320/fb_DeepHole.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our ride home</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnO7n9l6DpEh6kJz_xBEhigjjGCm78HdjlS-fXo-0DG1s869nsXNr1zamh_zgI4929aoC0wvmDYvThp7YVF6qeG3qk-aK0je4QyeHftcfgGWYihqfm3wu23U4W5iSKM_Tgnx9mO-o_3R4/s1600/fb_DeepHole1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnO7n9l6DpEh6kJz_xBEhigjjGCm78HdjlS-fXo-0DG1s869nsXNr1zamh_zgI4929aoC0wvmDYvThp7YVF6qeG3qk-aK0je4QyeHftcfgGWYihqfm3wu23U4W5iSKM_Tgnx9mO-o_3R4/s320/fb_DeepHole1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deep Hole Bay, Elliot Beach</td></tr>
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This is a video I posted a couple of years ago about the Ida Bay Tramway:<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj3RMY_6OEo" target="_blank">www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj3RMY_6OEo</a><br />
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The weather wasn't as nice on that occasion.<br />
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<br />Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Lune River TAS, Australia-43.4284189 146.90559740000003-43.520669399999996 146.74423590000004 -43.3361684 147.06695890000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3718081325680999354.post-48423685497578942162016-03-11T03:45:00.001+11:002016-04-27T20:52:30.778+10:00Ups and Downs on the PeninsulaSome photos of a recent walk on the Tasman Peninsula to Salters Point, returning via Curio Bay.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vfVHR5TP0CZJyLh1UWSBnDXt52fjNxGnKZhWmlIB7Pt7ykKyur-_HFpPbRIOIXymvNjCk4LMqoexAX0plbWJhSbxxBFP2ai4vJHq6bxVN0aljk3blJ3q2hoNfPvFVpBCeYbQt8rnZn8/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1vfVHR5TP0CZJyLh1UWSBnDXt52fjNxGnKZhWmlIB7Pt7ykKyur-_HFpPbRIOIXymvNjCk4LMqoexAX0plbWJhSbxxBFP2ai4vJHq6bxVN0aljk3blJ3q2hoNfPvFVpBCeYbQt8rnZn8/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25281%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">reaching the lookout above Tunnel Bay</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmblliv3URHpailT4aScwAOWlJHH8sfu5w1m4tvW15spErNWKbIlnYJkGsGfPxg-tCu3tR8lDqI99R_N1VtBEPGLzZ4SVBqrrdWR2bqbMNbbu64NR7KQcY1xCeQgxe7UTTj5Y5JHeaifQ/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmblliv3URHpailT4aScwAOWlJHH8sfu5w1m4tvW15spErNWKbIlnYJkGsGfPxg-tCu3tR8lDqI99R_N1VtBEPGLzZ4SVBqrrdWR2bqbMNbbu64NR7KQcY1xCeQgxe7UTTj5Y5JHeaifQ/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tunnel Bay and Shipstern Bluff </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60ZC7Bg3cPhhG72oHB_dsEdsec9C4yGTqu958Jb82GoVFHoTGb4_uLCN29pa5xx7qEamTBXsSkuEIMzG75JirQQtH0FzGqFpvytH_yH0Xl1fjOWUhmasrW4bRysY9Yp9wArZ6Ui_BxhQ/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60ZC7Bg3cPhhG72oHB_dsEdsec9C4yGTqu958Jb82GoVFHoTGb4_uLCN29pa5xx7qEamTBXsSkuEIMzG75JirQQtH0FzGqFpvytH_yH0Xl1fjOWUhmasrW4bRysY9Yp9wArZ6Ui_BxhQ/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25283%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">as above - ten minutes later as a sea mist rolled in</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDneDOi9H3pC2MLMieD-6bOgIClUYXI3gdf4jxixeMibM3smK0PUTD6CBe79scAU4flKMsciYOITn7LWZP-dAExYrL0AyouMQtCZ8wKTC3LW7QNg5uZKtKrLuJkwqHKkxmjpWM7-Bchc/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQDneDOi9H3pC2MLMieD-6bOgIClUYXI3gdf4jxixeMibM3smK0PUTD6CBe79scAU4flKMsciYOITn7LWZP-dAExYrL0AyouMQtCZ8wKTC3LW7QNg5uZKtKrLuJkwqHKkxmjpWM7-Bchc/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25284%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salters Point</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">This is an image from Google Map - it's the far side of Salters Point, </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">beyond what you can see in the photo above.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxa26_ESpHXF6SaJfX3YU3jWDK1R6UiD32155yM0W9Nug5sDpvD59fQeUr7g4_o1ZoJGpQrmCnxDmN4Sok-jiJmzbvHYQTUyOQWs7e2YUj87RM5JNmQ2l-uq_zqiKHEMivYIoO7IsyH0/s1600/GoogleMap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxa26_ESpHXF6SaJfX3YU3jWDK1R6UiD32155yM0W9Nug5sDpvD59fQeUr7g4_o1ZoJGpQrmCnxDmN4Sok-jiJmzbvHYQTUyOQWs7e2YUj87RM5JNmQ2l-uq_zqiKHEMivYIoO7IsyH0/s400/GoogleMap.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3bR2suQQzvpObl1108FSZsSJFhxP3zAsv4RPwozycv-90etu8gll1JVUjxXQbyC4sXVGcWVuC9M6FJpuA5I4rbNkZ_EA9drBZsHUADaS0NywJadphPrmdp4hrGac4D71D-5r-17p7gc/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3bR2suQQzvpObl1108FSZsSJFhxP3zAsv4RPwozycv-90etu8gll1JVUjxXQbyC4sXVGcWVuC9M6FJpuA5I4rbNkZ_EA9drBZsHUADaS0NywJadphPrmdp4hrGac4D71D-5r-17p7gc/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25285%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the obligatory photograph</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjOMZVkPiMVG20AlhLXHUjK7C8gr9NpspyoLrFolA2eU9R_A67YJVV3tOC9iXdihWxBJC5Pcert6GvcjOxPLnpbmAY8Q9EIFzItdc5dCA3yPCm6H_1TXyQW_mFPR5Lhv_vZ66hbli_nU/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25286%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjOMZVkPiMVG20AlhLXHUjK7C8gr9NpspyoLrFolA2eU9R_A67YJVV3tOC9iXdihWxBJC5Pcert6GvcjOxPLnpbmAY8Q9EIFzItdc5dCA3yPCm6H_1TXyQW_mFPR5Lhv_vZ66hbli_nU/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25286%2529.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">somehow a photograph completely fails to reproduce<br />
the sense of awe. It's a scary place.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKGP_AnuL23qIew8-LJw-0u1nTc7y0yyicgAz0CJqwaWS877ENboU-sY3ziOd12xNt4AlRkERWUJKA6vM1X_s65zL5RmKrylhgy-lD0zv72Sr2ybfVEg5ebKONpwANuUCaN3rZ0XERs4/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25288%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKGP_AnuL23qIew8-LJw-0u1nTc7y0yyicgAz0CJqwaWS877ENboU-sY3ziOd12xNt4AlRkERWUJKA6vM1X_s65zL5RmKrylhgy-lD0zv72Sr2ybfVEg5ebKONpwANuUCaN3rZ0XERs4/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25288%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctjZYuh7vrh37eTk6P9Z6trJu4IjnZPm5eEniV4-ZeNfRaqGl6hyI38sZPQCRiw4IkhhyMiUpC8zqPlZxRTfmjts_OkbB0QHFMBk6hg2Au9oq6Xo8y7bOAvi9WwN51bdJsaMupnyudRU/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25287%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctjZYuh7vrh37eTk6P9Z6trJu4IjnZPm5eEniV4-ZeNfRaqGl6hyI38sZPQCRiw4IkhhyMiUpC8zqPlZxRTfmjts_OkbB0QHFMBk6hg2Au9oq6Xo8y7bOAvi9WwN51bdJsaMupnyudRU/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25287%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">it's a long way down to the water</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdd1Dl3IEIT_K4LqIb7byeybOsja2QGefTCdAC_Wd7uqPH5gI3CdSjaoukCOAjF6Pl5iSP2jMtHtfxQS2AKCdUe-GWbR5ViVGlBOD7KJtHS_1wX9cGSbDQrjWkHZwy7lCGKQqxo4q7H0/s1600/DSCN3773_ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdd1Dl3IEIT_K4LqIb7byeybOsja2QGefTCdAC_Wd7uqPH5gI3CdSjaoukCOAjF6Pl5iSP2jMtHtfxQS2AKCdUe-GWbR5ViVGlBOD7KJtHS_1wX9cGSbDQrjWkHZwy7lCGKQqxo4q7H0/s400/DSCN3773_ed.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">impossible to photograph this blowhole - it's very, very<br />
deep - but not very wide</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZiLfoz325VV7FP6DLfoDdJfky-p7987sJAfv89gHgVODdAiEM1eDtYtOldu4xcHcui1ddD0ROIDn73lIuC8vU9It5gNrqkPZliDfjWTx6zOBbX6ZP7dMJ7tbueiwdPm0-DBG1MgffYY/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%25289%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZiLfoz325VV7FP6DLfoDdJfky-p7987sJAfv89gHgVODdAiEM1eDtYtOldu4xcHcui1ddD0ROIDn73lIuC8vU9It5gNrqkPZliDfjWTx6zOBbX6ZP7dMJ7tbueiwdPm0-DBG1MgffYY/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%25289%2529.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgah0T-cs6IDuaaZ5qpOZrlo__0vUkJXUPyVHeyjXEHDPrHwQtBYBWSpWMe4IoV47Kim9oaGCNcIfisnO2j8WPCQiQRL8O9EPCURs9aphkA8hA1fiiGGBpWi5OpFEqrWkNKIjnBpT1h-JY/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252810%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgah0T-cs6IDuaaZ5qpOZrlo__0vUkJXUPyVHeyjXEHDPrHwQtBYBWSpWMe4IoV47Kim9oaGCNcIfisnO2j8WPCQiQRL8O9EPCURs9aphkA8hA1fiiGGBpWi5OpFEqrWkNKIjnBpT1h-JY/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252810%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So where did YOU have lunch today?