tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8345230473639913112024-01-03T02:29:13.385-08:00Peter Kreet ArtPeter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.comBlogger256125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-53258576638005408642020-06-07T22:54:00.000-07:002020-06-07T23:16:55.516-07:00<br />
<br />
Saga of Virus Risk.<br />
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One of the most extraordinary side effects of the current worldwide </div>
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comment about COVID-19 outbreak is the search for some country or race </div>
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to blame, rather than accept that this is all the result of modern travel. I t would seem that every virus has a political shadow.</div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-80727220443956361512018-05-25T03:44:00.001-07:002018-05-29T03:27:50.105-07:00<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">ANZAC Veteran’s Landing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Dressed in their own colours, red, green and blue the ships
cast an enquiring eye towards Alexandra basking in the sun. The scale and
activity beyond our view offered a sense of coming excitement. A march to Cairo
perhaps remained a possibility, but Limnos and Gallipoli intervened and the
fleet sailed steadily north. On arrival the ships hid behind islands, as
anxious eyes viewed rope ladders swinging from iron rails waiting for the given
time. Warships were to tow the boats to their correct destination. Butterflies
danced in empty stomachs as the minutes ticked by.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">All was quiet until a spark from the ship’s funnel like a
conductor baton orchestrated Turkish fire. A shell went straight through the
funnel, but strangely failed to explode. The order was given and one by one with
packs held high we crept ashore. Edging through rowing boats we ran towards the
hill. The landing turned out to be a mile east from the correct position.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Slowly step by step we edged up the hill, a hill so steep
that many troops fell and rolled down again. Half way up we fell upon a Turkish
trench whose occupants immediately put their hands up and were taken back down
to the beach. Heavy fire at hill’s top drowned out all communication;
casualties were high, shrapnel flying in every direction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Moving around a small ridge we eventually came across a small
gully that enabled us to dig ourselves in for the night. As the sun rose our
position came under heavy enemy fire, but somehow we were able to hold off any Turkish
advance. After two days of continuous fire the lack bandages forced us to
evacuate the wounded back down to the beach. Causalities were heavy, having
landed with seventy officers and one thousand men our force was reduced by
seventy percent.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">One morning after I set off to collect water and rations, but
had only travelled thirty yards or so when an explosion behind me blew my
companion who I had been talking to, to pieces. Slowly we were forced back down
the hill and in order to avoid being driven into the sea continually had to dig
new and deeper trenches. Turkish’s bodies piled up along with our own so an
armistice was called to bury the dead. Only tall troops of at least six foot
went out to bury their companions, after taking their wallets for identification
they laid their sleeping mates in shallow graves.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Many men broke down among the mixed shrapnel of needle
pellets and spasmodic fire and we would have to carry them back down to beach.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Winter was a problem; only sea water remained as we munched
on stale weaveled biscuits and dreamed of home. Then there were flies in their
millions, bluey-green in colour that came to claim the dead bodies. There were
body lice and competitions were held to see who could remove the most from the
seams of our grey flannel shirts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sickness was worse than casualties, but Elgar played on.
Mistreatment was considered very wrong by both sides, Turks respected
Australian soldiers there was no hatred from anyone. We would exchange bully
beef for cigarettes much to our officers’ dislike.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Lone Pine was the fiercest battle you would ever see in your
life. A lone pine stood guard over the hill. We were ordered to attack at
5.30am. Next morning the Turks counter attracted, we never saw much of the British;
they just stood there and would not dig a deeper trench without orders from
above. Over five days 2000 Australian troops were lost, while the Turks
suffered 5000 dead .<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">December saw heavy snow; many of the men had not seen snow
before so this was a treat. Lord Kitchener arrived to OK the withdrawal. All
discussion was kept top secret, the men were in poor condition and were not
told about the evacuation until the last moment. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Three weeks later the withdrawal started. We had received
Christmas cake that was greatly enjoyed by all on the beach. The silence lasted
two to three days, no shots were fired. These silence days were held every few
days, two days, then three days, one day and so on to confuse the Turks. When
the night came no one was allowed to talk, parties were taken down to the
beach, socks worn over their boots. It was thought the casualties would be
higher than the landing, no one had any experience in such an evacuation. Rifle
fire continued with a water device so the Turks assumed we were still in
trenches. From Anzac cove a pier was built from a barge covered with onion bags
to deafen any noise as the blue water darken with rain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Over 1000 killed every month, it took twenty four hours to
become a veteran. It was an example of how a nation was able to look after
itself. A glorious failure, we did what we needed to do, to support Britain.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">These recollection were recorded by Australian veterans who were there.</span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-19592882720560704882018-03-08T02:45:00.002-08:002018-03-08T02:45:10.630-08:00William Russell. War Correspondent
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">William
Russell, war correspondent.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">William Russell almost single-handed invented the art of the
war correspondent. Born in Dublin in1820 Russell inherited the charm and way
with words for which the Irish are renown. The emergence of mass public opinion
during 19<sup>th</sup> cent Britain presented him with a readership for the
major political events of his age. For the first time public opinion mattered
and the British middle classes had a spokesman they could trust.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Writing for the Times, Russell covered such diverse subjects
as the Crimean War, Indian Mutiny in 1857, the American Civil War, Franco
Prussian War to the experience of travelling by train into the Wild West in
1881. His description of embarkation in Chicago displays his ability to engage
readers reveal his writing strength places the reader into the story.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He writes, ‘the special train scrambled into the Chicago
terminus… at some unpleasantly early hour. We wandered on through the crowds of
early workman and people going to their various places of business in straight
lines, and saw street life in the morning – coffee – stands, crowds round the
barbers’ door and saloons, and coloured men and women – a large element –
shuffling to and fro along to the scene of their labour.’ Russell’s ability to
transfer such exact observations of participants while presenting two sides of
a story are his trademark. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His dispatches on the Zulu War are honest and exact.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sept. 28 Zulu War. About the Battle of Isandlwana he writes,…’I
am bound to say… established beyond doubt that the Zulus had no intention of
making an attack on that occasion, because it was the day of the new moon, on
which they never transact any important business.’ However they were ‘fired
upon by the volunteers and mounted police.’ Later when talking to Methlegazulu
a Zulu Chief,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>showed indifference to his
fate remarked, ‘How,’ he said, ‘can I be worse off than I am? You have taken
away my cattle, my wives have deserted me, and I cannot get any more; if you
hang me I could hardly be worse off! ‘<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Russell mentions that Natal settlers had praised ‘heroic
methods of the Anglo-Saxon doctors who have “polished off” the patients in
Tasmania, Australia,’ suggesting a possible solution to the Zulu problem in
Natal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some of Russell’s most descriptive observation concerned the
Crimean War. His covering of the campaign was such that it was widely read by
the British<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cabinet as well as the
general public. His relentless descriptions of misery and military incompetence
made their mark. The lack of proper food, water filtration and even basic
sanitary discipline, the lack of suitable clothing provided the detailed for
fluent, angry, brilliant despatches. For the first time a reporter was telling
the public the tale of their fighting men at war.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The British Army was not impressed, they refused
him a mount, or rations, or any quarters to sleep or any recognition of his
status. Russell’s despatches however for the first time brought home to the War
Office that the public had a right to say something about the conduct of wars
in their name. His dispatches forced the Government to improve their
responsibilities towards their troops. These seething articles were directly
responsible for Florence Nightingale going to the Crimea. Russell’s achievement
speak for themselves and have never been equalled since</span>Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-15920252297823792372017-12-03T02:16:00.000-08:002017-12-03T02:16:54.552-08:00Amedeo Modigliani<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/AVvXsEjIQHga6jz8-qucRvP6CRhc9UgAp_p12Zuzb9HgYGeNLXu1YA8j-2lBg7SjoY0tDeH45w4YgCSnl0KRn1u4v_TZVrjNl6Mnt6ZT9uKIT5xWYTgKFKgGb-kXLU4I6LDZyZZg62AdD45bxdQ4/s1600/img110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1011" data-original-width="1600" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIQHga6jz8-qucRvP6CRhc9UgAp_p12Zuzb9HgYGeNLXu1YA8j-2lBg7SjoY0tDeH45w4YgCSnl0KRn1u4v_TZVrjNl6Mnt6ZT9uKIT5xWYTgKFKgGb-kXLU4I6LDZyZZg62AdD45bxdQ4/s320/img110.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reclining Nude with Necklace</td></tr>
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One of the more romantic artists of the School of Paris although it should be known as the School of Montmartre and Montparnasse was Amedeo Modigliani. A group of artists intent on searching for an alternative direction to Cubism and Abstraction that were occupying central stage in Paris' artistic direction at the time.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Their life style promoted the idea of an artistic Bohemia on both the right and left banks of the Seine. Modigliani although of modest means presented himself according to Ossip Zadkine as ' a young god masquerading as a workman in his Sunday best'. Charming and generous without fault, but intent on self destruction. A fine draftsman but his lack of money forced him to spend hours sitting in bars and cafes creating portraits in exchange for drinks or a meal. </div>
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</div>
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Like many artists at the time Modigliani was greatly influenced by African sculpture, features he incorporated into his sculptures and painting. Poverty forced him to abandon sculpture in favour of painting as it was always difficulty to move heavy pieces of marble in the middle of the night in order to avoid paying rent.</div>
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</div>
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Since my youth I have always admired his work, due no doubt to my art studies at Julian Ashton Art School in Sydney were an academic approach to art education was the order of the day. Modigliani's paintings revolve around the human face and female figure were he freely used African artistic features His search for new ways to portray reality within a traditional format offered both a dramatic and engaging new language to the viewer. As a painter he seems to have discarded much of the subject matter of many artists. There are no landscapes, still-life and little supporting structural interiors.<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/AVvXsEhiTgAfhoKMmLPC34g__fMPBqXWOPcVsSCKEF3q-Fyu3wbilaLT-Y2U0xVSq2_yTrOMlarNjAaNV68Y5pyfHRvbzo4QsFqDXyA-GD3h8uOQ23Y4Kf0SlhQrtZRAHRn2x4t9pkqVP3j4lPD-/s1600/img108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="907" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTgAfhoKMmLPC34g__fMPBqXWOPcVsSCKEF3q-Fyu3wbilaLT-Y2U0xVSq2_yTrOMlarNjAaNV68Y5pyfHRvbzo4QsFqDXyA-GD3h8uOQ23Y4Kf0SlhQrtZRAHRn2x4t9pkqVP3j4lPD-/s320/img108.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antonio</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/AVvXsEiY4dqbHDPv-CKOp7vSNkd4i-QthB6WBxl0As1Xa6wQKsDbJcC9XED5jaafOiMOzSLxFJqFoeNTGFP2h1F3KGpFlbTQK35MkOKUiZJCKcKQtXXjvFwQX1OsiSUnlbw7HFpoJ_6PVtFqN805/s1600/img109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1196" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4dqbHDPv-CKOp7vSNkd4i-QthB6WBxl0As1Xa6wQKsDbJcC9XED5jaafOiMOzSLxFJqFoeNTGFP2h1F3KGpFlbTQK35MkOKUiZJCKcKQtXXjvFwQX1OsiSUnlbw7HFpoJ_6PVtFqN805/s320/img109.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Madam Pompadour</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/AVvXsEi2nsFkKI6ITSFEXqeAmrLZjv0_ehrhdNXh5YxsxFR1sDC7_DFzyaql1yrumQS3yvtKEjm1RxKMb3-joyJOfpYQiD2IjMJeGjnNxV4sKSqwyssjbAPsah7fjwYlb2KCW8GyOs5iaPV2o8Ic/s1600/img111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1281" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nsFkKI6ITSFEXqeAmrLZjv0_ehrhdNXh5YxsxFR1sDC7_DFzyaql1yrumQS3yvtKEjm1RxKMb3-joyJOfpYQiD2IjMJeGjnNxV4sKSqwyssjbAPsah7fjwYlb2KCW8GyOs5iaPV2o8Ic/s320/img111.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunia Czechoxska</td></tr>
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Paintings such as "Antonio" and Madam Pompadour illustrate his desire to incorporate cubist observation of Cezanne as well as expressionistic treatment within a realistic tradition. Both portraits and figure paintings exemplify an almost formulaic treatment of heads and necks that disregard realistic proportions. Not the drawing of noses, eyes and mouths. The elongated necks and simplified almost abstracted backgrounds. There is little attempt to place sitters in any realistic setting. Whether Modigliani if he had lived longer would have arrived at abstraction is debateable.<br />
<br />
This approach is carried over into his figure paintings such as "Reclining Nude and "Lunia Czechowska". No use of tone rather space has been created by the juxtaposition of shapes and colour. While his paintings appear realistic they are distortions that border on the expressionistic nudes of Otto Mueller.<br />
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Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-54181485799538539332017-11-16T02:33:00.003-08:002017-11-16T02:37:11.495-08:00Visit to Lone Pine. ANZAC COVEHillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
Contemplate the fallen,<br />
resting body spent<br />
night sky drifts across<br />
the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
Cast a gaze at tottering stones<br />
darkened by natures' stains.<br />
<br />
Mother, the night sky dances<br />
on the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
To bruise death's markers<br />
at sleep's yawning birth.<br />
<br />
While the lone pine stands<br />
on the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
On lookers stare<br />
with clouded eyes upon the fallen.<br />
<br />
Is it a mirage? Is it a mirage?<br />
On the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
To perish under a blazing sun<br />
beneath a carpet of golden flowers.<br />
Mother, the mirage is dancing<br />
on the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
Yes, children the storming wind<br />
turns the sloping hillside white. <br />
It is the mirage! It is the mirage!<br />
On the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
Like an enraged bull.<br />
It is the mirage! It is the mirage!<br />
On the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
Yes, the mirage, the mirage<br />
Crown's our grief<br />
as it dances, dance through<br />
the sloping hillside of the Dead.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-37139575545167644012017-11-13T01:52:00.001-08:002017-11-13T01:54:38.957-08:00Australian Heart Foundation
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Australian
Heart Foundation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Living in <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>latitude
43degrees south, you become used to the piecing winds that inhabit this part of
the world. Winds that wander around the world due no doubt to the lack of any
major landmass to impede their journey. Other than South America it is plain
sailing. A fact much appreciated in the age of sail when sailing vessels
followed the forties latitude. It is little wonder that this region became
known as the roaring forties. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Local walking groups, sponsored the Australian Heart
Foundation in Southern Tasmania have in recent years been encouraging people to
undertake regular daily exercise in an attempt to enable everyone to seriously
take their physical and dietary responsibility to healthy living seriously. The
never ending march of inactivity in the modern world needs to be countered. The
Kettering Walkers as our local group is called is one such group, ex-heart attack victims among others
who confront the roaring forties on their twice weekly walk. Not that the wind
presents a daily problem, but on occasions the members have learnt to put their
heads down and plod into the occasional wall of hail and rain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Some found their way into the group from the Royal Hobart
Hospital heart rehab programme, where valiant nursing staff attempt to correct
a life time of bad habits. Others join simply for the disciplined walking
programme that takes them to more distant corners of our island. New comers to
the district also have the opportunity to make new friends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My own introduction occurred after a minor heart attack on a
steep local mountain caused by a blocked artery. This required the insert of a
u shaped hoop to hopefully hold it open. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would highly recommend that anyone wishing to join such a
group do so, after all we only live once.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-20504598782243731552017-09-07T17:04:00.001-07:002017-09-07T17:04:11.372-07:00Routine and Ritual and a better World.<br />
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We have all been exposed to various forms routine or ritual at some point in our lives, and I have often wondered whether such forced discipline hinders creative thinking. At a personal level the outcome only really effects ourselves and our relationship to the world. But authorities of every hue love discipline whether they be Governments, Religions or Employers. After all it is the bedfellow of control. Conservatives would claim that this is the only way to run the world. But recent political actions around the suggest otherwise. We seem to be living in an age of extreme individualism.</div>
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Of course there are circumstances when such a ritual or routine are desirable, even advantageous. Waiting to catch a bus or to be served in a shop are generally actions that run far more smoothly if some sort of agreed procedure is applied, not to mention the necessity for rules in driving your car. Likewise learning to dance or eating with chopsticks could not satisfactory be undertaken without a predetermined teaching structure.</div>
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In today's world however it often seems everyone may claim the right to interpret their actions souly in terms of self. They claim that defined action and response to new ideas and actions by the application rules are undemocratic, anti-free will. Catholicism relies heavily on ritual and discipline, theatrical repetition of religious service is justified on the grounds that all worshipers are able to understand and engage in religious service no matter where they live. A structure that has stood the test of generations, claiming to have a calming effect on participants.<br />
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In contrast thinking independently, exercising free will are activities frowned upon in most controlled societies, the control of daily task and thought are considered essential if anarchy is not to prevail. <br />
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In recent years Western societies have moved increasingly towards individualism, life styles that do not necessarily produce the best outcomes for its citizens. Should the desire for complete freedom of action in all aspects of life remain central to harmonious living? I am not suggesting we need a dictatorial form of government, but rather more self-control over our desires and actions, but a better understanding of the resulting consequences. Fundamentalists are trying to impose their will, while libertines are advocating the opposite. I have no idea where the correct balance lies, but excessive ritual and routine or freedom of action both seem detrimental to a peaceful world. .But the continual focus of minority groups on their personal problems and determination to impose them on everyone will not necessarily create a better world. </div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-50308683094446290692017-08-24T00:13:00.000-07:002017-08-24T00:13:09.588-07:00The Long Road Home.<br />
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Home is where your heart may be found. A village, some distant valley or enchanting location, this is where past memories abound and as the distance lengthens from then to now soul searching often tarnishes such memories.</div>
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Memories of past events take on their own aurora, both good and bad. To examine the past in this way has many positive benefits, no longer are your personal interpretations distorted by outside influences. Such a journey down this road from childhood offers all sorts of possibilities, new interpretations, why such and such happened or didn't. How successfully do you view your life from then to now.</div>
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Travelling down this road is not unlike travelling down a long dark tunnel, never knowing what lies around the next corner. The revival of experiences now seen in hindsight and with a clarity of experience accumulated over the years can be refreshing.</div>
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Home always has that heart warming love of childhood. Yearly birthdays and the joy and excitement of Christmas with its innocence of true belief. This can never be recreated and for many remains the happiest years of their life.</div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-66972654305973792672017-07-16T04:33:00.000-07:002017-07-16T04:33:09.698-07:00Memory.Memory can have many masters:<br />
As the world moves with ever increasing speed towards a possible abbess, it is time to sharpen our memories of not too distance past. Current political events aboard to day offer little hope that it is possible to restore reason and a sense of duty in today's world leaders. How can hope exist when the past is so easily forgotten. Hope for a better future requires known or aspired goals. Past memory has such magical powers when recalled, it sits motionless, silent waiting for recall from a disinterested present. Memory is history without which there is nothing, simply a void, a world without any true purpose.<br />
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To what extent does memory play in current events? Is it simply a collection of past experiences without any relevance to the present or a reminder of possible outcomes. Unfortunately its value depends on how long personal memory spans. This varies from individual to individual, from country to country, the shorter the span the less useful. There are events in all lives that are fixed in the past because they are markers of important experience in our lives.<br />
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The greatest value memory should play in life, if it is not to continually repeat itself with similar satisfactions, disasters, would be greater examination of the detail as to how decisions were made at the time. The reasons whether personal, political and social are the key. It seems little thought is being excised by our leaders in decision making. True universal aspirations are required.Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-30421668298012210872017-06-23T04:47:00.000-07:002017-06-23T04:47:52.589-07:00The Great WallEvery visitor to the Middle Kingdom visits the Great Wall and it seemed appropriate that after a morning offering sacrifices to the Gods at the Temple of Heaven that a visit to the Great Wall would be timely. Firstly a word about the temple complex, it is one of the best examples of Ming Dynasty architecture in Beijing covering several acres. Temples to past Chinese Emperors with their ornate decorative interiors were visitors may leave offerings abound. Still a active monastery the monks sell ink paintings to raise funds for the upkeep. At one point we were ushered into a large studio with a large selection of images of historic deities. The monks and other devotees paint here. The standard of the art work was of a very high standard depicting Chinese landscapes, along with the Gods and more modern images.<br />
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Then we drove about a half hour or so to the Great Wall that naturally has been developed into a major tourists destination. The wall itself was a surprise, clinging as it does to the edge of ravines and across steep gullies. The wall runs up hills and across the mountain tops. From our car park it ran in two directions, one a fairly modest clime while the other more or less ran straight up the mountain ,naturally the direction I took. Built of bricks and stone, each step a different height that makes the clime very taxing. Every fifty metres or so there is a fort [very breezy with no enclosed windows] were the troops lived and slept while on duty. I was told that soldiers lived here for months or even years on end.<br />
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As I'm only one month away from my 80th birthday I decided to see how fit I was and qualify for the title of <span style="background-color: yellow;">Chinese </span>Hero for climbing the wall. After an hour of climbing I reached Fort 12 that required a lot of pulling myself up by the handrail with frequent stops. Still I'm pleased to say I succeed and felt that the evening massage was a just reward.Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-90423529290114791692017-06-19T00:21:00.000-07:002017-06-19T03:37:09.522-07:00Haircut by any other name..Arriving in Suzhen on a hot June day I decided to try to find a barber for a haircut. On receiving instructions from the hotel porter I turned off right instead of left as instructed, but could see no barber in sight. Not being sure how Barbers advertised themselves in China I undertook several enactments of a person receiving a haircut. Eventually after a few false starts I arrived at what looked like a cross between a lady's hairdresser and a barber. After being waved inside I was firmly conducted towards a barber's chair were I was presented with a sheet of Chinese writing. The gentleman standing over me seemed to indicate that I should point at whatever performance took my fancy. Not having my glasses didn't help and the page appeared as a big blur. He naturally spoke no English and my Chinese to say the least was non-existent, so anything was possible.<br />
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After several minutes I trust a finger at what appeared to be an attractive character. He immediately attacked me with mechanical clippers removing most of one side of my beard along with what little hair I had, just one or two remained on my head. By now I was rather anxious about the likely outcome, but as the barber's chair had been laid right back there appeared to be little I could do. Then the cut throat razor came out as face, eye brows and the top of head were examined for any likely hair in need of removal. While this was going on another assistant started to rub some sort of lotion into the top of my head. This in turn was followed by a conditioner and heaven's know what else. Then came the shampoo, not that the last time I looked there was a lot of hair to wash, certainly after the clippers had done their duty.<br />
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So there I was , razor man on one side and another with a hose washing down the shampoo on the other. Then the messages started. Firstly, ears and eyes, followed by head, nose and cheeks. The massage continued down my back, across my shoulders, arms and a final hard pull on each finger. After the final workout my head was dosed in hair cream, the reason for which still escapes me as I'm pretty bald, then the job was finally finished. I suggested that the bill when it arrived must be a mistake, after all I only wanted a haircut. But no $72 was the correct amount. Long negotiations then took place. I would write one amount on a piece of paper, the barber another. This continued for some time and I was at loss as to know what to do At last I comprised and paid him $50 that was still the most expensive hair cut in my life. Such are haircuts in China.Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-16179681286044947782016-12-05T03:05:00.003-08:002016-12-13T02:48:30.522-08:00Steam ferry Laura.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFriGtzuCzjseLgK_cf9tkPJ66sc4ONVq6ZKoO7zYcQsr-fUwhHXZPnPHfj9twtA7LWwUGHrhf90GwIyhb3SdWN6vLluhyphenhyphenXJ6hAZDuIMdF6X2JAtaoaxNTIYrIu6mbicl85k4L_mFzgpG/s1600/Last+of+Laura.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFriGtzuCzjseLgK_cf9tkPJ66sc4ONVq6ZKoO7zYcQsr-fUwhHXZPnPHfj9twtA7LWwUGHrhf90GwIyhb3SdWN6vLluhyphenhyphenXJ6hAZDuIMdF6X2JAtaoaxNTIYrIu6mbicl85k4L_mFzgpG/s320/Last+of+Laura.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Over the years I have been fascinated by the pictorial elements of old walls, ship wrecks and industrial machinery and their influence on my abstract paintings. The island of Tasmania fortunately has an abundance of wrecks, no doubt due to its location on the roaring 40s that helped the early explorers circle the world with the wind at their backs.<br />
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This latest exhibition has been inspired by an riveted iron steam ferry that ran aground in the D'Entrecasteaux Channel in the 1920s. These ferries were used to ship timber, milk and apples from the Channel ports up to Hobart before the establishment of road access. SS Laura being the inspiration of this series of painting has provided me with a great array of abstractions developed from drawings often made by climbing inside the vessel at low tide.<br />
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The following pictures illustrate a few of works.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmSaKxBQnmK2RYqeNsMCpQ2058Ldqf90nsRz34GpFuTxOxfm5sUeOdBp8zCrATDc-QollCKODv5f96PjZZH-mtlWW-PgSBBY6UA2tP712Z5owY-l95n7jTQLQIpchbZHnF4XT12aU32D0/s1600/Riveted+Hull.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmSaKxBQnmK2RYqeNsMCpQ2058Ldqf90nsRz34GpFuTxOxfm5sUeOdBp8zCrATDc-QollCKODv5f96PjZZH-mtlWW-PgSBBY6UA2tP712Z5owY-l95n7jTQLQIpchbZHnF4XT12aU32D0/s320/Riveted+Hull.JPG" width="234" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZG6YFZjuHcPzIOyW4fuekoR3EOD7PYLfm9cmTvFA5Nj7UOhSH6lUNeycy6zoVotm8CLINYiedA1-2a_LpZWIPLCy9gzy9jbXK897XunoSoA1JjFR0Bgk6hN8pHjk5Istvu056b9y80nZ/s1600/Crown+of+Thorns.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZG6YFZjuHcPzIOyW4fuekoR3EOD7PYLfm9cmTvFA5Nj7UOhSH6lUNeycy6zoVotm8CLINYiedA1-2a_LpZWIPLCy9gzy9jbXK897XunoSoA1JjFR0Bgk6hN8pHjk5Istvu056b9y80nZ/s320/Crown+of+Thorns.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not sure when the Lorea was built, but a steam ship of the same name was built in Glasgow in 1878 for Howard Smith a Victorian shipping company. They eventually sold it in 1920 to Electrolytic Co in Hobart. This vessel founded in Storm Bay at the entrance to the River Derwent. Like so many wrecks there is little detailed information available.<br />
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Update the history of the Laura I have been working on was an iron steamer of 63 tons, built in Brisbane in 1873, so it is a little older than the above Laura. She ran aground in 1929.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPEcn9ujMxlCaVf-LdDpLyV1u-tg7e4ahacjkTeXVXYCo90MY-BFIDTR5DcaeaVAeOS62V749cA0ppG1QrwbvOdAvNdDj1SpaYvr3tzgDCDH0JYFuDPuOPlOSSZLvdBAoazmyvtVfDUcI/s1600/Laura+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPEcn9ujMxlCaVf-LdDpLyV1u-tg7e4ahacjkTeXVXYCo90MY-BFIDTR5DcaeaVAeOS62V749cA0ppG1QrwbvOdAvNdDj1SpaYvr3tzgDCDH0JYFuDPuOPlOSSZLvdBAoazmyvtVfDUcI/s320/Laura+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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SS. Laura as seen today.</div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-31618529878624359442016-09-03T19:21:00.000-07:002016-09-03T19:21:37.312-07:00Tognetti and Vanska play Bach.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwhdqs7lgH6aRsGKu0odAQAzJP1y4qauwfwEd12WyhxRmEWuAFMRh_zBA4VYD4Ik8fA_Y3sPZI6dG_EENSTEqjvWnXITN_Ind8rjyLgPXR07Z_HaJeYKaZsliM9UMrPHvCshbm9kc6dNI/s1600/img014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwhdqs7lgH6aRsGKu0odAQAzJP1y4qauwfwEd12WyhxRmEWuAFMRh_zBA4VYD4Ik8fA_Y3sPZI6dG_EENSTEqjvWnXITN_Ind8rjyLgPXR07Z_HaJeYKaZsliM9UMrPHvCshbm9kc6dNI/s320/img014.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tognetti and
Vanska<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>play Bach.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What a delight to experience two very fine violinists
entertaining a rapt audience with a selection Bach’s concertos that always move
the heart strings. I had not attended a Tognetti concert for many years and it
was wonderful that he has not lost any of the youthful enthusiasm and
excitement he manages to pack into his performances. His dancing figures
exploring the violin strings as he plays. Today all these years later it is
hard to understand why the Australian Chamber Orchestra could not, not entice
the two hundred subscribers required for them to continue their Tasmanian
visits, much to Tasmania shame.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tonight he is accompanied with another gifted violin play,
Finnish Satu Vanska who together explore Bach’s conversations with a select
group of string instrument’s musicians from the TSO. What a privilege to hear
them play on Richard’s 1743 Guareri violin and Satu’s Stradivarius. Both sets
dancing fingers moving with such ease up and down the key board, along with the
TSO string players held the audience in raptures. Bach at any time is a
memorable musical experience and along with the big surprise of the evening
Peteris Vasks’ Vox amoris created a night to remember.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Vasks’ fantasy for violin and strings proved to be a show
stopper. Composed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>by Latvian composer
Peteris Vasks, Vox amoris is a very emotional work. Vasks <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>not a household name in the West and it is
only since the collapse of the Soviet Union that he has made an impact
worldwide. His music reaches beyond simple tone-painting and reaches into the
relationship between humanity and nature. Vox was written especially Richard
Tognetti and his playing did not disappoint. It is about the greatest power on
earth – love and there is no better interpretation about a love story than
violin and strings orchestra. The wave of emotional music moves softly and
slowly as love itself becomes stronger. If you are still to hear this piece it
is highly recommended.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
always impossible to convert musical language into speech, you need to listen
to the string instruments in conversation with each other, especially when
controlled by two extraordinary violists. I hope this work will eventually
reach the wide audience it deserves, as Peteris Vasks remarks,’ make the world
a brighter place, more open to love.</span>Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-87653546087824545992016-05-08T00:07:00.002-07:002016-05-08T00:07:45.222-07:00Leicestor City.<br />
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Leicester, what more can you say, from Battlers to Kings of England. Like many followers of English Premier League around the world the unbelievable has become fact. Who could have believed the impossible was possible? Player considered by more prestige clubs considered expendable forged together into a united troop to take on all comers and win. While retired Socceroo Mark Schwarzer played a small part in playing six matches last seasons to keep Leicester in the fight from relegation.</div>
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Then there was the midfield, who valiantly in defence kept Leicester in the game along with Claudio Renieri's fairytale belief in the Foxes that anything is possible. At the beginning of the season many eyes were on Bournemouth's attempt to mix it with the big boys, while Leicester City was relegated to 5000 to one. Such a triumph must inspired many in this competitive world of ours to greater belief in self. If Leicester can do it so can we. There are so few example of the extraordinary becoming believable that the Foxes achievement will live for ages. </div>
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Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-1430538740917103962016-04-24T18:22:00.001-07:002016-04-24T18:22:23.263-07:00Something triggered by memory.
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Something triggered by memory.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Memory is a strange thing, often you are sure of your facts,
only to discover that your recollections have been subjected to Chinese
whispers or another member of the your party recalls an entirely different
version of events. Most people living in Australia would think the eating of a
banana to be a very ordinary event, most likely they were spoon fed their first
banana as a baby in arms. Thinking back over breakfast with my sliced fruit
sitting on top of the breakfast cereal, I recalled my first encounter with this
tropical delicacy. That first encounter still fills me with wonder, this is
natural enough, and Britain was hardly overrun with bananas during the war.
Such exotic fruit that reach her shores had to run German blockades of U-boats
all the way from the West Indies before they appeared anywhere near our
village. The sheer fact that such fruits were grown far away on some tropic
island far away from the daily bombing and food shortages in itself put bananas
into the dream class.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Our big event occurred when my mother returned
home one morning and presented my sister and myself with a banana she had just purchased
at a Red Cross Auction for the princely sum of one guinea, an amount equivalent
to a weekly wage. As children we had no idea how such a delicacy was eaten.
After much debate our treasure was duly divided into two equal half’s and after
instruction as to how to peel it we proceeded to suck this strange fruit very
slowly so as to prolong the flavour for a long as possible. If my memory
services me correctly we held our banana very gently so as not to squash it, the
consumption or rather licking of that banana took the best part of an hour. I’m
not sure whether we set any sort of time record, but it would several years </span>Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-8966329210548194272016-01-15T03:13:00.005-08:002016-04-23T18:52:22.923-07:00Montsalvat and Justus Jorgensen contribution to Australian culture.<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/AVvXsEjBtXkxy38SFvKYBF6UMob2HcEE0SfcCDttN7SfXG4gYWD0FAkutp2fXWryMicl6GNEERW_7Da0lDW2rQBb6D4oNDqtHzdQ0omd9nKzxGv2RSgwi4CIetJg2u9J1n5e338sEO6TmkzawdMl/s1600/img003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtXkxy38SFvKYBF6UMob2HcEE0SfcCDttN7SfXG4gYWD0FAkutp2fXWryMicl6GNEERW_7Da0lDW2rQBb6D4oNDqtHzdQ0omd9nKzxGv2RSgwi4CIetJg2u9J1n5e338sEO6TmkzawdMl/s320/img003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sketch of Montsalvat by Justus Jorgensen.</td></tr>
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The end of the Second World War saw the influx of many European artists who had been displaced with the redrawing of Europe's map and the emergence of an enlarged Communist block in a Eastern Europe. Many of these artist joined their fellows who had fled to Australia during the events in Germany and elsewhere in Continental Europe during the 1930s, and later helped to create Montsalvat we know today . Justus Jorgensen, a first generation Australian had in 1938 started on his life's work of establishing this artists collective at Eltham just outside of Melbourne.</div>
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I first became aware of Monsalvat in the 1950s talking to many of these New Australians emigrant artists as they often meet in Loronenzi Wine Bar a coffee shop in Sydney that many artists used on a regular bases. Often they had just returned from Melbourne after spending a week or so helping build this great project, Jorgensen wonderful contribution to Australia's cultural life. At the time the country was hell-bent on the demolition of vast numbers of the country's early Georgian and Victorian buildings. Many fine sandstone buildings were destroyed and used as fill. Fortunately a number of the doorways and various other sculpture reliefs were rescued and given a second life in the building of Montsalvat. Jorgensen a trained architect attempted to revive both provincial and major buildings in his reconstruction project, to some extent he represented Australia's version of the Art and Craft movement of the late 19th cent. This recycling resulted in The Great Hall, Long Gallery and church along with a number of mud brick French Provincial cottages. The philosophy behind Monsalvat was to create an artists collective were artists, writers, musicians and craft people could exchange ideas and work in a peaceful environment. </div>
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Jorgensen himself a professional painter, there are some 3000 works stored at Eltham has strangely been ignored by most of Australia's art writers and critics over the years. An early convert to atonalism while studying under Max Meldrum Jorgensen was always a very traditional artist, his work has a simplicity and direct appeal. A regular exhibiter to the Archibald Portrait Prize were his work displays a more academic approach. The reason for his almost total exclusion from Australia's art history is hard to explain. He did not exhibit widely, but then many painters don't, so there must be a more convincing argument. Whether his work displays a lack of conviction for any particular approach has any validity is another criticism. </div>
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What ever ones opinion about his artistic merits, Jorgensen's contribution to Australia's cultural life remains inspiring, Perhaps one day his gift will be fully appreciated. </div>
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Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-21672869165968848512015-12-03T19:47:00.002-08:002015-12-03T19:50:11.452-08:00Stresa, Lake Maggiore.& Modern Italian Painting.<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/AVvXsEjHKDDrU2MlpTsRC9WF3lSv1X4LM55x57JXLhW-ilBjLvL6sWb4fZV9p6tVkkqeze43JxYZOnCJgenqABmtMql2zpZEJJLR3sk8XcIo0M2fO1kCRXVecKm2bFJtX01DivUOhSeLMvFnIotb/s1600/Giorgio+De+Chirico..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKDDrU2MlpTsRC9WF3lSv1X4LM55x57JXLhW-ilBjLvL6sWb4fZV9p6tVkkqeze43JxYZOnCJgenqABmtMql2zpZEJJLR3sk8XcIo0M2fO1kCRXVecKm2bFJtX01DivUOhSeLMvFnIotb/s320/Giorgio+De+Chirico..jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giorgio De Chirico.<br />
Antigone, 1926</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Stresa,
Italian Alps & Modern Italian Painting. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">One of the great surprises of our stay in Stresa on the shore
of lake Maggiore in the Italian Alp was the discovery of a very fine art
gallery. Not only did it stock the usual sweet Italian painting and a fine
selection of art glass and silver, but some paintings by modern Italian
masters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">A fine example of Giorgio De Chirico’s painting titled
‘Antigone’ 1926, from<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chirico better
periods the 1920s. As many of you know de Chirico is best associated with
Surrealism, but he was the originator of an art movement </span><span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-AU; mso-no-proof: yes;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img height="21" src="file:///C:/Users/Owner/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image002.jpg" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_1" width="21" /><!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">called Metaphysical Painting, a style of imagery were random
object are arranged in a composition stripped of their true meaning. This
approach to art of course was adopted by the Surrealist movement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Another surprise in this lakeside gallery was a work by
Giacomo Bella, one of the leading exponent of Italian Futurism. A movement
interested in depicting aspects of modern industrialized life. That Futurism,
Italy’s contribution to modern art is still freely available was surprising.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Stresa as an alpine tourist town on the shores of Lake
Maggiore is quite delightful to both the eye and pocket. There are several
grand hotels around the lake shore, but plenty of good budget hotels and
backpackers, many with views across the lake. Taken back by first impressions
we decided to stay a few days to explore some of the small villages and towns
scatted around the lake’s edge. One discovery was the Botanic Garden of Villa
Taranto established by Captain Neil McEacharn in the 1930s. He was a Scottish
nobleman of considerable wealth and over the years collected over 20,000 trees
and shrubs from all over the world. Now over ninety years old the gardens offer
wonderful examples of unusual and exotic trees and shrubs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Another worthwhile outing is the bus trip up to the top of
the mountain raising behind the town to visit the Alpine Garden, a community
project were they collect various alpine trees and plants from around the
world. There are also visits to the islands such as Isola Bell and its castle or
palace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">The town itself is very picturesque, full of earth coloured
building of a few stories height each in perfect harmony with its neighbour and
there is plenty to do boating, swimming if you like cold water and just sitting
admiring the view.</span></span></div>
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Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-69594129871678111582015-11-11T20:22:00.000-08:002015-11-11T21:01:51.647-08:00Lyon gastronomic capital of France.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSXXG3LQnzwZXFEjxXx8bfeMDPgToIIGAdlniOelxjiyBWI_XSWfkhMFfv0Al-0hBAE2zcxfg7x5hwP2BReJuxyVCCm2x0_tdHB_waqJzv5Cz68NDx-dgRq04qFh5WLzck2DB2IteEKJE/s1600/View+from+Pont+La+Feuillee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHSXXG3LQnzwZXFEjxXx8bfeMDPgToIIGAdlniOelxjiyBWI_XSWfkhMFfv0Al-0hBAE2zcxfg7x5hwP2BReJuxyVCCm2x0_tdHB_waqJzv5Cz68NDx-dgRq04qFh5WLzck2DB2IteEKJE/s320/View+from+Pont+La+Feuillee.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyon roofline from pont La Feuillee. drawing Peter Kreet</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Lyon. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">To return to your past may often prove to be a daunting
experience and revisiting Lyon after fifty-five years was no exception. The
city first visited in my youth however did not disappoint, although our arrival
to take up an apartment tenancy proved to be disappointing. Our landlord simply
failed to show up and honour his agreement. But I do not wish to dwell on
negatives for Lyon over the years has developed from strength to strength. It
is easy to understand why the city in recent has enticing visitors in great
numbers. Its delightful building painted in a variety of pastel and earthy
tones throw out a welcome greeting. Lyon standing as it does between two wide
rivers, the Saone and the Rhone has a spacious feel and does not force itself
upon the visitor unlike some European cities. It is possible to walk around its
wide squares, parks or down wide streets to feel the space the city offers.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCz6qm1qSNFHjtX7BEpGprCrhjed3y2P1kriOR4lR3XhiyNbiY9jkEd3YXOyYVPLouirvupileIZyQcTCmm_dMLgwFNAadz3I9GG5a-cn49OJA-Jiuuf8hHNiX8l7B6PhuO5wawAAWNp-/s1600/DSCN5245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCz6qm1qSNFHjtX7BEpGprCrhjed3y2P1kriOR4lR3XhiyNbiY9jkEd3YXOyYVPLouirvupileIZyQcTCmm_dMLgwFNAadz3I9GG5a-cn49OJA-Jiuuf8hHNiX8l7B6PhuO5wawAAWNp-/s320/DSCN5245.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Fourviere.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">For our eight day stay I intended to draw many of the
wonderful roof lines of the beautiful 18<sup>th</sup> cent buildings and explore
the museums, restaurants and attractions at will. August unfortunately is not
the best time to visit private art galleries and interesting boutiques as many
owners take their annual holidays in August as well. But the Museum of Beaux
Art was open home to a fine collection of historic and modern painting, along
with an extensive Egyptian, Greek and Roman antiquates. The city after all was
capital of Roman Gaul.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5_MptUmSlF8h3fnBmVU0azUbtBz_4C3Iz3Pb31Yk7NwN2RlgU_vl7-cpRVU8YMbEK0IFpu0htg4eWH3Bs7WcP7apl-2svRVYK5sxWa7uPTxipGvAZ17OsoMdAoUCJVwTGiZb7KYK7hTP/s1600/rue+de+la+Platiere%252C+Lyon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5_MptUmSlF8h3fnBmVU0azUbtBz_4C3Iz3Pb31Yk7NwN2RlgU_vl7-cpRVU8YMbEK0IFpu0htg4eWH3Bs7WcP7apl-2svRVYK5sxWa7uPTxipGvAZ17OsoMdAoUCJVwTGiZb7KYK7hTP/s320/rue+de+la+Platiere%252C+Lyon.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rue de la Platiere drawing Peter Kreet</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Standing proudly on Place des Terreaux breathing jets of
vaporised water through their nostrils are a wonderful group of rearing horses
the creation of Frederic Bartholdi designer of the Statue of Liberty in New
York. One of the highlights of Lyon however would have to me Basilique of
Notre-Dame standing guard on Fourviere a large hill overlooking the town. This
unique building built in the last years of the 19<sup>th</sup> century was
constructed as a thank you to the Virgin Mary for saving the city from the
plague devouring Europe at the time. The Cathedral is a wonderful example of
old and modern design. Built with carved stone this neo-gothic building
contains an extraordinary ornate interior. Indeed the Basilique is more like a
palace than a church decorated with tens of thousands of mosaic titles
depicting various biblical scenes. How the late 19<sup>th</sup> century found
the hundreds of artists craftsmen to carry out the work I have no idea, but the
final result is quite breathtaking. Considering the building is barely hundred
years old, the stone features and general structure suggest a much older place
of worship. It is possible to return to the old city via a zig zag track down
the hillside a great walk in itself.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNo9pD9NMFe1rHnOhr9sCD9A8HV0ErxDXs87XGWtircqYYU2GrA4tC1MElUeT2a-PftIk6zA0owNSsAbrHF1iUj756OnbnYfZh2bg-oVlJur_n6Ft66I32j6rAeQqg6Dy9Lst-_x-r7bc/s1600/La+Fontain+Bartholdi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNo9pD9NMFe1rHnOhr9sCD9A8HV0ErxDXs87XGWtircqYYU2GrA4tC1MElUeT2a-PftIk6zA0owNSsAbrHF1iUj756OnbnYfZh2bg-oVlJur_n6Ft66I32j6rAeQqg6Dy9Lst-_x-r7bc/s320/La+Fontain+Bartholdi.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Fontain Bartholdi</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozCKRztWnyk0M15GLS8AZGsr6cRpgDZBYKd_Ia4sjuTq-3TU7N7sYrkx98gSHSAD63yh2meGDkPe2QdfR_QTJ8ObHXhwrOQSp8dZ0d6SPuZ-XBA1o1KlLyGdpITBfZwfcWfxO_xrYn_3J/s1600/Mosaic%252C+Bil.+Notra-Dame.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozCKRztWnyk0M15GLS8AZGsr6cRpgDZBYKd_Ia4sjuTq-3TU7N7sYrkx98gSHSAD63yh2meGDkPe2QdfR_QTJ8ObHXhwrOQSp8dZ0d6SPuZ-XBA1o1KlLyGdpITBfZwfcWfxO_xrYn_3J/s320/Mosaic%252C+Bil.+Notra-Dame.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mosaics</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnPiMIqRBdU3SDeUnMDGu1eVqFNH4hY-zahHR1vPyfjXIlbcR1yGRzsRUEn0leSQM7PdwtdEKB39j6aP9IlxC7YCg7F9mWULVYHuvYz-jCX1AOZ5B0jLOICtMl9UX3HJg78pafHGgFqDh7/s1600/DSCN5247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnPiMIqRBdU3SDeUnMDGu1eVqFNH4hY-zahHR1vPyfjXIlbcR1yGRzsRUEn0leSQM7PdwtdEKB39j6aP9IlxC7YCg7F9mWULVYHuvYz-jCX1AOZ5B0jLOICtMl9UX3HJg78pafHGgFqDh7/s320/DSCN5247.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basilique de Notre-Dame<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">After a few days drawing we decided to take a tour of the
nearby Beaujolais wine district. In my youth I spent the odd summer holiday
with my uncle who lived in Chamlet pruning a few vines on the edge of
Beaujolais district. Our tour guide turned out to be a very lively commentator
as we stopped at the little medieval village of Oingt considered by many as one
of the prettiest in France. Built of a yellow-ochre coloured stone the
buildings have a wonderful warmth and glow, I could not resist the opportunity
to carry out a few drawings. We then visited a local winery. The Beaujolais is
divided into twelve appellations according to soil type, so the wines vary
accordingly. A more mineral flavoured wine from the blue stone soils and a
softer fruity flavour from pink granite. Nearly all the vines I saw were
gooseberry bush pruned, that is close to the ground to obtain maximum reflected
heat to enable early ripening. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></span><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/AVvXsEikvUbAHRoBcL31XsVZrxe2-HD2vLHHS9M5oOMMSiYsB50UQVMEK2zbB_n-dYYLeVQYjOiMVav-VFg0QY5Ev__CKE9YWrvvPkWiDs6kOLBK2pULCeRkdPFT7NwhsTBCuKq-1x35529oKZ6D/s1600/Village+of+Oingt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvUbAHRoBcL31XsVZrxe2-HD2vLHHS9M5oOMMSiYsB50UQVMEK2zbB_n-dYYLeVQYjOiMVav-VFg0QY5Ev__CKE9YWrvvPkWiDs6kOLBK2pULCeRkdPFT7NwhsTBCuKq-1x35529oKZ6D/s320/Village+of+Oingt.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Village of Oingt.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Another don’t miss experience while in Lyon is a visit to the
Sunday market along both sides of the River Saone</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">. Unlike most markets in
Tasmania, all the stalls are grouped according to the produce they sell. The
book section was all together, while on the other side of the river was devoted
to arts and crafts. Many artists worked away on site, painting, drawing and
even potting. Further down over the river again ran the fruit, vegetables and
some great cooked on the spot take away foods. It is possible to select a
chicken, select your desired spices and have it cooked while you wait. I
believe these markets are to be found all over Lyon.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></span><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/AVvXsEgTeXVK0u6wE5pndCB-ig3tq9lgNcoROvsGBtg2sr4YgjFCuiwtndAb97qIXxlyQjQPfiL4zxD_uoy2h2x41sRQkKVe_Jb_BMaPxsxBanOP1eaibn2szPmq2X9YSazqBrqcdgeFwLfffF2o/s1600/Across+the+Saone..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeXVK0u6wE5pndCB-ig3tq9lgNcoROvsGBtg2sr4YgjFCuiwtndAb97qIXxlyQjQPfiL4zxD_uoy2h2x41sRQkKVe_Jb_BMaPxsxBanOP1eaibn2szPmq2X9YSazqBrqcdgeFwLfffF2o/s320/Across+the+Saone..jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River walk Soade.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">While on the subject of food which is central to any visit it
is a must to partake of a genuine Lyonnais meal in a bouchon. One near our
hotel Chez Paul offered a unique dinning experience. The menu consist of some
six to eight entrees, a selection of three mains and three deserts. However
unlike a normal restaurant each entrée dish is placed on the table and the
dinner may take a serve of each. The same applies to the deserts all this for a
fixed price. The food is traditional Lyonnais home cooking and dinners are
seated on entry on the first vacant seat, table by table not unlike a farm
kitchen meal. This procedure<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is carried
until the restaurant is full. Don’t think the dishes are plain one night I
enjoyed pork cheek. The major problem for many visitors is the dishes are new
and the temptation to taste them all is great. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnB4B4K0NyEDiHomR74BaSygOCdF8yFmcYMLhE5j6DSJgh1W1xkmfHCS6kgkWooUVtA455LfDkHPglT8E3giMEoa1gYnd5m2jvAaR07mZQDzsrwBKRSwdk1af3W129rC1tUk6ufidqYI5/s1600/passerelle+St.+Vincent+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnB4B4K0NyEDiHomR74BaSygOCdF8yFmcYMLhE5j6DSJgh1W1xkmfHCS6kgkWooUVtA455LfDkHPglT8E3giMEoa1gYnd5m2jvAaR07mZQDzsrwBKRSwdk1af3W129rC1tUk6ufidqYI5/s320/passerelle+St.+Vincent+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><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/AVvXsEjnLmAnJ4rphVVjwf41Zu5h_Yaj59eizahdiNgKgDFX8SjtGd-6AahvAkKYmf-2re8sC0fh6mMOmk90sKIVm9NE9L1hlRV4fPkXjl3TgMRBDCIkZ5HsvWLnkLeeIKAffACQsmSPGA9m06mu/s1600/DSCN5248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLmAnJ4rphVVjwf41Zu5h_Yaj59eizahdiNgKgDFX8SjtGd-6AahvAkKYmf-2re8sC0fh6mMOmk90sKIVm9NE9L1hlRV4fPkXjl3TgMRBDCIkZ5HsvWLnkLeeIKAffACQsmSPGA9m06mu/s320/DSCN5248.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to Cath. Of Notre-Dame</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Towards the end of our stay, we took the metro to Lumiere
Museum housed in their villa an architectural creation of Antoine Lumiere. The
brothers registered nearly 200 hundred patents during their life time over a
very diverse field. Apart from their development of all sorts of new techniques
in the fields of photography and cinema, Louis invented the articulated
handgrip in response to the causalities from the First World War. Later he
invented the diaphragm out of folded paper, a predecessor of the acoustic
membrane of to-days loudspeakers. August invented the Tulle Gras dressing,
anon-adhesive dressing impregnated with active ingredient for the treatment of
burns. The list goes on and Lyon must be very proud of its Lumiere brothers.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><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/AVvXsEhp2Lp8Lcvr4JYuPFn_w7u0Mhvj7cio4X7csxUfcN_-aF319_DxBZN3KCO_s0lXvbQykvg7xfg4UPqmTrsyibzbt1zaR39mvgD7bWKuwp1lnjj8z8wmc3z1rpkcoIhCViub95yCjsvzvRhj/s1600/Villa+Lumiere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2Lp8Lcvr4JYuPFn_w7u0Mhvj7cio4X7csxUfcN_-aF319_DxBZN3KCO_s0lXvbQykvg7xfg4UPqmTrsyibzbt1zaR39mvgD7bWKuwp1lnjj8z8wmc3z1rpkcoIhCViub95yCjsvzvRhj/s320/Villa+Lumiere.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Villa Lumiere</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><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/AVvXsEi5lUitzlEWxSmAxo06lXHhjbKX8uZB334P12JFHHLbVyCeqTgrecqNwLAJYKmRISmr2T0dQTYQ3P5X2NaOzDTTwnDyjGNj0axOlNaeMyVcsPIX0jAGSWkhq1kZIeQ3B0SOaO3r7-e4PTti/s1600/Interior+of+Basilique.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5lUitzlEWxSmAxo06lXHhjbKX8uZB334P12JFHHLbVyCeqTgrecqNwLAJYKmRISmr2T0dQTYQ3P5X2NaOzDTTwnDyjGNj0axOlNaeMyVcsPIX0jAGSWkhq1kZIeQ3B0SOaO3r7-e4PTti/s320/Interior+of+Basilique.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moaics</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Finally no visit to Lyon would be complete without a visit to
Paul Bocuse Restaurant; unfortunately there is a year’s waiting list! Still I
decided to visit Paul Bocuse Food Hall, housing a vast array of all sorts of
possible ways to prepare food. Stalls producing all manner of dishes from
snails to mouth-watering pastries, Lyon is always worth a return visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPm4KRJ67CD1gWVMReBWN3vhdR-SC2LQxpyafWmz5V0vZV7biKssAhoedb8UhAH0Wp61nI9bZv16I3TCI5BvHpTSkoYI4lSxA6q_GWb2JA65Br_WcE3MfDflo41Rjsd1Mp0bOPgfPFH1n/s1600/Roman+Theatre%252C+Lyon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPm4KRJ67CD1gWVMReBWN3vhdR-SC2LQxpyafWmz5V0vZV7biKssAhoedb8UhAH0Wp61nI9bZv16I3TCI5BvHpTSkoYI4lSxA6q_GWb2JA65Br_WcE3MfDflo41Rjsd1Mp0bOPgfPFH1n/s320/Roman+Theatre%252C+Lyon.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Roman Theature.</div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-72541633989926076452015-10-26T04:15:00.002-07:002015-10-26T04:15:31.935-07:00A Village Diary.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A village diary.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Several weeks ago a body of council workers arrived at our
village early one morning and after several hours of discussion, started to
prepare the footings for some new guttering along a small section of highway.
Apparently tourists had been sighted walking along the road counter to health
safety regulations.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now the number of men required for such an operation varies
from one location to another. In this case the number ran from five to thirteen
depending on the weather and the day of the week. All would always be dressed
regulation orange except one who wore yellow and his task seemed to be holding
vertically aloft a squared off length of timber several metres long. The other
attendees on these occasions would stand around in a circle around the man in
yellow transfixed on every word, eyes glazed in a trance not unlike that
observed in many yoga classes and other oriental activities that have become a
central part of much Western social life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There appeared to be a rule that no more than two could carry
out any activity at any one time, while the others stood perfectly still, eyes
transfix on any object laying nearby, it appears that many of poles, bushes and
discarded objects held contained some religious reference judging by the
attention bestowed on them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On most days a couple of men would be detailed to the task of
boiling the billy for the regular tea breaks this sort of activity required.
Others would roll cigarettes while walking from one end of the construction
work to the other. Some held aloft signs requesting motor traffic to stop or drive
at timely intervals. These tasks have taken up considerable time as the work
progressed over eight to ten weeks. Some wag suggested that the new concrete be
painted grey to blend with the existing gutter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">One of the requirements for this new work was the removal of
a clump of old cherry plums that had created a sort of private little circular
path away from the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the years
the trees had built up a small mound of composted leaves and fallen fruit
creating a fertile mound of earth under the trees, for reasons still unknown
the removal of this soil caused several people in the village to take up a
petition for the earths return. Unfortunately our labouring group had taken the
prized soil to a secret location. Fortunately further digging was required so
that a salutation presented itself in replacing the missing treasure with
freshly dug piles of subsoil and clay from the recently dug ditch. What use all
these heaps of dirt are to the villagers’ remains a mystery. Still the works
goes on while still more men arrive to construct this twenty metres of
guttering glinting in the sun. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-33020129857335538012015-10-01T04:11:00.003-07:002015-10-01T04:11:25.690-07:00<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Concertmaster-Jun
Yi Ma.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have never really understood exactly what role the Concertmaster
played. I knew he or she were the first violin in the orchestra, who would be the last musician to
appear on stage while everyone else was intent on making a maximum racket fine
tuning their instruments. They would always walk on last, flick their
tail coat beyond the chair’s edge, then play middle C on his violin for the benefit
of the orchestra before the conductor arrived at his podium.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He would be required solo pieces when required and generally
hold the orchestra together. But the most important role was that of a bonding
agent for all the musicians who over the years become his friends and confederates.
His influence on the musical quality of an orchestra can be quite profound. Ma
is much loved by both musicians and audience and so it was with his final
concert last week with the TSO. As soloist he played a masterful performance of
Korngold’s violin Concerto, a composer better known for compositions written
for Hollywood.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The musicians were quite emotional as you would expect as their Concertmaster of fourteen years bid farewell. There was to odd
tear and considerable enthusiasm from both musicians and audience alike. a
standing ovation amid much shouting and Bravos. All wished him well in his new role as Concertmaster with the
Australian Opera Ballet Orchestra in Sydney <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-13928955828836452612015-09-26T06:46:00.004-07:002015-09-26T06:46:34.398-07:00Irish Eyes<br />
<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/AVvXsEhoSmJMwXhj51l_9SQjna7gvXpLinMLnRzma40e5JveD2rxgwCREH590-3RGLqxl0k9rKTs5R7etngIskIbh1n40u6nipKFarfhE5XThrtci9jAMhfb0gpQsiJUwRoTY4mXpUmRHV-TYVnA/s1600/DSCN5192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSmJMwXhj51l_9SQjna7gvXpLinMLnRzma40e5JveD2rxgwCREH590-3RGLqxl0k9rKTs5R7etngIskIbh1n40u6nipKFarfhE5XThrtci9jAMhfb0gpQsiJUwRoTY4mXpUmRHV-TYVnA/s320/DSCN5192.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting Molly Malone</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Irish Eyes:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I first visited Ireland a few years ago I explored the
west coast, after all this was often claimed to be the “real” Ireland unlike
the part within the pale. A place were people were still speaking Gaelic. Were all the
favourite Folk songs originated from, well those usually sung in Australian
seaman’s pubs and other drunken events. The names spoke volumes, Kerry, Bantry
Bay, Shannon, Limerick, Galway, endless lists of cherished memories locked away
in the heads of early Irish settlers to this Australia. Knowledge of the south
east corner of Ireland by comparison for me was scarce. After Dublin and Waterford crystal
the cupboard became bare. I still remember the trip up to Galway and the
lost weekend in Connemara were a Gaelic speaker conference was being held and I
spent the night in a pub listening dirges rather than rollicking Irish jigs I had hoped for.
Then on to Sligo to visit Yeats’ grave and the honeyed voice of a local guide
who ferreted elderly American women up to the Big House on the hill in his horse and trap. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This more recent trip was a more sedate affair’ visiting an
old friend in Wicklow and looking at the Book of Kells and Dublin in general. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally
there was the odd shower, but most Irish eyes seemed to be smiling despite what
appeared to be major political disagreements among many citizens. Our visit to
Trinity College to view this famed work was quite an eye opener. I had no idea
of the scale of each page, nor the more the complex patterns of both text and
decoration. Beautiful lineal control independent of its neighbour that somehow
created the impression of a line shadow. Likewise paint applied in a broken
manner so as to give the sparkle of stained glass windows. The question of
whether the painter and writer were the same monk remains debatable, but the
final work remains as one of mankind greater achievements. Walking around
Trinity grounds the visitor is struck with the diverse collection of large
outdoor sculptures. One that particularly caught my eye I believe was created
by a South American sculptor who generously donated it to the University. </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKcM0gkaGIeio7oWBXokt3W6sLdj_I1nK1GHnPlfT7nClxKyAgTK7jLxcl9lJH9-J2SRCWVqUlCNnfO9-ii330Rv3Wesmu4RKs9AiDFg6-r8kIDfdXHNbtEexgxPxPFtGdoE9zhZA8wgj/s1600/DSCN5188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKcM0gkaGIeio7oWBXokt3W6sLdj_I1nK1GHnPlfT7nClxKyAgTK7jLxcl9lJH9-J2SRCWVqUlCNnfO9-ii330Rv3Wesmu4RKs9AiDFg6-r8kIDfdXHNbtEexgxPxPFtGdoE9zhZA8wgj/s320/DSCN5188.JPG" width="309" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The train journey to
Wicklow next day presented a more fertile countryside in marked contrast to the many
miles of the little stone plots of Western Ireland were struggling farmers in the past were
forced to collect seaweed to build up their little patch of dirt in order to
grow anything. At the time I felt the despair they must have felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wicklow and the surrounds proved to be a series of small
villages, that seemed to hug the sea in defiance’s of the Atlantic Ocean. In one
part of the coast, I observed that the ocean moved in opposite direction at the
same time . Most certainly not an ideal swimming location. Looking out across
the ocean it is easy to understand why many in the 19<sup>th</sup> cent
consider this to be the edge of the world, those early Irish convicts who made
the journey to Van Diemen’s land<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in many
ways must have thought they were travelling from one edge to the other.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi565LUsd4an82tYP5YMEyevbOgxEQLVhO74GK4chYo6FWM5cJ-8ffSxutBR_z9I3dzNNFgwL1v1B3zJUgcVKk6vzZGc_kOQOChVitFQaXETlW_S3chATqUqM1-plDq9czyArW6PqSWBjNC/s1600/DSCN5198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi565LUsd4an82tYP5YMEyevbOgxEQLVhO74GK4chYo6FWM5cJ-8ffSxutBR_z9I3dzNNFgwL1v1B3zJUgcVKk6vzZGc_kOQOChVitFQaXETlW_S3chATqUqM1-plDq9czyArW6PqSWBjNC/s320/DSCN5198.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a good swimming spot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfVvmRUf-ZMt1rJCz9wfMXgr1x4uRM6U6RGqXtIW6FjNeqM4GTSSHoko98h138fuCIvy1vOQiquQ9ASlwRoXcTgowCHvCVKEaLfQUCjV5C0BAopbZ_yUdLGbHE3fx1Lnv7jvNvZ0PLgYI/s1600/DSCN5195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfVvmRUf-ZMt1rJCz9wfMXgr1x4uRM6U6RGqXtIW6FjNeqM4GTSSHoko98h138fuCIvy1vOQiquQ9ASlwRoXcTgowCHvCVKEaLfQUCjV5C0BAopbZ_yUdLGbHE3fx1Lnv7jvNvZ0PLgYI/s320/DSCN5195.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The edge of the world?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-36831987546711132332015-09-22T21:29:00.002-07:002015-09-23T00:29:15.985-07:00D-Day & Saint Melo<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMhNUyboRcA707jIRDMTXYLQzXrpfKt6wqBEuQ5LM6-SQ59f9p5liMrNxlOiPNJyVfvEA3CHErWp2R4jnLkSAggLxCg4UpqYQ-FMfrLSr7CxVJGtyQXtx6NwUIjBNeyV8KoHvTDOLp6Wp/s1600/DSCN5220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMhNUyboRcA707jIRDMTXYLQzXrpfKt6wqBEuQ5LM6-SQ59f9p5liMrNxlOiPNJyVfvEA3CHErWp2R4jnLkSAggLxCg4UpqYQ-FMfrLSr7CxVJGtyQXtx6NwUIjBNeyV8KoHvTDOLp6Wp/s320/DSCN5220.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saint Malo</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">D-day and
Saint Malo:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anthony Doerr’s novel “All the light we cannot see” inspired
me to visit Saint Malo on a recent visit to France. Situated on the Brittney
coast this medieval town was almost totally destroyed by sea bombardment and
air attack during the Second World War. A city sitting snugly within its
ancient walls, witness the destruction of 683 of its 865 buildings by this
attack, an attack that preluded the Normandy landing on June 6<sup>th</sup>
1944. Yet today hardly a trace of these events are in evident so thoroughly
has the restoration of town been. Working with broken stone blocks and
the debris of the attack a new/old town has re-emerged. It is doubtful if many
of the younger generation have much understanding of the devastation that
occurred. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our journey began in the ferry town of Rossierair in southern
Ireland were it is possible to make the eighteen hour voyage to Cherbourg, the
port that played a major role in the D-day landing. Being the only major
harbour that could be used to supply the Allied troops taking part in the
Normandy landing it was vital that Nazi Germany’s Atlantic Wall be destroyed.
Cherbourg is an artificial harbour and its neutralisation remained central to
the gigantic task of re-establishment of freedom in Europe. The failure of the
Dieppe Raid in August 1942 with its heavy loss of life left sour tastes in the
mouths of Allied leaders. The Nazi had in response built their Atlantic Wall, a series of forts and underground chambers able to withstand any sea
assault resulted in the bombardment of St Malo, along with other targeted areas
along the coast.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYbia5Ttt1W01bJPXXwCbQJ57hrRcsLZ8P9DsorGN5hfayYk6ET7Rdqtpdf_ohKcCwdmbdRbDuWxnUuQnGY6t4yAvdkIEcmR62TTyOszNu0gDIN56-5wQyCI8OHwL8y6esutgz-_IpQlp/s1600/DSCN5199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYbia5Ttt1W01bJPXXwCbQJ57hrRcsLZ8P9DsorGN5hfayYk6ET7Rdqtpdf_ohKcCwdmbdRbDuWxnUuQnGY6t4yAvdkIEcmR62TTyOszNu0gDIN56-5wQyCI8OHwL8y6esutgz-_IpQlp/s320/DSCN5199.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherbourg</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is important to remember that certain conditions for a predawn
Normandy landing were vital. A raising tide to carry the armada of troops safely onto
the beaches, a full moonlight night that would allow parachutists to
perform the work of clearing a coast of blockhouses and reinforced concrete
constructions. June 6 1944 provided the perfect opportunity. There were three
phases to the landing, air landing on Utah Beach [code name] to the west and
Sword Beach to the east. A heavy air and naval bombardment of the Atlantic Wall
preceded the seaborne landings that unfortunately extracted a heavy toll on
medieval St Malo. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At first light the sea from Cherbourg to the mouth of the
Seine was covered with ships, thousands of boats as men and equipment pushed
their way towards the coast. Allied air craft bombarded the fortifications
along the Channel, navel guns poured their lethal load onto the coast, I still
remember the sky blackened in southern England as wave after wave of aircraft
took off for France. An image that’s been transfixed in my memory. To-day many
museums and monuments along the Normandy coast commemorate the D-day landing
and it is easy to compare the landing with the evacuation of three hundred thousand
men from Dunkirk at the outbreak of war. An event that resulted in the death of
my grandfather<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before leaving Cherbourg for St Malo we decided to offer our
respect to the fallen by walking to the top of Mount Roule, past the gun
battery and underground chambers dug deep into the mountain to protect the
harbour. On the top of Mt Roule stands The Liberation Museum housing symbolic
items and photos of the lives of the towns citizens during those unfortunate
times. Our sudden appearance on foot prompted the curator to reward these two
rather elderly patrons with free entry for which we were greatly touched.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Taking the afternoon train to St Malo we arrived around 4pm
and our first impressions of the town being one of wonder, an old medieval town
encased within massive stone walls, houses tightly packed within the
battlement’s grasp. It is possible to walk right around the ancient town on the
battlement and imagine that you have been transformed back to another time. The
old town is built on a neck of land at the far end of a beach, whether it has
always so I don’t know, but to-day the medieval city is isolated from modern
day St Malo by a series of little harbours and yacht basins that give the impression that it is an island. This part of the
French coast experiences rapid tide changes were a rocky out crop may disappear
very rapidly as the sea comes rolling in. In front of the massive battlement,
large tree length have been placed vertically into sandy beaches, I assume to
help break the heavy seas that at times battery the walls, but give a good indication of how high the tide on occasion raises.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is easy to see why Anthony Doerr chose St Malo as the
location for his page turning book. His hero a blind girl who hid here during
the war and learnt to find her way around by fingering a wooden model of the
houses laid out as a town plan made by her father. The means by which she navigated the cobbled streets
and tightly built houses as she fled a Nazi gem stone searcher create high drama and
tension, it is quite wonderful and I’m sure after reading the novel you may also
wish to visit St Malo. A true reconstruction of fragments from the past. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMDWYJr_RM4h3VhqZ_L-sGlbqf2VoNXLyliWEuwpacEkyQrYTUvEYJOHMAvPewSKpLPbcQCFOWVRq5VziNZOureB-7gWrUHUZWi949E5lWv0P5xSXcbxo9Y_VEIlnzDCky_dpDBqeAhY9/s1600/DSCN5215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMDWYJr_RM4h3VhqZ_L-sGlbqf2VoNXLyliWEuwpacEkyQrYTUvEYJOHMAvPewSKpLPbcQCFOWVRq5VziNZOureB-7gWrUHUZWi949E5lWv0P5xSXcbxo9Y_VEIlnzDCky_dpDBqeAhY9/s320/DSCN5215.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St Malo battlement.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApA-Qzty5V2qiHkKmiZWZA1MLFvTI2YiFxlGJbwKILoMScntsU2H89apxfRW-uuTgo9TsuNDl2suBUDf22-vQ01hltp5udjzLap-610Goq8Llfy91sDhvZ2CPmFdLxEmauNgdkJHbGqzo/s1600/DSCN5227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApA-Qzty5V2qiHkKmiZWZA1MLFvTI2YiFxlGJbwKILoMScntsU2H89apxfRW-uuTgo9TsuNDl2suBUDf22-vQ01hltp5udjzLap-610Goq8Llfy91sDhvZ2CPmFdLxEmauNgdkJHbGqzo/s320/DSCN5227.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the old town.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-74777038067811131082015-06-28T05:05:00.004-07:002015-06-28T05:05:35.252-07:00A favourite task<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My favourite
volunteer job.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Strange as it may seem pruning olive trees and grape vines
stand as one of my most favourite tasks. Each tree and vine has a mind of its
own resulting in a full extension of both mind and body. Each often seems to
possess a desire to fulfil its own desires independently of their owner, if it
is possible for an individual to own a natural plant. The challenge forces the pruner
to observe, evaluate and finally decide on their fate not just for the coming year,
but possibly for the years to come. It is necessary to communicate with the
tree before any irretrievable cut is made. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Each vine or tree has the potential to produce many different
variables, like life itself our decisions determine the future to come. This is
the joy to becoming fully engaged mentally in such a task. Will the vine
overcrop and reduce the quality of the wine? Will this cut reduce possible mildew
or future disease. Will the new shape disfigure the appearance to such an
extent that several years’ growth may be required to return it to both its
aesthetic and economic wellbeing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Each vine or tree has a life of its own, but dependent in
some way on the pruner and other plants. All sorts of reasons emerge, the pollination,
differences in soil fertility, position, amount of sunshine and light is it
subjected to bitter winds, the list is endless. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The pruner is not simply someone undertaking a thankless task
but must feel fully engaged with this natural world. Each and every decision
should advance our concept in trying to create a better world. Don’t rush, stop,
think and listen to your inner instincts they are rarely wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-59578130320288538282015-05-16T03:40:00.002-07:002015-05-18T04:31:35.188-07:00Karen Gomyo, Violinist extraordinary.. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LjS0XIiaiFs/VVbuj8piuuI/AAAAAAAAD9w/QTZ7fURitWs/s1600/Karen%2BGomvo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LjS0XIiaiFs/VVbuj8piuuI/AAAAAAAAD9w/QTZ7fURitWs/s320/Karen%2BGomvo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Karen Gomyo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Concert hall packed as French-Canadian violist Karen Gomyo
took centre stage to make her debut with the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra in
Hobart. Her Stradivari violin ready to take on the task, as a ‘Russian Night’
was about to unfold. Not only was the audience about to enjoy Tchaikovsky’s
Violin Concerto, but for good measure Shostakovich’s Symphony No 10 [claimed by
sum to be a portrait of the dark Stalinist times] was to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The night very much belonged to Gomyo who melted into her
violin creating a memorable night of music. Her extraordinary technical skill
combined with the wonderful sound of a three hundred year old Strad produced an
electric rending of one the world’s favourite violin pieces. Technical skill
beyond the norm was required, when Tchaikovsky first composed the concerto
around 1878, he used his friend Josef Kotek to play through various sections of
the composition to ensure their playability. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Originally the work was dedicated to the virtuoso Leopold
Auer, who however thought the concerto far too difficult and refused to play
it. Gomyo, however had no such qualms virtually performed summer sorts as she
swayed and moved with the music as one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fingers
dancing across the strings in overtime, a superb performance. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">After numerous curtain calls she generously
played a piece by Argentine composer Astor Piazzolla whose music she has an affinity
with as a encore. A delightful evening’s music and I would urge any music lover
who ever has a chance to hear this talented musician play not to miss the
chance</span>Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834523047363991311.post-61719117425428142452015-05-11T22:55:00.001-07:002015-05-11T23:15:12.707-07:00Fundamentalism.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fundamentalism:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The problem with the word fundamental in a philosophic sense,
other than in its scientific meaning, is its inability to adapt to comprise. This
is little wonder given in its origins within Christian beliefs. However we live in
a world of impermanence nothing throughout history is set in stone. This
philosophical base unfortunately stands at odds with all the fundamental belief
currently circulating in the world, whether they are religious, political,
cultural or economic. There is no such thing as permanence, other than scientific
and even that has been found at times to be incorrect. Historically everything
is in a continual state of change be they metal, stone, or the world itself let
alone human thought.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fundamentalism makes compromise impossible, the reaching of
satisfactory outcomes that are amicable to everyone require it. Pre-Socratic
philosopher Heraclitus in his study of change remarked ‘no one can step into
the same river twice’. Fundamental wisdom he felt was not knowledge of many
things or ideas, but the perception of underlying unity of warring opposites. This
is fundamental to his thought.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In this age of hung parliaments made up of all sorts of
fundamental groups attempting to control societies with their conflicting agendas,
or the religious outpouring of fundamental believers, we would do well to
search for that underlying unity. This of course is self-evident, but we seem
unable to find it, rather we continually look in the opposite direction. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Peter Kreethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392959353496276719noreply@blogger.com0