www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/05/02/warp-speed-in-i...

Today the news is dominated by the execution of Osama bin Laden by a team of US Navy Seals. I'm trying to think of a time in history when so many people celebrated a death. I'm sure that some are grieving and many others are angry. I suspect that they are outnumbered by those who rejoice. This seems to be a pretty sad comment on the man's life. Few will note my passing, but I'd like to think that fewer still will celebrate it.

 

I am desperate this morning to devise some trickery to make this post interesting. I feel flat and listless. The weather here has been miserable. Sad, grey days with no hint of the warm, cheerful light of the sun. It's depressing weather and it's not helping my mood one bit. At least there is no snow. I've seen one sunny day since I've been here in Indiana.

 

I'll toss out a few random bits from my so-called adventures of the last few days and see if anything inspires me to vocalise.

 

My cousin, Jack Stephenson, hauled me around a few days ago for some sightseeing. While we were at lunch he showed me some images he had stored on his phone. Understand that this is still a new thing to me, a phone which takes pictures and stores them. What will they think of next? Anyway, he had two very nice images of a red fox. He got them at Yellowstone National Park. I asked if I could show them. Here they are:

 

 

They are both nicely composed.

 

 

Thanks, Jack.

 

We had lunch at an ancient tavern in Indianapolis, The Workingman's Friend:

 

I remember the place from my childhood and high-school years, but I'd never been inside.

 

Much is made of the quality of the food at TWF. I chose unwisely. I was expecting a huge, hand-breaded Hoosier-style tenderloin sandwich when I ordered, smacking my lips. What I got was this:

 

A soggy, manufactured bit of unidentifiable meat covered by some kind of crumbly substance. Don't order the tenderloin.

 

If you're looking for a down-home American working class cultural experience, stop by here:

 

Try the smashed burger. It looks better than the tenderloin.

 

We also went to the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art. I'd been there before with Eunie, so I once again got that weird feeling and found myself turning my head to see where she had gone. I took a few snaps of esoterica. This is Harry Jackson's, The Marshall, a coloured bronze of John Wayne as Rooster Cogburn:

 

I snapped many interesting items, but the collection of images is too rambling, even for MPBM. Here is one more which I found fascinating - a 2,000 year old duck decoy:

 

The Eiteljorg is a place which inspires cultural introspection. The history of indigenous Americans is not full of joy. Hopefully, the long sad era of human history which was characterised by conquest is over. There is hardly any place left to invade and dominate, one would hope. There will be, of course, petty thieves who will hop borders to pillage and loot, but these will be mere fly-specks on the pages of history. No, we've simply run out of profitable targets.

 

I have but a week left here in gloomy Indiana. Maybe the weather will clear. My son, Hans, will drive from Canada to retrieve me from Brownsburg, haul me to Illinois for a few days visiting with Eunie's family and thence to Wisconsin for a meeting with a supporting church. Then it is off to Canada, Hamilton, Ontario, to be exact. I'll be there for two weeks. I'll then fly away to Sedona, Arizona for a while. All of my meetings and stressful obligations will be finished when I arrive in Canada. I plan to allow myself to unwind and rediscover some joy.

 

Some have asked when I'll return to Madang. I can't answer that exactly at this time, because my time here is doing me a lot of good and it's limited only by the number of couches I can crash on. I'll spend not a dollar on a hotel, so I'm looking for hospitality. I've been given leave to take as much time as I need. I know my work is waiting for me when I return and I am more grateful for that than I can express.

 

Healing comes month-by-month. I'm infinitely grateful.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/10/26/crazy-colours/

I need to redecorate this place, refurbish it. It's in danger of getting boring. I'm getting tired of theme posts and the same ol' same ol'. We need more variety and humour, like in the old days. A breath of fresh air will be . . . uh, . . . refreshing. I haven't yet thought about how I might get some variety back into Madang - Ples Bilong Mi.  I'll have to cogitate on that for a while.

 

Still, I do know what triggered my thinking about change. It's not what you might suspect. It has to do with moving my wallet from my back pocket to my front pocket.

 

Yesterday, at the town market, I was the victim of an attempted robbery. It's not as dramatic as is sounds. It is, however, becoming a far too common event in Madang. No matter how much we love the place, we have to accept that even Paradise is not immune to any and every kind of decay. The decay of security, feeling safe in one's living space, has been shocking.

 

As I was leaving the gate of the market, I felt a disturbance in my personal aura space. Then I experienced an abrupt violation of my very personal physical space as clumsy fingers attempted to sneak into the back pocket of my ancient Levi Strauss 501 cut-offs. Fortunately, there were plenty of people around (not that that helps much). So, when the first try failed, there was no violent second go at the wallet. That's when things get nasty. The clumsy thief beat a hasty retreat back into the market followed by my nasty comments regarding his personal hygiene.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I returned to my car and sat there for a minute of quiet gratitude that I did not have to replace my various driver's licenses, identification and credit cards. As I sat there I decided it was time, disregarding comfort, to move my wallet permanently from my back pocket to the front.

 

Reading back over that, I realise two things. First, I realise how little sense it makes. Then, I realise how difficult it is to connect an attempted mugging to my sudden need to spice up MPBM. As you may have gathered, I'm making this up as I go.

 

Now that I have wasted this much of your time, you may as well stick around a little longer for the main course of blather.

 

As I was looking for some amusing images from about forty that I have lined up for posts, I was struggling to find some that fit together in any interesting way - some way that I haven't already worked to death. A few stuck out like sore thumbs. Some greens, reds and magenta hues began shouting in unison, me, me, me, me. Well, how can you ignore that? So, mixing them up a little (shaken, not stirred), I begin with Green Coral Imperfection:

 

 

There is some interesting detail in this shot. You might want to click to enlarge it. I particularly like the one structure which sticks up above all of the rest. It becomes that place which the eyes simply can't stay away from. The rest becomes a negative space which all the more directs the eyes back to that single difference, that imperfection.

 

Switching from green to red, here is an image of the embers left from lunch at Blueblood last Sunday afternoon:

 

I confess to a childish fascination with fire. Given some spare time and an opportunity, I can sit by a fire much the same as a ten-year-old boy, poking sticks and throwing objects into the flames just to see what happens. These visceral reactions to fire seem primordial. As a natural phenomenon, I imagine that fire is at once the most useful and the most dangerous of the processes that humans have been able to harness. Possibly that is why it holds such sway over our emotions. Fire is possibly the most comforting and the most terrifying force of nature.

 

When I saw this fern at Blueblood, standing alone on its dead tree fern pedestal, the afternoon sun was lighting it up like a neon sign:

 

It looks to me like a huge green flower.

 

Mixing the colours up a little, we have here a Magnificent Anemone hosting two Pink Anemonefish (Amphiprion perideraion):

 

It's a delicious combination.

 

Finally, let me show you this lovely magenta-stained Solitary Coral (Fungia fungites).  These are also known as Mushroom Coral:

 

I wish that I knew what causes this colour. I've not been able to find a reference for it. Behind it and in front are three other species of coral. The white and green blobs to the left and below are a species of sea squirt.

 

The muse seems strangely mute this night. I have promised myself that I am going to try to avoid laying down on the bed this evening until I'm ready to go to sleep. I've been reading about bad sleep habits lately, in hopes of finding something which will help me. Lounging in the evening in the bed in which you sleep is reckoned to be a very bad habit. That's a tough one for me to fix. I'll have to think about moving some things around. I hate that. I like for things to stay the way they are. I'm going to have to get used to change.

 

So, it seems that what I ended up with here is yet another theme post.

 

Oh, well.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/04/21/take-me-out-to-...

I need to begin by stating that I hate baseball. Perhaps that's too strong. I am intensely indifferent to baseball. I feel much the same about most team sports, having been the runt of the class throughout my school days. Playing any team sport was always an acute embarrassment to me, because I was too small to be useful in most games. Baseball, football and basketball were the most troublesome, because nobody wanted me on their team. Tsk, tsk, how sad. Pity me.

 

Anyway, when Pastor Ron Arnold of Kaimuki Christian Church, brothers and sisters who have stuck with me for three decades through thick and thin, invited me to go to a baseball game with him on Monday evening, I was more than a little surprised. It seemed so ludicrous. My first thought was, "Yeah, sure. I want to go and sit for several hours watching the game that is at the top of my list of Don't Want To Do Things." Then, reason overcame me for a lucid moment and I realised that Ron was reaching out with the hand of friendship. How was he to know?

 

I attempted a diversionary ploy by mentioning that if I went to a baseball game I would probably want to drink a beer, that being what I imagined that men do at such events. I had previously only been to one baseball game in my life. I immediately fell into a deep, dreamless slumber and had to be vigorously shaken to waken me when it was all over. Ron was ready for such attempts to give him the cold shoulder and said that he would have a beer with me, which surprised me once again. I had to relent. Who can turn down such an invitation?

 

So, at a little after six we were off to the baseball stadium to watch the Rainbow Warriors of the University of Hawaii battle it out with the Louisiana Tech Bulldogs. True to his word, Ron treated me to one of the largest beers I have ever attempted to consume:

 

 

That image is one which I never expected to see while housed in this body. That's me enjoying a baseball game. It was immensely helpful to be accompanied by a friend who knew all of the arcane mysteries of the game and explained them patiently as needed. At least I could now watch a game without being completely baffled by what is going on in front of my eyes. By the time the fifth or sixth inning came along I was a bit peckish. We went down to the concession stands and each of us procured a ridiculously huge hot dog. I couldn't begin to eat all of it. It was platoon-sized. Ah, America . . .

 

Possibly the most interesting event of the evening occurred immediately following the National Anthem (yes, Virginia, the American one) when another National Anthem was sung with great vigor. The song, heretofore unknown to me, is Hawaiʻi ponoʻī, which means "Hawaiʻi's own". Surely Hawaii is unique in this respect, as it is in many others.

 

So, as the clock winds down on my time in Honolulu, I have, on my Ticket of Life, punched the little box which is labeled Baseball and enjoyed a splendid distraction with an old friend and champion of my work. Though a baseball game was not on my bucket list, I have added it and checked it off retrospectively.

 

I'll likely have only one more post before I'm herded onto a huge aluminium livestock mover and slung across the remainder of the Pacific Ocean on my way, circuitously, to Indianapolis, where I will be miserably greeted by snow, I very much fear. So, I'll now bore you silly with an accumulation of left-overs which fit nowhere else. In the tremendously pretentious pond outside the Waikiki Hilton, I was very surprised to find a kind of fish which is familiar to me, namely African Chiclids the genus of which I believe is Pseudotropheus:

 

 

At one time, Eunie and I had seven tanks full of various African Chiclid species. They are very colourful fish and have interesting breeding habits. You can see the egg-spots on the anal fin of this female which, some speculate, serve as a sort of target for the male when he is called upon to do his thing. Some of them are mouth-brooders. The fry spend a great deal of time in the mouth of the female until they are large enough to fend for themselves. Though this is not an image of which I'm proud, it turned out much better than I had reason to expect. I was shooting down at an angle through about fifteen centimetres of rather murky water.

 

This shot is likewise undeserving of any prizes. I include it only because I was amused, seeing it on my computer screen, that the foamy water, frozen by a shutter speed of 1/1000 of a second, appears very much like ice:

 

 

I've uploaded a higher resolution file than normal so that you can click on it and see the frosty detail. I did not expect this. It was a happy surprise.

 

This little bird is the Zebra Dove, Geopelia striata:

 

 

You can see them anywhere on Oahu and, presumably, on the other islands. They hang around anywhere that might have food on the ground, so you'd better be prepared to have them waddling around your feet while you eat outdoors. The have an annoying habit of staying just ahead of your feet while you're walking. It sometimes makes me feel as if I might step on one, but it hasn't happened yet. They are pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way. The purple feet make me giggle.

 

I'll wrap this up with a motley collection of Hibiscus shots. You can't swing a dead cat here without damaging a Hibiscus bush. They are everywhere. I suppose that's appropriate, since the Hibiscus is Hawaii's State Flower, specifically the Pua Aloalo (Hibiscus brackenridgei), a bright yellow species. Here is some sort of pink variety:

 

 

As it is in Papua New Guinea, there seems no end to the colours to choose from. I see new shades nearly every day. Until 1988 pretty much all varieties of Hibiscus were glommed together and the group as a whole was considered to be the State Flower. At that time, the Pua Aloalo was selected as the sole member of the Hibiscus tribe to represent the state. Bet you didn't know that. Neither did I until five minutes ago. The result of which is that some older material shows the Hawaii state flower in the wrong colour. It is properly yellow. No substitutes allowed!

 

Is this hot pink? I'm decades behind on colour names. A trip to the paint store makes me laugh out loud. Who chooses those names? No matter the name, my camera had a very hard time with it:

 

 

Digital sensors of the kind I can afford still don't have enough dynamic range to capture such super-saturated colours realistically.

 

This is a yellow variety which I think is the Pua Aloalo, but I'm not sure:

 

 

Anybody want to jump in on this one? The blooms on this bush seemed to be very close to the ground compared to most of the others.

 

This one has a cup-shaped blossom:

 

 

It's fun to shoot Hibiscus, because there are a huge variety of colours and they pose so nicely. Eventually you end up with a colossal collection of images which you have spent a ridiculous amount of time building and are worth absolutely nothing to anybody. It's sort of like collecting Hummel Figureines, except you don't have to pay for them. What could be better?

 

The church paid for me to go see a shrink today. What a thoughtful thing to do. I know it was Pastor Ron's doing. Thanks, mate. I was happy to find that the very nice young man with lots of sheepskins hanging on his wall prescribed only books for me - no meds. It was very interesting to me that he said that at the level of depression which I'm experiencing, there is no medication which has been proven more effective than a placebo. Well, I took St. John's Wort for years knowing all along that its effectiveness was disputed. It gave me some feeling of control.

 

My reluctance to go on medication for my depression is based on two ideas. First, there is considerable doubt whether a medication would have any beneficial effect at all - it's a toss-up, unless you're pretty bad off to start with. Even if it does make me "feel better", that is just going to lull me into a state of mind where I ignore the root causes of my depression and do no deal with them. That's even worse. I don't want to feel better because I'm ingesting a powerful psychoactive drug which is constantly meddling with my natural brain chemistry. As bizarre as my head lab is, I've grown accustomed to it and I recognise that the quirkiness it generates is a big part of what makes me me. I like being a bit off-centre. It's the major portion of what little charm I have. The other problem is that even if it works, if it makes me all mellow and chilled out, I can't keep taking it forever or I'll sizzle my noggin permanently and become utterly dependent on it. So, what happens when I go cold turkey? Hey, all those pesky things I didn't notice while whacked out on Prozac come slithering out of the bushes and begin gnawing on my ankles. They've been lying in wait for me while I was in the zone.

 

No meds, please. I need to take life in my bare hands and subdue it. It's gloves off from now on.

 

MPBM reader and Facebook friend Kristy congratulated me for soldering on in a message yesterday and reminded me of something Winston Churchill once said, "If you're walking through Hell, keep walking!"

 

Excellent advice, I'd say.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/11/14/fortune-favours...

The hardest part of writing this post will be making it short enough to be readable. I seem to be full of words tonight. See, I'm rambling already. I watched The Postman  a few nights ago. The megalomaniacal general had a great line, which is by no means original. "Fortune favours the bold", he said. I'm a big fan of Movie Wisdom, so I was powerfully drawn for a while by the seduction of an improved life situation by simply stepping up to the plate and spitting in the general direction of the pitcher. Though I don't believe in a key principle of the ancient saying, I now find myself in a world in which a bolder, less timid and fearful approach may possibly serve me well. Perhaps I should explain. (Maybe you should get a cup of coffee. This will take a while.)

 

The key principle to which I do not subscribe is the concept of fortune itself, or as I will describe it here, luck. I can state with no fear of successful contradiction that there is no such thing as luck. If you think that you are lucky, or unlucky for that matter, you are deluded. I can hear the howls of protest clear over here in Paradise. Possibly a thought experiment is in order.

 

Suppose I flip a coin five times and it comes up each time heads. We might scratch our  heads, eh? Five times in a row it's heads? It seems unlikely. But, we have to admit that it's possible. Now suppose that I propose a bet. I will bet you that the next flip will be heads. Would you take tails at even odds? What if I sweetened up the bet for you? I put one of something on the table (call it a Dollar or whatever, just to make it interesting) and you put two and I let you choose tails. Some people at this point might be thinking, "Take the bet. It's got to be tails, since it's come up heads five times in a row." Some people would be dead wrong. It's a sucker bet. The next flip of the coin has exactly one chance in two of coming up tails, or heads, for that matter. My expected return on the bet is greater than yours, since the probability of either of us winning is actually the same and you put two dollars on the table. In fact it doesn't make any difference at all if the coin came up heads five times or ten times or a hundred or a million times (however unlikely that might be) in a row as heads; the next flip still has only a fifty-fifty chance of being tails.

 

I'm sure that you wouldn't take the bet anyway. You don't believe in luck either. You're too smart for that.

 

Hey, I'm not making this up. Now let's take that and extrapolate it to the general concept of luck. It doesn't take much imagination to do so. Upon examination, the idea of luck disappears in a puff of fairy dust. Lucky numbers in the lottery - posh! Nonsense. Bad luck - no such thing; good luck - the same. Probability is computable, but inexact. One can predict outcomes only within calculated ranges - some outcomes more likely than others. Some will win. Some will lose. Nothing can predict who with any certainty more than the formulas provide. More importantly, there is no mystery force which changes the outcome of future events based on outcomes in the past. Artillery shells do sometimes fall into an existing crater. Lighting does occasionally strike twice.

 

Okay, so "Fortune Favours the Bold" doesn't seem so true, huh? At least not if we think of fortune as lucky outcomes.

 

All that was a red herring. I'm not here wasting your valuable time today to blather on about luck. I want to talk about being bold.

 

What if we take that old phrase and gently massage it until it mellows into something we can reason with. How about if we say, "Good outcomes tend to be achieved by those who are prudent, but not overly cautious." Or maybe, "One might be better served by being less fearful so that clear, rational thinking can be the basis of decision making." Well, now we are getting to an approach that does not depend on the clearly false idea of luck to succeed.

 

So, the question I am pondering is: How do I overcome the paralysis of fear? I want good outcomes, but I can't put my trust in luck. I haven't been lucky lately. (Wait for it - the humour is coming.) Yet the saying pulls me powerfully to its promise of reward. It seems so true. Maybe if I were a bit bolder, things might go better for me. Why? How could this be.

 

Why the answer has been so long coming to me is puzzling. I've been putting my trust in the wrong place. When what felt like the foundation of all of my comfort, security and welfare was jerked from beneath me, I fell into a dungeon of terror. All of the minor uncertainties of life from which I was formerly protected by a partnership as bullet-proof as a tank suddenly became gigantic threats, each one magnified by grief, stress and depression.

 

I try to avoid getting all religious on you, dear readers, because I know that I'm speaking to a very broad audience and that is not the purpose of this journal anyway. However, there is no other way to put it. I now need to put all my trust where it belongs. My wife is not my security, my source of welfare and comfort any longer. If fact, if I'm honest, Eunie never was. Oh, she was only to happy to be that for me, but she could not. Not really, no matter how much she wanted to be.

 

I've talked this over with some very switched-on, caring people whose opinions I trust. They tell me not to beat myself up over this. Many people who enjoy such intense, Vulcan Mind Meld relationships such as Eunie and I shared for nearly half a century fall into a dependence that is both understandable and, to a great extent, unavoidable. In fact, this kind of implicit trust, interdependence and division of labour is a major source of the synergistic power of such relationships. Together, we added up to more than two. So, I don't feel so bad that I let that take over. It was a great ride and we accomplished much more than we ever dreamed we would. I'm infinitely sad that it's over, but I need to compartmentalise that sadness.

 

Now I need to get my functionality back. I can't do that if I can't think clearly and rationally about problems. If I allow my doubts and fears to control my decisions, I'm not going to get anywhere. I can reduce this impediment by remembering my ultimate source of security. It's not money. It's not things. It's not my abilities. It's not my friends. It's my Creator, my Father. It's God.

 

Boldness is the exercise of one's beliefs accompanied by a certainty that positive and well considered actions will produce desirable outcomes. Timidity and fear are not compatible with confidence and trust. I need to act in accordance with my beliefs, my world view, if you please. I either trust or I do not. If I do not, then I must fall back on my own resources, which have already proven inadequate to deal with present circumstances.

 

Okay, I lost a few of you there, but that's okay. I'm not here to preach. This is an intensely personal experience which I am telling you about. That's all. You can take it for what you will. Hopefully, someone will dig it.

 

Now for some nice, self-deprecating humour.

 

It is fiendishly difficult to find images to go with such a post. I couldn't find any pictures of myself being bold. I found that rather odd. Oh, well. I can do what I usually do - fake it. All of these images have appeared on MPBM before, just not in the same post. So, move along folks; there's nothing here to see.

 

Here is one of my favourite shots of me faking boldness. It's from I Take the Big Plunge:

 

 

Actually, I wasn't scared at any time. I spent so much time flying helicopters or sitting in the door with my legs dangling in the air that it didn't worry me at all. The only thing that did frighten me a little was what Eunie would say when she saw the pictures. I didn't tell her that I was going to do it. That was stupid, not bold.

 

It was one of the most thoroughly enjoyable experiences of my long and strangely wayward life. I highly recommend it. If I can get to Australia again someday, I'm going to take lessons with Ali and Dave in Toogoolawah. I have a standing invitation.

 

Okay, I give it to you. This is not bold according to the definition we're using. It's dumb. It's from Why Ron and Eunie Were Nervous:

 

It did produce a nice "silky water" shot of Tew's Falls in Hamilton, Ontario:

 

That one is from Silky Water - Hamilton's Waterfalls.

 

While we're on waterfalls, here I am boldly luxuriating in a jungle pool:

 

I call this my "Tarzan" shot. Aaaahhh eeeeee aaaaahhhh eeeee AAAAAHHHHH . . .

 

Getting there was the bold bit, for an old dude, anyway:

 

If memory serves me, it was about an eight hour slog up and down heavily jungled mountains which made my knees scream. Both of these shots are from I Go Bush.

 

The last three here are completely off the wall and are excellent examples of narcissism gone wild in a world where faking it can get you anything you want. You've seen a kaleidoscope image of this character recently. Getting this close to a Pseudobalistes flavimarginatus  is considered, with good reason, risky. Risky is not the same as bold:

 

Even the name is scary, eh? It's a Yellowmargin Triggerfish. It will try to eat you if you hold still enough. This one is from The Beauty and the Beast.

 

Okay, this is crossing over into the stupid category. Check the teeth. Do not try this at home:

 

That one is from Sharks, Schmarks - Triggerfish are the Demons.

 

Just to show that I've not gone all Rambo now that I've taken boldness to heart, I'll demonstrate my tenderness and sensitivity by showing you this lovely fake watercolour of The Fish Which Tried to Eat Me:

 

As the old mantra for crazy people goes, "Every day, in every way, I'm getting better."

 

Gute Nacht.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/12/23/living-frugally...

Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me. I've spent a lot of this morning answering messages sent to me from friends, many of whom I have never met, wishing me all the best and congratulating me on my longevity. The former sentiment is welcome and comforting. The latter, well, it seems something that happened to me gradually and is only now becoming troublesome. I have enough faith and understanding of human nature to know that I'm wintering now. That is the season that is upon me. Spring will come, sooner or later, and someday I'll start a new life that is beyond my imagination. I've learned patience, especially in the last half of my life. Living in Papua New Guinea is an experience that fosters patience in the wise. My spring will come.

 

Since this is the saddest birthday I have ever had, I'll now do what is best for me. I'll amuse myself with feeble attempts at humour while annoying you. This will be fun. Along the way, I'll puzzle you with some images that are utterly unrelated to the subject matter.

 

Upon my return from Australia, I was immediately deluged with not-so-subtle clues that my life had changed dramatically. I found myself deep in debt. The circumstances leading up to this, some obvious, some not so, were many and complex. They are boring, so I'll not put us all to sleep with the details. Of course, the financial situation was only one of many changes. I've learned to cope with most of these. Some can be fixed. Some can't. Loneliness is the worst, but that can't be helped. It's difficult to explain to why one can feel lonely to the bones while surrounded by laughing friends. It seems unlikely. It is, however, profoundly real.

 

I must learn many new skills to enjoy this new life. I must accomplish many things to assure happiness. One thing which I can  do something about is money.

 

I made some mistakes at first. I talked too much. I'm a compulsive talker. I give too much away. I trust more than I ought and I take it for granted that others will be as interested and inquisitive about me as I am about them. I want to get under the skin, and sometimes that is unwelcome. I erred in giving the impression that I was broke and in dire financial stress. This is not the case. I'm better off than most of the people on this planet - much better off.

 

I'm not broke. I am just being careful. Throughout our lives, Eunie and I followed the "best financial advice". Oh, what a mistake that was. It seems that most of those who formulate this advice are those who have already gotten theirs  and are looking to get their hand's on some of yours.

 

The worst mistake, among many, which we made was to buy into consumerism and borrowing. It's easy to talk about these twin evils today, since many of you have also been stung by these wasps. Thirty years ago, nobody would listen. We certainly weren't.

 

I won't go into the property fiasco in detail. It's too boring. Let's just say that nobody today is suggesting that it's a good idea to buy old houses and rent them out, expecting them to provide a retirement income. You can imagine how that turned out. However, thirty-five years ago that was the "best financial advice", at least from the person in whom we had placed trust.

 

What I will go into is the matter of debt. I often wonder what my world would be like today if I had resisted to ever buy anything for which I could not pay cash. Certainly there are many, many things which I would never have had. However, today I have none of those things. They've turned to dust or whatever happens to all those things I "needed" then and no longer even exist in my memories.

 

Okay, time for a picutre:

 

That's my good buddy Monty Armstrong (whoops, I nearly typed Python) with his trusty Canon G11 camera. The water was nice and clear that day.

 

So, how does one avoid buying everything which catches the eye and immediately insinuates itself in your brain as a need? For me, it wasn't easy. I spent most of my life learning to subdue the urge. The problem is that plastic makes to far too easy. We lived for many years without credit cards. We resisted the temptation for quite a while. However, I can remember going for a decade with monthly payments to Household Finance. I don't care about all the money I spent on the stuff,  but I'd sure like to have the interest back!

 

Well, I digress. Let me get back on point. What is the difference between being a miser and living frugally?

 

Let's have a look at the definition of a miser from the Princeton Word Search:

 

(n) miser (a stingy hoarder of money and possessions (often living miserably))

 

Hmmm. . . that doesn't sound very pleasant. It doesn't sound like a person you'd want to have as a friend, either. Who would buy you a beer? Would this person share a cab fare without counting every penny? I don't think so. I knew a guy like that once. He owned a barber shop in a small town where we lived for a couple of years. We made the mistake of going on a holiday with him and his wife. He drove us crazy with his accounting. Oh, there was no problem if I said, "I'll get that." However, if I didn't make the offer, then out came the notebook and pencil. Scratch, scratch, scratch - here's your share. I had a pocket full of change clinking as I walked. I hate small change.

 

Well, that's clearly not me. In the first place, I'm not stingy, never have been. And I'm not miserable, at least as far as money goes. Those miseries I do have will subside. Money problems require a strategy. I have a strategy.

 

Okay, now let's look at the definition of frugality:

 

Frugality is the practice of acquiring goods and services in a restrained manner, and resourcefully using already owned economic goods and services, to achieve a longer term goal.

 

That doesn't sound nearly as bad.

 

Here's monty again. He's shooting a Prickly Sea Cucumber which you can see if you click to enlarge:

 

The part of the definition I want to bore you with is "to achieve a longer term goal". Consumerism is definitely not about long term goals. Most of the junk we buy is designed  to be useless or undesirable within a matter of months or, at most, a few years. I don't need more stuff.  I have a house full of it now which I am actively trying to unload. Things are not what I need. What I do need is a plan for life. One of the many goals within that plan is to be measurably better off in each year of my remaining life, at least for as long as possible. Since my income is declining and will continue to do so, baring some miracle, then the only way I can achieve this is by "acquiring goods and services in a restrained manner, and resourcefully using already owned economic goods and services". Well, hey, that sounds reasonable to me!

 

Oh, I bet you haven't seen one of these for a while:

 

It's a marine snail. The brown thing blocking the entrance to the shell is doing just what's it's supposed to do - block the entrance. It is a common feature of most marine snails and many of the terrestrial species.

 

It seems astonishing to me that consumerism has been so successful at converting desire into need. Happiness today seems mostly to be packaged in that hateful clear plastic which defies all but the sharpest most dangerous object which comes to hand. I still break into a cold sweat when I enter an electronics or camera store. Oh, wow, I need  that! And that  and that too!  Out comes the plastic. At least I did until now. No more! I have a plan.

 

My plan is simple. I will never again purchase anything on impulse. I vow to give myself at least twenty-four hours as a cool-down period before making a purchase. I don't care if it's a great price on a camera that I've been craving or a cheap memory stick. If I can think about it for a day and I've asked myself if the purchase will really improve my quality of life sufficiently to justify the cost, then I might reach for the plastic. However, I will never do so if I know that I can't pay off the amount before the next monthly billing cycle.

 

Snail wasn't enough for you, eh? How about a Giant Clam (Tridacna maxima): The last thing I want to do now is to accumulate yet more stuff. I'm trying to get rid of about 90% of what I have. It's excess baggage and I'd rather deal with it a bit at a time than have to sing the blues someday when I have to leave Madang and deal with a house full of items which have no place to gather dust any more.

 

But stuff isn't the only concern. For example, there is the matter of diet. Here on MPBM I once mentioned eating steamed cabbage, pumpkin and beans. That should not be taken as an advertisement that I've become a miser. It happens that those are foods which I like. Having lost my sense of smell, I now find that simple fare appeals more strongly to my taste than rich foods. The fact that it's cheaper to eat that way is, to my way of thinking, a bonus. I used to eat a lot of meat and cheese, foods which are expensive here. I've found that I now have little taste for cheese. My cholesterol level thanks me for that change. The meat which we get here never has appealed much to me. Frankly, I always found it a little smelly - not as fresh as I'd like it to be. So, why should I buy it now?

 

Here's an Elephant Ear Sponge (Lanthella basta):

They also come in green and bright yellow.

 

I lost over five kilos while I was in Australia. I was looking just a little hollow. Since coming back I've gained it all back and then some. I now weigh more than I have in the last fifteen years. I'm getting plenty to eat. In fact, I'm going to have to cut back or get more exercise, probably both.

 

So, thinking now about my plan, just what is it? First, I'll turn down no opportunity to increase my income. If it continues to decline in my present situation, I will eventually have to consider if another situation might be better suited to me. I'll purchase nothing that is not necessary for my physical well being unless I am convinced that it will significantly contribute to my quality of life for a meaningful period of time. I will not go into debt again for anything. If I can't pay for it in thirty days, I can't afford it.

 

It's that simple.

 

Here is the last shot of the day, a Blackblotch Lizardfish (Synodus jaculum):

 

Cute little fella, eh?

 

I'm not so insensitive to suggest that my plan is for others. It's custom tailored to my situation. Realistically, most people in economically switched-on areas of the planet need credit to live what they perceive as a decent life. The nature of modern economic practice demands it. Who can pay cash for a house or a car, for that matter?

 

However, it's interesting to dream up a little thought experiment to imagine how one might avoid the worst ills of spending money which one does not have. It seems to me that frugality, as a life-long plan, might work out pretty well. One might think of it as the middle road.

 

So, I'm not going to play the big spender when I'm out with friends, but I'm not going to be a miser, either. It's the middle road for me.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/10/03/sea-squirts-liv...

On Saturday we went out to Magic Passage in Faded Glory.  This is the first dive that we've done with her since she rolled over and sank on the day we left for Australia. I was a bit apprehensive, because submerging your boat in salt water is not something that is good for it. There was a stong current coming through the passage into the anchorage and the water was wonderfully clear. Unfortunately, there was a thin layer of condensation inside my camera housing, so I got no images. I did not warm the camera and housing to drive out any moisture before sealing it.

 

So, today I'll show some images of a few of the very strange creatures commonly known as sea squirts. More properly called tunicates, sea squirts live just above the edge between invertebrates and vertebrates. Because I am so lazy I ripped this directly from the Wikipedia article on tunicates.

Most tunicates feed by filtering sea water through pharyngeal slits, but some are sub-marine predators such as the Megalodicopia hians. Like other chordates, tunicates have a notochord during their early development, but lack myomeric segmentation throughout the body and tail as adults. Tunicates lack the kidney-like metanephridial organs, and the original coelom body-cavity develops into a pericardial cavity and gonads. Except for the pharynx, heart and gonads, the organs are enclosed in a membrane called an epicardium, which is surrounded by the jelly-like mesenchyme. Tunicates begin life in a mobile larval stage that resembles a tadpole, later developing into a barrel-like and usually sedentary adult form.

There. That is probably way more than you wanted to know.

 

This is one sea squirt which you have seen many times before here in MPBM. It is Didemnum molle:

 

It is very delicate and floppy. It reminds me of a bag full of lettuce.

 

I still have some difficulty knowing for certain whether I am looking at a sea squirt colony or something else. I am pretty sure that this is a colony, but I can't identify the species:

 

My resource book tries to cover all of the invertebrates of the Indo-Pacific region, so it contains only a tiny fraction of all species.

 

Again, I'm at a loss to identify the species, but I'm reasonably certain that this is a sea squirt colony. There is a bit of overlap in appearance between some sea squirts and some sponges; this complicates identification, at least for me, a rank amateur:

 

This is another bag-like sea squirt, though they are much smaller than the D. molle:

 

Just from these five images you can see the wide variety of forms. These colonies grow on little stalks which are not visible in this image. They look like strange little bushes growing on the reef:

 

Sea squirts are a hot topic in the field of medicine. Researchers have found chemicals which are effective treatments for various cancers. Other research indicates that there is quite a bit to learn from sea squirts which may teach us how to regenerate human organs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The bizarre parade of physical symptoms accompanying my grief and stress continues to march through my life. I wasn't expecting this. For weeks, long before Eunie passed on to her reward, adrenaline was coursing through my body and giving me the shakes. Insomnia was my constant companion and still is. Three or four hours of sleep a night seems to be my limit. My toes feel like ice cubes and my ears are on fire. The backs of my calves feel very cold, but are warm to the touch. What's that  all about? Some symptoms fade and are replaced by others. The daily small panic attacks have reduced in number and intensity. They have been gradually replaced by a permanently clenched jaw. I have to tell myself a hundred times a day to unclench and stop grinding. My jaw hurts.

 

I feel a bit silly complaining about such trivialities. Well, insomnia is certainly not trivial, so I'll complain about that. I was taking Temazepam to catch a little sleep. When I finally got around to reading about it I discovered why that bit of sleep began to diminish as time went by. It's a temporary fix and may end up causing more problems than it fixed, since it reduces the body's ability to sleep naturally. Okay, so much for "better living through chemistry".

 

Among my many fond memories I can relish the time when I could get a solid eight hours of peaceful slumber.

via Instagram ift.tt/2ccOLCY

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/10/17/what-can-make-m...

At the end of my last post, I talked about my current inability to derive joy from activities which have previously provided me with the emotional, intellectual and spiritual satisfaction which we all crave. This disablement has resulted in a strangely lifeless life. I'm sure that for many readers this will be preaching to the choir. As I've said before, this is my first experience with dire personal tragedy. I'm a late comer just catching up with most people my age.

 

My friend suggested that, as I engage in these experiences, say a Saturday out with friends on the boat SCUBA diving, that I pretend  to enjoy it. I took this to mean that I should try very hard to not let my mind wander to subjects best left alone for the moment and that I engage with others as if nothing had happened and laugh when it seems appropriate and so on. You can make up your own list of fakery. The theory is, I suppose, that if one does this consistently it will become real. This makes some kind of wacky sense to me.

 

A day or so later I got a Facebook message from Ush Antia who has departed Madang, but is fondly remembered by her friends. Having read my remark about pretending, she sent to me a very interesting link. A guy named Dan Gilbert presented a twenty-one minute lecture titled Why Are We Happy? I'm not going to go into detail about the content, because you can watch it for yourself. I'll just say that our prefrontal cortex gives us some remarkable abilities that we may not ordinarily recognise. Here's a little blurb about the lecture:

Dan Gilbert, author of Stumbling on Happiness,  challenges the idea that we’ll be miserable if we don’t get what we want. Our "psychological immune system" lets us feel truly happy even when things don’t go as planned.

Really, if you are less than ebullient concerning life in general, you might want to view it.

 

In order to investigate and reorient myself to what my current standards of happiness are, I decided to conduct a little experiment. All of the images which have speared in Madang - Ples Bilong Mi  are in one folder on my computer. I set out to scan through these several thousand images as quickly as possible, getting as far as I could in five minutes and pick out eight pictures which instantaneously, as in a word association test, elicited the response, "happy". This is not as easy as it sounds.

 

Some of the images seem logical responses while others are puzzling. I'll comment briefly on each one, if I can think of anything to say.

 

This one is so obvious that it requires no analysis. It is a composition of many tiny images from MPBM in a mosaic which simulates a picture of Eunie and I at our anniversary party.

 

 

Who would not respond with "happy" to this?

 

This one is not so straightforward. It's important to remember that analysing these lightning responses one-by-one is a bit like Monday morning quarterbacking.

 

I think that I responded with "happy" here because, though the surface message of the image is decidedly not happy, the experience of expressing these feelings in an artistic manner was  happy. I derived considerable pleasure from the process of capturing a precise mood in an image.

 

This one of Carol Dover goofing off during a dive is another obvious choice. Friends always make me happy. That's because I have no troublesome ones. That has not always been true in the past.

 

While it is sad that Carol is no longer here in Madang, true friendships never leave the heart.

 

This shot of a Bulb Anemone (Entacmaea quadricolor)  got the "happy" tag because it is one of my favourite underwater images and always makes me think about the great mysteries of the sea.

 

It is one of the few underwater images in which I have deliberately fiddled with the colours. This is not the natural colouration of this anemone. However, I wanted to accentuate the surreal beauty and alien quality of the creature. So I did. That's the beauty of digital photography. You can do anything you like.

 

This one is not to difficult to figure out either. It immediately brought to mind all of the wonderful times I spent with Eunie in far away places. I don't remember anything about this lovely statue which we found in Berlin of a young woman releasing a bird. I do remember that we both were captured by its beauty and significance. It belonged in that place.

 

Eunie and I were very fortunate to have been able to travel considerably during the last thirty years. The necessity of moving back and forth between Papua New Guinea and North America gave us the advantage of seeing many places without spending much extra money.

 

As I looked back over my choices and pondered my response to each, this one gave me slight pause. It is of a lady selling her produce at the Madang town market.

 

I did enjoy working with the image. It required quite a bit of effort to get it just the way I wanted it. However, I don't think that is why it struck the 'happy" chord. Maybe it represents home to me. That's a bit of a stretch, but it is close enough.

 

This baby balancing shot taken up at Blueblood is a no-brainer. Kids, friends, tropical warmth and water, a party . . . who would not think "happy"?

 

I'm beginning to see a pattern here.

 

The last shot also is obvious - family. I got this image of Tamara, Pippa and Audrey on the train returning from the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto. It is one of my favourite images of Hans' little family.

 

Though there is the sadness of so seldom seeing them, happiness is the feeling I enjoy whenever I think of them.

 

What can I take away from this little exercise? I'm not sure that I know. All that I can do is make an observation.

 

Of all of the ideas, things and people in the images above, only one is physically missing. While it is a very crucial point that my wife is no longer on the scene, everything else remains, at least for the time being.

 

So, the question is, can I take what remains, do a lot of pretending and take the lessons of Dan Gilbert's lecture to heart, trusting my brain to rewire itself in its own self interest as a function of its natural immunity against adversity and despair? Will my prefrontal cortex kick in and create a new standard of happiness?

 

I trust that it will. And when it does, it will feel real to me. Right now, I don't see how it can happen. That it will  happen requires trust in something much bigger than my brain. God will have to handle that one.

 

I trust that God will do that for me.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/01/18/tarzan-meets-yoga/

It was a grey day up at Blueblood a couple of weeks ago when a bit of silliness crept back into my life, welcomed as a dear old friend who has been absent too long. Sunday afternoon at the beach has long been a cherished feature of my week. Being with friends who have their own serious concerns and difficulties to deal with throughout the week and, as I do, wish to let these matters fall away for a few hours is a mutual exercise in caring for one another. It's a place of consolation, a place of healing and comfort. And, it is usually a place of unrestrained silliness. Serious issues are set aside. We breathe deeply of the thick tropical air and live in the moment.

 

A long rope dangling somewhat uncertainly from an overhanging coconut tree is a recent addition to the constantly changing playground. It was probably put in place by the village children. It did not take the more athletic of us to take advantage of it. Here is an early attempt by Rich Jones to emulate Tarzan:

 

This was the best part of that swing. The end was anticlimactic.

 

Will had a go which was similarly unspectacular: Swinging on the rope is no particular challenge. The difficulty is in climbing the slanted coconut tree to get high enough to clear the water. The wooden step you see in this shot is about five metres up the side of the tree. Walking up the tree while hanging onto the rope is no small feat.

 

Here is one of Rich's more interesting landings:

 

I was not even tempted to try it.

 

Visitors Emily and Alice were going for the Free-Style Extreme Yoga record:

 

This pose is difficult enough standing on firm ground. I can't imagine trying it standing on a wobbly float.

 

The results of these attempts were invariably comical:

 

This is the second time at MPBM that I have shown a picture of me standing on my head:

 

I think twice is enough.

 

The headstone for Eunie's grave has been shipped from Australia. It should be here in a couple of weeks. As soon as I know that all arrangements are made and it appears that I will be able to fulfil my promise to her I will purchase my tickets for my trip to Australia, the USA and Canada. I'm trying to pump up my enthusiasm for the sojourn.

 

Anything could happen.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/01/28/nob-nob-and-kar...

Today's post title mimics the sound of baby talk. Nob nob kar kar goo goo. Maybe that's a stretch. I'm going for a little humor today and finding it more difficult than usual. Some days are easier than others. It's a roller-coaster.

 

A few persistent and pedantically observant readers may note that my spelling seems inconsistent. For instance, in an earlier sentence I used the word humor. In other posts I have spelled the word as humour. The machine which I am using today has a US English dictionary installed in Firefox, my web browser of choice. I usually use my computer at home or in my office, both of which have Australian English dictionaries. One might ask why.

 

Okay, since you are so inquisitive, I'll tell you why. Having lived in Papua New Guinea so long that I can't remember how to behave anywhere else, I have observed that Australians are laudably picky concerning spelling. I care about spelling only to the extent that I prefer not to appear as if I don't care. Strangely enough, Americans seem more tolerant of UK/Australian spelling preferences than Australians are of the "Americanisms". Therefore, I learned early on that, since a great deal of what I write ends up being seen by those who adhere to UK/Australian spelling than the American standards, it is prudent for me to use the Australian forms. It is simply too onerous a task to have to switch from one to another according to who might be the predominant audience. Australians seem to stumble over every Americanised (Americanized, if you are an American) form while Americans simply zip through text littered with Australian forms.

 

So, in the text of MPBM posts when there are alternate spellings you will usually not see the American forms. I'm not anti-American. I'm just catering to the closest audience and the one which finds the American forms to be a little odd. I'm not saying that Australians are spelling snobs. They are snobs about very few things, certainly no more things than Americans. However, there are some things which can set them afire. One is the American preference placing the letter z  near the end of words for which Australians insist must have an s.  For example, let's take the word recognise.  To Americans this spelling appears strange, possibly exotic or even wrong. The Amercan form would be recognize. However, most Americans can recognise/recognize the word. They are not outraged by recognise.

 

Some Australians, however, would be compelled to point out, after careful consideration assisted by a healthy slug of Foster's Lager, that is American  spelling. This might be accompanied by a slight frown.

 

So, there we have it. Now I have managed to insult both Australian and American cultures in a few brief paragraphs. If you are not already tired of the subject, you might look at an interesting Wikipedia item on American and British English spelling differences. I learned quite a bit from it.

 

Having dispatched my insults to my homeland and my favourite playground, it's now time to proceed to the subjects. Last week I had the great blessing of a house guest. Dr. Riley Savage, a young Australian physician, has been in Madang several times working with the local hospital. Each time she was here she went out to dive with us. I invited her to take advantage of the guest rooms that Eunie and I had prepared so that visitors to Madang could economise by staying in a bed and breakfast atmosphere. It was a wonderful treat to have a friendly face for a few days in the big, lonely house.

 

We could not dive on the day before Riley was to fly back to Australia. This is because it is unwise to have any excess nitrogen in the blood before traveling to a high altitude. It can lead to symptoms of "the bends". Instead, we went to visit old friends on Nob Nob mountain. Tag Tap took us for a brief bush walk. On our way up to his house we stopped at the Pacific Orientation Course camp to take in the view of Madang, Astrolabe Bay,  the North Coast and Kar Kar Island.  Here is a shot of Kar Kar Island  taken from the ridge upon which sets the huge TELIKOM communications tower:

 

 

The air was too hazy for a good shot. I had to massage this one very roughly. Kar Kar Volcano is potentially very dangerous. It is not gentle on our minds. One of the more interesting recent events occurred on the 4th day of December in 2009 when Kar Kar did not  erupt.

 

Here is a slight telephoto shot. I was attempting to get a better balance of tones. I tried combining multiple exposures including one underexposed, one normal and one overexposed. I then combined them in Photoshop for a single High Dynamic Range image: The resulting image is no improvement, but does have a point of interest. Look at the top of the big towering cumulus cloud (Cumulus congestus)  to the right of the peak. The rate of vertical development at the top of the cloud is so rapid that the two or three seconds between my exposures was long enough for multiple images to develop. Photoshop did a good job of lining up the three hand-held images, but it couldn't cope with the motion at the top of the cloud. I'm still learning the HDR process. I was disappointed in this shot. I expected to be able to see detail in the brightest area of the cloud. I think the reason is that my underexposed frame was still washed out in the bright part of the cloud. I should have reduced the exposure even more to capture detail in the brightest areas.

 

While still on the ridge I shot this rather plain flower. It is not a very interesting shot except for the discoloured areas of the petals:

 

I've seen this on many flowers here. Red hibiscus blossoms often have bright blue patches which look a little wilted. It appears to me as if there is a base colour on the petal which is overlaid by another colour. If something happens which disturbs or removes the top layer of pigment the base colour shows through. You can get a hint of this by the general appearance of the petals. There is a hint of blue showing through.

 

When we started on our bush walk, I was strangely uninterested in shooting. I took only a couple of exposures. Riley was shooting everything, but I failed to get any images from her before she returned to Australia. This line of mushrooms up the side of a rotting tree did catch my eye:

 

Tag Tap said that they are edible. I'm cautious. I never eat wild mushrooms unless I find them at the market. These looked as if they were safe, but I don't trust my extremely limited knowledge. Even if they are not poisonous, I might still be taken on a trip for which I'm not prepared.

 

I was greatly amused by this very elaborate flower. I think is is some kind of Pasiflora: I hope that Annemarie sees this and let's me know what it is. Tag Tap says that it is used to combat fungal skin infections. If one has an itchy patch all that is needed is to find some of these and rub them vigorously on the skin. I had no itches, so I didn't try it. Pasionfruit and Sugarfruit flowers are very similar in configuration and general appearance to this, but are much larger.

 

Getting back to Kar Kar, here are a couple of panoramic stitches of multiple images which include the island. You can see it in the distance at the left end of the large island:

 

With my equipment and skills images without obvious geometric distortion seem out of reach. I have seen a few, but the requirement for this seem complex to me. The shot above has no troublesome distortions, but it sags a bit in the middle. I ran out of time before I figured out how to correct this. I'm sure that Photoshop provides a method, but I couldn't find it quickly.

 

A second series of exposure and a different style of stitching yielded this image:

 

The water line in this one is straight and most if it looks more realistic. However, the distortion at the right is distracting.

 

These images are for Rich Jones. Rich asked that the shot include the swinging rope from the Tarzan post. There was a Big Event at Blueblood recently of which I hope to write soon.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/10/30/look-through-my...

Before I get started showing you the ten rather odd images for today, I'll tell you what prompted my thinking about looking through things. Since I returned from Australia, I've been suffering from a variety of physical and mental ailments, most of which have never been problems before. One of them is paranoia. I'm not feeling weirded out by this, considering the number of very bad things which have happened recently in my life. It seems obvious that one might rightly feel a bit of paranoia under such circumstances.

 

For example: I can see well enough to navigate around the house without my glasses, but I would not dare to drive and reading is impossible. I was certain that I had my last pair of glasses tucked safely away somewhere as a backup in case I lost my current pair. "Somewhere" is the catch word. I suppose that whether one might consider this to be a "very bad thing" depends on one's personal evaluation, but all that I can say is that I simply could not stop thinking about it. After ever more frantic searches, I cannot find them. At least a hundred times the thought popped into my head, "Just ask Eunie." Well, that's not gonna happen. It makes my heart pound whenever my mind slips like that. It feels like running full tilt into a brick wall.

 

Anyway, I pictured losing my glasses and having to ask someone to fly with me to Australia for a new pair of prescription specs. It did not occur to me that there might be a simpler solution. Then I met Dr. John up at Blueblood last week. I discovered that he is an Optometrist with the Fred Hollows Foundation of New Zealand here in Madang. He told me that they could fit me with standard, ready-made glasses which should work well. I got an eye exam at the Fred Hollows Clinic yesterday. I walked out with three pairs of nice glasses. One pair is for distance, driving, boating, and so forth. A second pair is for computer work. It works best at arm's length. The third pair is for close-up work or reading.

 

So, I now no longer need to fear losing my glasses. As soon as I can afford it, I'll go back and get two additional sets of specs. I'll leave one at the office and stash the other in a safe (and remembered) place in the house. My total investment will be about K180 (roughly US$60.00). Now I have one less fear on the list. It was small, but it was nagging. I was forever laying my glasses down and forgetting where they were. Eunie would always find them for me.

 

This episode left me thinking, "Just how stupid am I?"

 

Okay, having disposed of that item and reminding myself that other difficulties may also have simple solutions, if I can only discover them, let's proceed with the gaggle of weird images for today.

 

When I was a kid, I was fascinated by kaleidoscopes. I could spend an unreasonable amount of time staring through my grandmother's very fancy dream maker. It sent my mind on mini-trips to strange and wonderful places. I've seen many computer generated multi-mirror images. Most of them do not please me much. I did get a little inspired by the work of Kathleen Farago May in her guest shot on MPBM, though the images lacked real-world components. I Googled for Photoshop plugins designed to create kaleidoscope images and got lucky on the first try with the Mehdi Kaleidoscope Plugin, which is free. I was immediately hooked. Here is a very amusing view of a Juvenile Oriental Sweetlips:

 

 

The presence of recognisable real-world images makes the kaleidoscope idea work for me.

 

Here is another featuring a Butterflyfish:

 

 

I wanted more.

 

Okay, it's getting even better with this Yellowmargin Triggerfish:

 

 

I really like the background pattern in this one. It makes the Triggerfish leap off the screen.

 

From the same post as the one above, we have Jo Noble free diving:

 

The centre is quite abstract. As the eye moves out it suddenly encounters the lovely, graceful form of the diver.

 

A little more abstract, but still realistic is the Green Coral image from just a few days ago:

 

 

I have to admit that not much was gained from kaleidoscoping this one. I like the original image better.

 

This one is maybe my favourite of the bunch. The starfish pops out from the seemingly abstract background:

 

 

That one if from Saturday at the Office.

 

I call this one Hands Across the Water. It's a kaleidoscopic view of a cartoon treatment of my friend, Carol Dover:

 

 

This effect is a little strange. It makes me a bit dizzy.

 

Here is another one which can make your head spin. When doing human forms you have to watch out for "creepy" artefacts:

 

 

The face effects in this one are interesting, but the strange blobs which came along for the ride are a little disturbing.

 

This one of Ush playing with a shell is less creepy, but even more head-spin inducing:

 

 

Kaleidoscoping faces is obviously a little tricky.

 

What about whole people? My initial experiments didn't yield much that was pretty, except for the one of Jo Noble. I decided to keep trying. Reducing the number of mirrors seems to be the trick. Here is a much modified image of Jenn Miller floating languidly in the sea at Pig Island:

 

 

All of these were surprisingly easy to create and the process doesn't take much time. I did discover that not every image makes a good kaleidoscope pattern. It seems to work best if the subject is clearly defined against the background. Otherwise, it gets all jumbled up.

 

You can take it a step further and create purely abstract patterns very easily, but the original image is lost in the multiple reflections very quickly, if you are not careful.

 

It's fun to have a new toy. Especially if it was free.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/11/12/please-buy-euni...

This post is way out of the usual for Madang - Ples Bilong Mi.  I'm afraid that it's not going to be of much interest to most readers. I won't apologise, since I have to do it. I'll be back later with something more interesting. I didn't have much fun writing this, so I need to entertain myself also.

 

Since I seem to have fallen on hard times lately, I'm forced to think and do things which were formerly unthinkable and un-doable. One of those unthinkable things is to sell, as quickly as possible, an object (just at thing,  I keep reminding myself) with which I never imagined parting. That thing  is Eunie's car.

 

I've always thought of it as Eunie's car, because I've never personally known a woman who was as eager to spend so much time working on a car. I did a lot of the mechanical stuff, but Eunie's passion was the cockpit - "Hey, this is where I sit. It's got to be nice!", she'd say. There is a bumper sticker still hanging on the wall in her former office that says, "I ♥ My Spitfire."

 

So, my good friend Steve Hassfurder, with the help of friends, has gotten the Spit out of the garage of the house which I must sell before it drags me into the bottomless pit. He got it started and tells me that it runs fine, as I expected it would.

 

I've been fretting (my hobby) concerning how I can get the news out that the car is for sale. It dawned on me only today that my largest audience is right here on MPBM. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. So, with no further self-pity, here is the text and photos which I prepared to send to Steve:

 

1973 Triumph Spitfire 1500

 

A Little History

We purchased this car in 1986. I drove it back and forth to work while we were stuck in the USA for twenty months. When we moved back to Papua New Guinea we decided to keep it stored in the garage of a house we owned in Brownsburg, Indiana. Beginning with our first extended stay back here in the USA, we decided to start to restore the car. During periods when the car was not in the workshop we used it as our daily vehicle. The car is very beautiful and in excellent condition. There is no rust. The body has been completely restored from the metal out. The engine, drive train and suspension are all completely restored with many new parts. There is no play in the steering and the car is a joy to drive.

 

A Partial List of Restorations and Improvements (the ones I can remember)

 

Body

GM “Torch Red” with matching wheels

Restored from metal out with no rust anywhere

New floor pans

New lower front panel (lower doghouse)

Ugly rear fender join seams removed

 

Interior and trim

New carpeting throughout the cockpit

New upholstery and cushions on seats

Brazilian Rosewood dashboard

Dashboard upper and glove tray have new covering

New windshield

New folding convertible top

Pioneer stereo system (four speaker) with 10 CD changer Electrical

New fuse box

All electricals restored – everything works!

New Mallory distributor

New battery

 

Running gear

Larger radiator with dual thermostatically controlled cooling fans

New Holly two barrel carburettor and new alloy intake manifold

New tubular steel header pipes for exhaust

Rebuilt alternator

New “street performance” camshaft, new valves and springs

New high compression pistons (stock Triumph parts), rings, wrist pins, connecting rods and bearings

New crankshaft and bearings

New clutch

Transmission completely rebuilt (no sync problems on 2nd gear)

New front brakes and new rotors – rear brakes completely rebuilt

New half-shafts and bearings for the independent rear suspension

New rear shock absorbers and new rear leaf spring (no “Spitfire squat”)

New front wheel bearings

Front suspension, steering and shock absorbers all new or rebuilt with new parts – no steering play!

New exhaust system with stock Spitfire muffler

New tires when last serviced

 

It is very hard to find an earlier Spitfire, one made before the appearance of the car was ruined by regulations, in this condition. For beauty, ’73 was the finest year for “Spits”. One could easily justify a price of $10,000 for this car, considering the cost of putting one in this condition. I am asking $6,000. I will consider other offers. Please contact me. Leave a comment or if you prefer email me at jan@messersmith.name

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/03/24/reflections-2/

"Been crook, mate." is how an Australian might put it. It doesn't refer to criminal activity. It means I've been sick. What seemed to be a waning viral chesty thing suddenly regained its foothold on my aging carcass and discovered a new and vigorous life in my tortured sinuses. I call this extremely poor timing. This is the first day in a week when I've felt like doing much other than laying in bed moaning about my face which felt as if it had been in intimate contact with the massive bumper of a speeding truck. Thus explains my absence from MPBM for a week.

 

Other than that, I'm having a pleasant, if surreal, time. The trip to Teewah was fun and refreshing. It took my mind off things for a while, a welcome interlude, indeed. I'm trying to retrain my mind to leave aside things best not thought of. Possibly you know what I mean. It's those pesky themes which plague your thoughts, forcing you to go around and around trying to think of solutions to puzzles which have none. I had just about banished this kind of pointless mental exercise from my life. Recently it has returned with reinforcements. Now I have to subdue it again. The change of scenery is helping.

 

I'll return to Teewah in my head this morning before I have to get to work and catch up on ten days worth of ignored urgencies. As the title implies, reflections are on my mind - not the moody kind - I disposed of that already. The watery places around Lake Cootharaba abound with captivating counter-images. Here are a few: The phantom tree is far more, ummm . . . spiritual than its hardwood doppelganger.

 

The water here is deeply stained with tannin from the rotting vegetation: The ground all around reminds one constantly that the path follows the contours of a giant sand dune.

 

Reflections create amusing symmetries everywhere: There are great seas of magenta-tinged reeds. Nearly all of the vegetation in this area does not appear truly green to me. I find myself constantly removing magenta from green shades to make them look more natural to my eyes. That's really a cheat. I shouldn't be doing it. Coming from Madang, everything here looks dried out and sickly. I admit to freshening up the greens in these shots.

 

Huge swaths of scraggly forest show fresh evidence of bush fires. Two years ago an enormous portion of this area was burned out. Strangely, in these habitats, fires are not only untroublesome (to the vegetation, anyway), but absolutely vital the very survival of many species: Many Australian plants cannot propagate without fire. The heat allows the seeds to escape from the protective pods. I'll be talking about that in a post soon.

 

This burt-out Banksia tree is a good example. Though it finally succumbed to the last fire, its final crop of seeds was released to regenerate when things cooled off. Here you see Ali Raynor cleverly taking my picture through the hole. No, that is not a spear she is holding.

 

What it is is the central spike of this plant. This is what is commonly (but politically incorrectly now, as I hear) called a "blackboy". They are quite impressive and can live for hundreds of years. The proper name is Xanthorrhoea: The reason for the political incorrectness of the common name is rather obvious, but seems just a little, uh . . . unnecessarily sensitive to me. Here's the explanation which I casually ripped from Wikipedia:

"The best known common name for the Xanthorrhoea is blackboy. This name refers to the purported similarity in appearance of the trunked species to an Aboriginal boy holding an upright spear. Some people now consider this name to be offensive, or at least belonging to the past, preferring instead grasstree."

Okay, enough of that. I'd rather let them explain it.

 

As soon as we started up the path to the lake and encountered the wetlands further up the dune, we were surrounded by millions of toads ranging in size from a pencil eraser to a tennis ball. Did I mention that there were millions of them? Mind you, I didn't count them. Apparently, they all come from these: Yes, Virginia, those are tadpoles, some of them sprouting legs already. There were millions of them also. They seem to have no predators here. I suppose that their number is limited only by the size of the edible insect population available to feed the adults.

 

It seems that they grow up to be these: I, being ignorant, of course, believed these to be cane toads - a menace if there ever was one. Discussing this with the ladies accompanying me proved to be useless. None of these Queenslanders could state with conviction that these were or were not cane toads. Possibly that is because none of them have engaged in the popuplar sport involving a doomed cane toad and a hefty golf club. This morning I perused Google Images for cane toad pictures. It's my judgment that these are something else. These are nowhere near ugly enough. Comments are welcome.

 

Tomorrow I am off to Toogoolawah for a few days with Ali Raynor. I have absolutely no idea what is in store for me, but I hope it includes some spectacular images of skydiving, kangaroos, koalas and whatever else I can manage to get stuck into. I'll have a dial-up connection there, so my postings may be sparse.

 

If I can shake off this disease, I'm going to have some fun.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/11/05/alison-raynors-...

Today we're going to do some more of Alison Raynor's shots from Amazing Australia. How could a place called Toogoolawah not  be magical? I'm getting very bored talking about myself, so I'm giving my ego a holiday. It needs a rest. I will have a few comments to make concerning photography and the the care and feeding of images.

 

Let's start with this sunset shot at Mt. Beppo. This probably won't be hanging on any gallery walls, but it has some interesting features. The first thing which I noticed was the colour of the sky in the upper part of the image. It is most unusual. I tried not to mess with it, so it is pretty faithful to the original, I think. The horizon is slightly tilted. In this shot, it works fine for me. It's not quite an angled line, which is a good compositional tool, but it isn't straight either. It teases the eyes just a little, like a picture hanging crooked on the wall. I like the fence post standing right in the middle. The eyes keep coming back to it. There are two trees, but they are very different. This provides some contrasting elements:

 

All in all, it's a pleasant, simple shot which speaks with a small, comforting voice. Ali emailed it to me at 1280 x 960 pixels and the file size was about 140K. That is about the minimum size in pixels and the tightest compression which works well for a photography oriented site such as MPBM. You can click on it to enlarge and have a nice viewing experience.

 

This is another very pretty image. It reminds me of the succulent plants which we called "Hens and Chickens" as children. Ali can tell us what it is, I'm certain:

 

I got this one in an email also. It came in at 516 x 639 pixels and the file size was 65K. Now we are getting into the range of too few pixels for pleasant "click me" viewing. If you do click to enlarge you will be able to begin to see some jaggie edges and the level of detail has dropped off. It's fine to view on the page, but when you blow it up, it suffers. According to your browser and your display resolution, it may also not fill your screen.

 

I hasten to add that I haven't talked to Ali about any of this yet, so I hope she can forgive me for jumping the gun. Ali shoots lovely images. I want them to keep coming - just a little bigger.

 

When I first saw this one I thought that someone had woven a spider web out of string. It is a near perfect coating of morning dew. The web is being dragged down by the weight of the water:

 

This one came in at 480 x 640 pixels and about 70K. It is too small for blown-up viewing. Also, if you do enlarge it you can begin to see chunky little out-of-place bits, especially around the edges of the web, which are produced when the image is compressed down to a too-small file size. You might have to zoom in a little to see this. In Firefox you can hold the CTRL key down and press the "+" or "-" key to zoom in or out. These chunky bits are called compression artefacts. Once they are there, you can't get rid of them. All you can do is go back to your original file and save it again with less compression, and possibly more pixels. There is no free lunch. This is why I always save a copy of an image which I have edited at the full resolution that it was shot. I use a different file name for the "save as", but keep the image number in it, so that I have both the camera image and the edited image. I might want to start all over on the editing for a different effect. I don't want to waste all of my editing work by downsizing the image and compressing it too much. I can then make smaller versions for special purposes as I need them.

 

Again I'll note that Ali did not know that I was going to put these up on MPBM, though she should suspect that I'm likely to, because nearly everything that she sends, I like. I'll also say that I'm a little jealous of that spider web. I don't have any which are nearly so good.

 

This is another very interesting spider web shot, because of its depth of field (pretty much in focus from near to far). I really like the washed out colours and the way the building and tree seem to float behind the web. The jumbled twigs in the sky are a nice touch:

 

This one was about the same size and compression as the previous one. If you click to enlarge, you will see that it also suffers when blown up. It is the same problem, not enough pixels and too much compression. The fewer pixels you start with, the more the image will suffer from too much compression.

 

This is a very sweet, loud image. It tickles my fancy. It breaks a few compositional rules, but it still pops!

 

It came in at 1280 x 960 pixels and 213K. Though a little short on my usual standard of 1600 pixels on the longest dimension, it still looks very nice enlarged. Also the larger file size means that the compression was not too great, so there are no nasty compression artefacts. Very pretty indeed, but you don't want to stare at it for too long. If you do, you will no longer be in Kansas!

 

I like this Snake in the Garden shot. It is so hard to get close enough to snakes to get great shots such as this one. For one thing, I'm never quite certain what might like to bite me and what the consequences of that might be. This one doesn't look dangerous, but neither does Britney Spears. Still, I would keep my distance from her:

 

This one came in at 640 x 480 and 48K. That's too small and too compressed. If you click to enlarge, you will see another type of compression artefact. Look in the lighter areas especially and you will notice some little squares of colour which don't blend in with each other. This is because the compression program is breaking the image into little blocks to try to make the image smaller. As you enlarge the image, you can see the blocks.

 

So, what's the message? Well, if you would like to send to me some of your tasty images for a guest shot (and I can't imagine why you would not), just follow this simple formula. Resize your final, perfect image down (remembering to keep a copy at full size) to 1600 pixels on the longest edge. Then, when you are saving, set your compression to make a file no smaller than about 200K. The resulting file will look beautiful on a full screen view.

 

I can but hope that Ali will forgive me for using her very pretty shots as examples. If I had received them at larger sizes I would have not had the chance for this little excursion into the bone-crushingly boring details of image sizing and compression. So, thank you Ali.

 

By the way, I cannot resist, at the slightest opportunity, to poke fun at rabid Britney Spears fans. My post Britney Spears Will Make Me Famous attracted more comments than any other on MPBM. There were many more acid remarks left which I did not allow into the comments. I received no death threats, but there were some which made me glad that I was half a world away from the sender.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/03/18/photography-boo...

For the last few days I've been passing on a bit of knowledge about photography to five women who were eager students. It's been fun. We've covered some of the basics. We started off with The Exposure Triangle, some basic relationships which every photographer who is serious about images needs to know.

 

Some interesting questions were posed. How do I get the bird on the fence to be in focus while the background is blurred? How do I do macro photography? It's amazing how many of these mysteries can be cleared up in a few hours of study and practice.

 

Since I'm leaving tomorrow morning, today was graduation day. I asked each of my friends to give me two images which they like to put here on MPBM. I'll show them in alphabetical order. They are all interesting images and all illustrate that the material was well learned.

 

Here is Ali's "Reflection": Ali's images lean toward the abstract, something which I like.

 

In "Impression" Ali shows that she has the basics of macro photography figured out: She's currently hampered by a camera which has limited manual controls and tries to figure out everything for her.

 

This image, Jann's "Banksia", is nicely composed and very pleasing: She did a good job of capturing the sky reflected in the water.

 

And Jann has certainly learned to do macro: There is the slightest hint of motion blur in the enlarged image. Jann knows that a faster shutter speed would have fixed this. The composition here is good, also. Nice use of negative space and the subject is off-centre enough to add interest. The image has a voice. The ant is asking, "Where to now?"

 

I like the composition here in Martina's "Man and Nature": It's a clever image.

 

Martina has also learned her lessons well in the area of depth of field: She now knows how to make the foreground of the image sharp while blurring the distant objects.

 

Most cameras will not expose this scene correctly. The clouds will be blocked to white and have little detail. In "On the Beach" Narelle has demonstrated that she can whip her camera into doing her will: Good on ya', Narelle.

 

Here in "Teewah" Narelle again demonstrates correct exposure: All of the students learned more than I had hoped. What started as a lark ended up being more work than I had anticipated. My abilities to pass on my knowledge improve each time I work with students. I've pretty much learned what they will ask and have already figured out easy to understand explanations.

 

Val has long been a deft hand with macro. She's captured many fine images of the tiny stuff. Here in "Magic Mushrooms" she shows that she can handle difficult situations. The light level here was very low. It required some jiggling of controls to get the shot. Most casual photographers never figure this out: Of course, most don't need to, because they are never much interested in standing on their heads in near dark to get an interesting shot.

 

Here in "Coloured Sands" Val demonstrates a very conventional shot well exposed and nicely framed: Val is one of those people who can truthfully say, "I've been everywhere, man!" She's traveled around the world and is off once again in a short while - this time to Nepal. I'm jealous.

 

I'm quite happy with the work and progress of these five friends. I find teaching fun and I'm pretty patient. I kept having to remind them that there are no stupid questions.

 

There are only stupid answers.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/07/02/microsofts-flig...

I get the strangest things in my inbox. Among the current Internet jokes and "funny pictures" I find the occasional gem. I don't want to discourage anyone, so keep it coming, but I can tell you that something like this will find a place in Madang - Ples Bilong Mi. The latest bit of esoterica comes from reader Ray Putney of London. That's the London in the UK, in case you were wondering.

 

Here was Ray's message to me:

Hi Jan, Good to read you got to Fiji ok. The only flying I seem to do now is the virtual variety with Microsoft's FSX Flight Simulator. I'm looking forward to a trip to Brisbane Australia later this year to visit my son and grandkids. Attached are some shots of Madang, the one over the airport is pretty close to your shot.

Well, I was amazed at, first, Ray's patience in getting these screen shots and second, the amazing fidelity, if a little chunky, of Microsoft's imaging of Madang Airport. Here is a typical island scene:

 

This looks very much like Siar Island to me:

 

The perspective looks as if you are looking out toward Kranket, Leper and Pig Islands.

 

This is turning on the crosswind course toward the turn to the final approach course:

 

Pretty realistic, eh?

 

Compare it to this shot which I got from Sir Peter Barter's helicopter:

 

The resemblance is amazing.

 

Here is a quick look out of the window before a tight, tight turn onto a short, short final approach:

 

If I were the pilot in a fix-wing aircraft, I'd be thinking about a go-around. Some passengers might object at the maneuver I would have to make at this point to put it on the numbers.

 

Here is an amazing cockpit view of the Madang Airport Terminal:

 

Again, the fidelity is stunning.

 

Ray finished the show with a beautiful simulation of twilight on the runway:

 

Ray, thanks for sending this along to us. It is a nice break from the usual drone of fish and complaints.

 

I encourage other readers to send me whatever you think might interest the MPBM audience. If you've been around here for a while, you know that the interest is eclectic and leans toward the eccentric.

 

Let's keep it that way. I bore easily. You can take that either way you like.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2011/07/17/the-red-planet-...

Nobody, not even residents of Sedona, could deny that it is an eminently quirky community. In fact, that is its primary claim to fame. We have been exploring some of the local attractions. Grace has lived here for seventeen years, so she knows the lay of the land pretty well. One place which attracted my attention from the beginning is the Red Planet Diner on Route 89A, the main drag through Oak Creek Village.

 

It's not all that impressive from the outside. It defies the sensibilities of the Sedona Color Police, who insist that desert tones are the only suitable shades for architecture. Sedona is the only place in the world where the golden arches of McDonalds are teal. Aside from the flashy neon sign in front, there is not much to attract the attention of passersby.

 

Oh, wait. There is one other little thing. Just off the road in front of the parking lot is a captured flying saucer. As I have heard, the proper term is Unidentified Flying Object. This, however, does not seem to fit, as this object has been clearly identified. It is an Unreasonably Funny Object:

 

 

I won't show you images of the food. I've had to many complaints about ugly food here at MPBM. I will, however, say that the menu is typically diner-style. There are plenty of choices and the meal we had was very tasty. They have a decent bar. The service is cheerful and amusing. All of the staff wear t-shirts bearing the greeting, "Welcome Earthlings.":

 

 

It probably the only establishment on the planet featuring an alien restroom attendant:

 

 

Alas, there is no jukebox. The selection boxes at the tables have long been colonized by tiny aliens:

 

 

Other small aliens float ghostlike around the ceiling while their scout ship hovers silently:

 

 

A more robust alien serves as maître d’:

 

 

The usual "Please wait to be seated" placard is replace by a more amusing version.

 

I couldn't resist posing Grace at the door. Really, someone should talk to these aliens about clothing:

 

 

Grace was visibly discomfited by the proximity of a naturalist alien.

 

I find myself in a place where being far out on the fringes of the bell curve is perfectly acceptable. The presence of many long-haired, freaky people is very comforting. It's not unlike a warmer Hamilton, Ontario, except for the pervasive woo-woo factor. It will be interesting to see what happens to Sedona when the New Age becomes passé, as it surely will.

 

Nothing lasts forever.

tree

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/03/15/oh-blenny/

Today's interesting development concerns the Facebook/email hack that I mentioned a few days ago in The Birds! It seems that my Facebook friend had been hacked and the emails urgently asking for money to escape London were sent to her Facebook friends were from the hacker. I noticed that the same person returned to Facebook, so I sent her a message asking of she had, perchance, recently been to London. She related the hacking incident to me. It is a sad tale. It reminds me to keep my own security up. I was happy to find that I had not been suckered into an elaborate fake Facebook friend scheme. She is real, and a nice person at that. I'm slightly less cynical than I was a couple of days ago. That's always a good way to start the week.

 

Speaking of starting the week, here's a Monday sunrise for you: I've seen better, but this one will do.

 

Today we're doing mostly Blennys. I've had quite a few of these cute little fish here before. You can find them by putting blenny in the search box. You've seen the Three-Lined Blenny (Ecsenius trilineatus)  before on Madang - Ples Bilong Mi: The details of the eyes are interesting, if you care to examine them by clicking to enlarge the image. Blennys are usually small fish, some species are among the smallest fish on the planet. Some Gobys are even smaller.

 

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is a fish that you've never seen before on MPBM. If fact, you'll have to look closely to see it at all: It's a Tripplespot Blenny (Crossosalarias macrospilus)  and this is the first one that I've managed to digitize:

 

Here's another shot of the same specimen. It was moving around nervously from place to place. Where is landed here on this leather coral its camouflage doesn't work very well: The common name makes no sense to me. I see only one big spot.

 

You've seen the Latticed Sandperch (Parapercis clathrata)  several times here, mostly females. I admit a bias towards photographing females: Males of this species have a big, black spot just above the pectoral fins behind the eyes. You can see in this young specimen that it is just developing. You can see an adult male specimen in this post.

 

I'll toss a little colour onto this page with one of the reddest fish that I know, the Scarlet Soldierfish (Myripisits pralinia): They tend to hang around in these little caves in the reef. You can see another one in this post.

 

It's time now to go out to check for the sunrise quality level. I know, I know, it's a dirty job. Such is the life of a beach bum.

Twitter’s “Trends” are normally perplexing. Why is #MPBMS or #TechMunch trending? You had to simply click through and determine it out for your self. When Fb copied Twitter’s traits in 2014, it vastly improved them by including human-created descriptions ideal under so you knew if you cared ...

First 1000 businesses who contacts honestechs.com will receive a business mobile app and the development fee will be waived. Contact us today.

‪#‎electronics‬ ‪#‎technology‬ ‪#‎tech‬ ‪#‎electronic‬ ‪#‎device‬ ‪#‎gadget‬ ‪#‎gadgets‬ ‪#‎instatech‬ ‪#‎instagood‬ ‪#‎geek‬ ‪#‎techie‬ ‪#‎nerd‬ ‪#‎techy‬ ‪#‎photooftheday‬ ‪#‎computers‬ ‪#‎laptops‬ ‪#‎hack‬ ‪#‎screen‬

 

honestechs.com/2016/08/27/fb-ditches-helpful-trending-top...

Fly Synthesis Storch, Ikarus C42,

Duxford 26-8-15

via Instagram ift.tt/2cPiJ1x

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/10/13/sympathy-and-re...

I have been feeling as if I have been concentrating here a great deal on current events concerning Eunie's passing and neglecting to feed myself and my readers with enough variety of ideas and images to keep us all distracted. After all, aside from being a personal journal, Madang - Ples Bilong Mi  is intended to be a minor but useful distraction from the vagaries and vicissitudes of the daily grind. However, as I look back over the last couple of weeks, I see that there is still some variety there and I may not have strayed as far into my navel as I had thought. Pardon the existentialist humour.

 

So, as I have not completely disappeared into that dark, furry place (though it was a close call), I'll tell you what happened on Saturday.

 

As those who have been reading MPBM and holding my hand on this journey will already know, this is the second Memorial Service for Eunie. The first was held in Gympie, Australia. Having survived that one, I felt reasonably confident that I would make it through once again. It is so strange just how much one can exaggerate, as such an event approaches, the magnitude of the suffering which will be on offer. I imagined having a stroke and falling down dead, an idea which leaves me thinking, "Eh! What would be so bad about that?", aside from the horrible mess it would leave behind for my friends. And then I think, "Remember what a Drama Queen you are, stupid!"

 

The sad part of this is that I get so caught up in self-pity (not for the first time in my life) that I completely miss the point of what's going on. Well, that wasn't the case on Saturday or at least I think it wasn't. I'll get to that in a minute. First, let's lighten this up a little. I need to let the sad face rest for a bit.

 

It my entire long and mysterious life, I do not recall ever having anything at all to do with a mayor. This seems a little odd. One would think that it would require active avoidance to have escaped the attention of or never have had the need to interact with a mayor. But not me. I take the road less travelled. Until now:

 

What you are looking at is a Sympathy card from the Mayor of Gympie, Australia and his good wife. This arrived in my mailbox one day and caused me to scratch my head. Does the funeral director notify the mayor's office when someone is processed through on the way to the final destination? Does someone in the mayorial chain of command read the death notices? Or, as I suspect, did my friend Val Jerram have something to do with this? Hmmm . . . Busy, busy, busy.

 

Okay, here is another puzzle:

 

I believe that, by any standard, this could be called an incomplete address. The town name is implied, providing you know the geography of Papua New Guinea, as is, of course, the country. However there is no street address or P. O. Box. Di Cassell is well known, but not that  well known. When Di gave it to me, we both engaged in a little head scratching. We agreed that it was worthy of a slot in a post on MPBM. I'd say that someone at Australia Post was really on his toes that day. [Please excuse the use of the masculine pronoun to cover all of those Postmen and Postettes. English sadly lacks multi-gender pronouns. His/her, just doesn't cut it.]

 

On Saturday, the crowd was not as large as we thought it might be. That was neither a disappointment nor a source of concern. Every person who needed to be there was there. It's just the way it played out. I don't estimate very well, so I won't bother saying how many. Here's a shot that includes most of the group which came to, as the expression goes, pay their respects:

 

Early in the service a group of ladies from our office and from the Country Women's Association sang Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross,  one of Eunie's favourites. For the first time since I returned from Australia, I dissolved in a flood of tears. I had been waiting for that. It was good:

 

The group included our haus meri,  Juli, who has been managing our household for twenty-seven years, freeing Eunie to concentrate on her work. I also invited Sisilia, our next-door neighbour, to sing with the ladies.

 

When William Butler, one of the senior members of our organisation and a friend who knew Eunie far better than most rose to speak about Eunie's work, I fell apart again as he began to read John 3:16  in Waran, the language in which he has been working for over thirty years. I can not imagine a more fitting way to represent the focus of all of Eunie's efforts, bringing the message of the Gospel to the people of Papua New Guinea in their heart languages.

 

 

William was his usual eloquent self. Through my sobs I heard him speak with admirable skill and the great passion of a true friend. When he was finished I was exhausted for the moment and feeling very grateful to him for such a beautiful tribute to my wife.

 

I wish that I had an image of Mike Cassell delivering the eulogy which he wrote for Eunie. A great number of the Madang "family" were present on Saturday. I know that all who were there appreciated Mike's honest and loving portrayal of Eunie's life and her many contributions to the welfare and happiness of the community. Again, I was overcome.

 

Paradoxically, some good things are made more powerful and meaningful because they are hard to endure. Saturday was a hard day for me, and for my friends. It freshened the wound of our loss and brought back anew the sadness we feel when denial is subdued and we realise once again that we will never again see the radiant smile and hear the joyous laughter of our Eunie. And yet, there was benefit for all of us. We had our opportunity to collectively remember and celebrate a life well lived. We could pool our grief and leave some of it in that place, ready to proceed with our lives while carrying Eunie home in our memories.

 

It was a good day.

Baraboo River

...

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/12/21/guest-shooter-p...

Tonight it's my pleasure to bring to your screen a young photographer who is learning the craft. Pania Brown and I have been corresponding on Facebook for some time concerning photographic techniques. When Pania started her studies for a Diploma of Professional Photography, I suggested that she gather work from her assignments and others from her favourites collection and send them to me for a Guest Shoot. I really enjoy giving people what is sometimes their first exposure on the web.

 

It's our great fortune that I'm not in a writing mood tonight. I'm still digesting the events of the last few days and bracing myself for the Christmas holiday. So, I'll let Pania introduce herself and present her images along with her comments. I'll jump back in at the end.

 

Enjoy!

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

My name is Pania Brown (nee Williams) and I am a proud ex MK (Missionary Kid). It’s been 23 years since I left PNG, but I still call it home. I consider myself blessed, for my formative years were spent growing up in a beautiful part of the world. My first 9 years were lived on a variety of remote village mission stations out on the Ramu River,  and then I was gifted with 5 delicious years from the ages of 9 -14 exploring all that the lovely Madang had to offer. For me the memories are vivid, full of colour and movement. For me it will always be a magical place that time forgot. It is of course all a matter of perspective, and as a child I focused not on the relative isolation that my poor mother must have faced. I worried little for the pesky weevils that had once again invaded the flour. Nor did I lose any sleep for the safety of my father as he traversed the swollen flooding rivers, avoided the crocodiles, bull sharks, snakes, spiders and other incredible creatures that lurked within the jungles. It concerned me not that the truck was bogged, or that the next plane in with all our food supplies had been delayed for another 3-6 weeks by bad weather. Such concerns were not for me to concern myself with, for as a child for there was always fish to be caught, friends to spend my time with, fresh tropical fruit to be picked and coconuts a plenty. For me the experience was one of total adventure, of true fun and exploration – everything that an ideal childhood should be. On return to Melbourne (Australia) at the age of 14 I struggled greatly to adjust. For me the reverse culture shock was extreme. My beautiful outdoor playground and reef was replaced with trains, buses, tall skyscrapers, millions of people – a relative concrete jungle with danger on every corner. I yearned for the blue of the ocean, the colour of the reef and the simplicity of life in a land that commercialism hadn’t quite invaded... but that was 1987 - perhaps it’s not the same any more, but for me time has stood still.

 

These days I call Townsville home in the beautiful Far North of Queensland. We have a lovely home perched on the edge of a river. I find myself surrounded once again by stunning examples of natures finest. I decided recently to do something that I have wanted to do for years – a Diploma of Professional Photography. It’s a far cry from my day job which is founded more in operations management, recruitment, reporting and meeting KPI’s. I claim to be no expert by any means and there are many more gifted than I, but to tell a story and to capture a memory is the greatest gift of all. One that I hope to share with those that I love and hold most dear – and hopefully to extend to those that I am fortunate enough to call friends as our paths cross in life.

 

Jan has kindly invited me to submit a guest shoot on MPBM with a few samples from my recent assignments. This is indeed a great privilege and a great honour as I know full well the calibre of his reading audience and the high regard with which he is held, so thank you for sharing your wonderful wall with me Jan.

 

The first shot I have included is of a beautiful Frangipani flower – it reminds me so much of life in PNG. Very simple, but the colours are like a delicious bowl of tropical fruit – thus it’s common name I guess - “fruit salad plumeria” - almost looks good enough to eat, but I can tell you from childhood experience they taste like “beep beep”

 

“True Balance” was a bit of fun, a Sunday afternoon project during a beach walk with my family. I spent ages playing with this one -a simple stack of washed beach rocks towered up and balanced precariously as the waves threatened to knock it crashing into the foam while I darted in and out of the waves and avoided dunking my camera in the sea. I can still hear the giggles and the yells of “No!” as I got the last shot and a big dumping wave washed it all away.

 

“Nature’s Treasure” was taken the same day and I love the fragility of this tiny perfect shell cradled in my little daughter’s hand. There was no way she was going to let this one go - even whilst I tried to capture the image she clung tight and squealed when the waves got too close and threatened to wash her new jewel back into the sea from where it came. I remember well the beautiful shells we found in PNG and that same feeling I experienced as a little girl when a lovely cowry shell caught my eye, and for a moment I had a tear in my eye for my little girl was experiencing that same wonderful gift of God’s finest creations.

 

The next group of shots were taken in one of my latest assignment submissions. The project with which I was charged was to shoot a variety of images for a magazine shoot - to reflect “a sense of place” – to capture the essence of Townsville in a handful of shots. So I give you now a quick visit to my lovely home town. I hope one day you will venture here too, for it like Madang is a beautiful and relatively unknown part of the world.

 

I’ll start you off with a lovely view across the bay – shooting back across the water and looking towards Castle Hill with the cheeky Red Baron bobbing in the foreground. