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Wednesday, 13 September

13:34

Neo and Todman, finding their way home Edgar's Mission Farm SanctuaryEdgar's Mission Farm Sanctuary

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Only hours ago, I was making my way home as the rain poured down and the windscreen wipers struggled to do their job. A trailer-load of abattoir-bound pigs headed the other way, grabbing both my gaze and heartstrings, as the words, And theyre going to get wet rolled from my lips. The thought haunted me for the rest of the drive homethat in their final hours on this earth, those gentle pigs would not even be afforded the kindness of warmth as their lives were soon to be reduced to pork, ham and bacon. But it also reminded me of the serenity prayer: God* grant me the courage to change the things I can change, the serenity to accept the things I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Every day I work on that prayer; in fact, it is what weaves the threadbare fabric of my world together. While it may come as a surprise to some, there are some days when Im holding it together better than on other days, and some days when my world threatens to fall apart. Today is one of the latter. Already struggling under the weight of last nights decision to end the life (and pain) of my beautiful buddy Neo, I arrived home to learn that little Todmans brain had said, No more.

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So, although on the outside it may well look like I am holding it together, over 40 years of animal rescue tells a different story that it never, ever, EVER gets any easier. For in rescue, successful or otherwise, each and every animal leaves both an indelible mark and more often than not a heart-wrenching scarjust where I feel it the most. And today that sent me headfirst into the soft purring fur that is Jessica Cats stomach. As Jessies fur began to get wet, I soon knew it was more than Rubys sympathetic licking (who too had heard my pain), as I sobbed and sobbed, something I so rarely do.

Thinking back on the lives of these two beautiful beings, one of whom I have known for some time and the other not so, I wondered just why those of us who rescue do what we do, for we know...

08:14

Rotunda Park #8 Natural Newstead

Its been some time since Ive wandered across to Rotunda Park one of the best birding spots in the district.

A flock of White-browed Babblers allowed me to enjoy extremely close-up views, while the Common Bronzewings were taking advantage of some scattered seed.

White-browed babbler, Rotunda Park, 10th September 2017

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Tuesday, 12 September

08:54

Kites 4 Eagles 0 Natural Newstead

Late yesterday afternoon I took a stroll at Cairn Curran in search of sea-eagles.

Alas, not an eagle in sight but a party of four Whistling Kites were patrolling the shores on a gathering wind.

Whistling Kite, Cairn Curran @ Welshmans reef, 11th September 2016

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Sunday, 10 September

01:42

Finding the Art in Phuket troublemag

The Warm Prop: Art & Artifice

by Anthony S. Cameron
 

Ive been known to go just about anywhere in search of the sublime amongst the landfill of the day to day. And, funnily enough, I nearly always find it; find that moment that gives me a reason, that makes it all worthwhile. I often find it lurking in the shadows, teetering on the edge, wallowing in the mundane, or rendered unrecognisable by a night of debauchery, Patongs specialty. Sometimes I find it washed up on a beach, bobbing up and down in the turgid Andaman sea, just waiting for a lunatic like me to come across it and let his mind go wild with the found objects hidden potential.

One rarely finds oneself driving INTO Patong at 6 a.m. Rather, if anything, you are putting Patong in the rear view mirror at this ridiculous hour. Even the ladyboys are thin on the ground at this hour, having either secured their last customer, or retired home to get some sleep before having another try tomorrow. Thats the beauty of this place: theres always tomorrow. Another day to put on your face, tuck that annoying male appendage in the crack of your arse, tweak the silicone breast implants, and give it another go.

Driving into Patong at this hour is surreal, and if I was a painter, this is the time I would paint this place. Patong feels a little weary at dawn, a little worn out, a little worse for wear. There is a rawness about the streets that gives you a chill despite the constant hot weather. Patongs make-up is smudged at this hour and running down its face like the black water that runs into Patong bay before the beachgoers are there to see it. The rising sun illuminates stuff that is better left in the dark, but thats the nature of this place: it will show you your best and your worst, and often in the same night. The LED and fading neon lights struggle against the inevitability of the dawn and lose their power to beguile you, leaving a washed out, pastel sheen the sun dismisses like a wandering hand going too far south of the border.

 

 
...

Thursday, 07 September

00:01

Swell Sculpture Festival 2017 troublemag

Currumbin Beach, Gold Coast (QLD), 8 17 September 2017
swellsculpture.com.au
 

(foreground) Clayton Thompson, Safe (background) Joy Heylen, The Crab


 

Manning Daly Art, Tidal Intersection


 

Jacqueline Damon, Intuitions


 

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