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa7f61krLuT_-DDd_jx_G1hcpVYwkHSXdwCNF7aLv5S2qNFBTCgS9FWivhOYiXvE-lGLeGoOl1hF7b_D_IAueOUYZEYzN8afKTZaXtHDRM-kQc7TSd2x1GrL0ZD3fwJm6eFgCSJTw5SU/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252811%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa7f61krLuT_-DDd_jx_G1hcpVYwkHSXdwCNF7aLv5S2qNFBTCgS9FWivhOYiXvE-lGLeGoOl1hF7b_D_IAueOUYZEYzN8afKTZaXtHDRM-kQc7TSd2x1GrL0ZD3fwJm6eFgCSJTw5SU/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252811%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">moving right along the coast</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0trKY-2MXxXo_W7O1-EDMKPLDU7cIZWbSr39HOuuIt_2IgfNm7C76OZuUrhBVwQgLARmjXETC3ozC8wFNO5uMNwd_2ud1ehBzQUz6JrUoDtQRBiQ-gCyO1-lJr7sSES14OVeIqeJCkg/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252812%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0trKY-2MXxXo_W7O1-EDMKPLDU7cIZWbSr39HOuuIt_2IgfNm7C76OZuUrhBVwQgLARmjXETC3ozC8wFNO5uMNwd_2ud1ehBzQUz6JrUoDtQRBiQ-gCyO1-lJr7sSES14OVeIqeJCkg/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252812%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we went down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxEgHtp_1_xIcQdidNp-uuYBZpUfFCjjV80fmD2GnLDXNwomlOtzFAkMcGuFHhYStM1O8DrlCmRsTOUm0od5yfHoweOWifd1VxE6qCKtNaZWjRRGCVm18r76hYbhQwByp3YE994YV8kWU/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252813%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxEgHtp_1_xIcQdidNp-uuYBZpUfFCjjV80fmD2GnLDXNwomlOtzFAkMcGuFHhYStM1O8DrlCmRsTOUm0od5yfHoweOWifd1VxE6qCKtNaZWjRRGCVm18r76hYbhQwByp3YE994YV8kWU/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252813%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUOrGjsSyy2FdWuTBcMiu-TvaScqOw_PU6JehOOECA2TWS6orcIhWDTgcFYYtbjbmpi4XeQgGd_9E7jWSqj1appdoxS6Cfxpz0I6IzxCb3KAc2nkmgbQ_hB1zAGm0MoCVCzJiR9p0An8/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252814%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUOrGjsSyy2FdWuTBcMiu-TvaScqOw_PU6JehOOECA2TWS6orcIhWDTgcFYYtbjbmpi4XeQgGd_9E7jWSqj1appdoxS6Cfxpz0I6IzxCb3KAc2nkmgbQ_hB1zAGm0MoCVCzJiR9p0An8/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252814%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">down again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3u-sBkgl6XeHpwZiArN5UHeNsmZHGsqga6Z41F-NSgxmZ51Ej0LgXKZjJjjBFjsaPvNbjLhv8E7z82yHvXbu5jsmpsARKy8eilQoZ0jFzh0nYEBK6yyJpCJvx3L09uei0ycK6UA07fIY/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252815%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3u-sBkgl6XeHpwZiArN5UHeNsmZHGsqga6Z41F-NSgxmZ51Ej0LgXKZjJjjBFjsaPvNbjLhv8E7z82yHvXbu5jsmpsARKy8eilQoZ0jFzh0nYEBK6yyJpCJvx3L09uei0ycK6UA07fIY/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252815%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_T20Pm_JHgiNBkDE3jDM9GHe6YFunf4f3m5lV4j6EoaKZdhrubpJ7jExqkImN8goiN5vsJQPjNiRybsFIzYcvakK2stAMN3nBuccc7jgkRFYhWgFR8rYmanAyK9F_Mwhr6O5NOmoimQ/s1600/fb_SaltersPoint++%252816%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_T20Pm_JHgiNBkDE3jDM9GHe6YFunf4f3m5lV4j6EoaKZdhrubpJ7jExqkImN8goiN5vsJQPjNiRybsFIzYcvakK2stAMN3nBuccc7jgkRFYhWgFR8rYmanAyK9F_Mwhr6O5NOmoimQ/s400/fb_SaltersPoint++%252816%2529.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and up again . . . </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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After that the track continues on, winding along the coast through dense, prickly scrub, up over what seemed an interminable hill and eventually back on to the forestry road where we'd parked our cars. It's about a six and a half hour walk.<br />
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<br />Elizabeth Barshamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00458394232386427313noreply@blogger.com0Salters Point, TAS, Australia-43.174076064290233 147.70156503242185-43.266684064290232 147.54020353242186 -43.081468064290235 147.86292653242185