Why graffiti is so annoying and… powerful

Now I want to preface these remarks by saying that my thoughts on this subject have not been influenced by anything like a scientific study or even from a learned source of any kind, nay not even wikipedia.

I’ve noticed that when you are looking around in a landscape your eyes are naturally drawn to the written word.

It’s as if our eyes seek out letters and try and discern some meaning, to make sense of the world.

I first noticed this when I was pregnant.

You see I can read anywhere at anytime.

In a car, on a bus, on the back of a motorbike and I never get carsick.

Unless I’m with child.

(what a lovely phrase that is)

When I’m in the first trimester, reading even a word while travelling makes me feel nauseous.

In fact, that’s usually the first sign I’m up the duff.

And of course my eyes seemed to be drawn to every word in the landscape.

Street signs, billboards, graffiti.

Those days are over, but they did alert me to this phenomenon that as humans we seek to decode our world.

And words in the landscape act as captions for what we see.

Of course many of them don’t make sense, but it doesn’t stop our eyes finding them.

And that’s why I think graffiti is so annoying and powerful.

Simply because you can’t not see it.

Even when you try and ignore it, your eyes won’t let you.

Cottesloe in winter

A cold blustery morning at Cottesloe Beach
The beach has all but disappeared
And there is so much seaweed on the beach that remains.
Still the scenery isn’t all bad

I haven’t been down to Cottesloe in a while and I was surprised to see the beach all but gone.

I know it diminishes in the winter but I’ve never seen so much seaweed.
Still the walk down to the Naked Fig for breakfast was invigorating.
And the gale force wind pushed me back up the hill on my way home – bonus.
I had a chat to one of the trainers of the Hawthorn Football Club as well – who commented on the weather – I pointed out that even at its worst it’s warmer than Melbourne to which he agreed. 
The boys were walking a bit slowly (wonder why… 🙂 ) so we powered past them towards our coffee and some great service.
And I was glad I had decided against wearing my Dockers scarf.

Sunset strip

Tonight I walked home with my daughter under a pink sky.

Straight out of the camera - promise

She had been at Tai-jitsu – Ninja training basically.

Yes, they wear black.

Sometimes you just get lucky

I guess I am lucky.

To have a daughter patient enough to wait for me to dig out my camera.

And one who even points out a good shot.

Love ya.

Now speaking of colour – it’s my turn to do you a favour Dippity.

Ah but that’s tomorrow’s post.

Dirty blossom

Spring blossoms

I know that I take a lot of photos of flowers.

I’m a sucker for hitting my macro switch and stopping to photograph – and even sometimes smell – the roses.

You know how it is, you’re walking to the train or the shops and you have your camera.

Well that’s me.

I loved these blossoms when I walked past them.

They grow right alongside Stirling Highway and they look beautiful.

Unless you look closely.

And then…

Get out the spray and wipe!

Dirty blossom.

Ah well I guess most people don’t view the world through their macro setting.

And maybe that’s a good thing.

Maybe sometimes it’s good just to walk by and not look too closely.

They are not supposed to be like that!

Found in the grounds of UWA

If you were new to Perth you might think that these fantastic towering gums are supposed to look like this.

You know, with those spots of bark against the white.

They kind of look like the remnants of bark that has fallen off.

But no.

What you are looking at is hail damage.

Yes from the March 22 hailstorm.

Perth’s big disaster.

That one.

Lets face it, Perth can’t cope with rain, let alone a hailstorm.

But I digress.

Only one side is damaged.

I took this photo so you can see the difference – spotty one side, clear the other.

At night these trees are luminous in the moonlight.

I wonder how long it will be before they gleam, smooth and white, again.

I’ve been thinking about that spider

Check out the eyes!

When my son was a little tacker – about 2 – we asked him what he was thinking about.

He answered:

“I’m thinking about that spider.”

I don’t remember what spider – or even if there was a spider or if he was thinking about another spider somewhere else but it was such a sweet response that we have used it ever since.

You know, when you are staring off into the distance with your mind in limbo.

Or when asked what you’re thinking, you suddenly forget.

It’s a handy response to have in your back pocket.

This spider, the one in today’s photo was hiding behind a piece of loose bark on the tree my son was climbing.

It dropped to the ground and I think the spider was a bit stunned because not even the very close lens of my camera startled it.

Even prodding it gently with a twig only caused him to lethargically wave a front leg.

On the way home my son – now 15 – asked me what kind of spider it was.

A huntsman, I guessed.

What do they eat?



No, not really.


Even at 15 he’s still thinking about spiders.

Up close and personal

Crawley Boathouse

The Crawley boathouse

Today I wandered towards the Crawley boathouse and the Eliza statue for a bit of a looksee.

On Saturdays you struggle for space as the jetty out to the old boathouse is groaning under the weight of bridal parties keen for those “special shots”.

(or maybe not so special as there are A LOT of brides who get the boatshed shots)

But have you ever wondered about the boat that lives inside the boathouse?

Me too.

Through the broken board.
A lone kayak

Afterward I wandered back to Neds for a coffee and then had lunch with an archaeology friend.

She is so enthusiastic about archaeology that it is impossible not to be inspired, so afterwards I enquired about post-graduate diplomas.

It’s a “next-year” project if it ever happens but I confess that some of the units do look very interesting.

And oh! The excitement of field trips. I loves it.


We’ll see.