Is there a limit?

i seem to have run out of things to say about Street Art in Fitzroy. Have we ridden that wave to its natural sand sodden end? Will we need to wait for the next seven big ones, tread water and blow salty snot out of our stinging nostrils? Enough metaphor. Pictures. 

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Soft 

Soft lips, soft glow, soft porn Soft base and shy embrace And all that you can taste  Is butter and sweet corn There’s salt on your lips And grease on your face – What a waste, what a waste.

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Dear Self and Other

Dear Self and Other I was a little surprised when you (I) actually voiced that you (we) would do this Dry July thing. Having witnessed failure at every previous attempt I assumed one pass out would turn into a month passed out. Well, not quite, you do usually throw up before you get to that…

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give me a title

I have taken a lot of photos around Fitzroy, since I began this blogging caper. Before Flash I was just someone walking the dog, discovering my phone camera (Nokia N73) and getting into this thing called Facebook.  It was the birth of my awareness of audience, as separate to my ‘connection with people’.    …

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Who is that?

Once you know you have food, shelter and a fair chance of not being shot at by militants (either voted in or not) you have the luxury to climb further up Maslow’s pile of rubble and check out the view. That would be you and I, standing there, because lets face it, I have the…

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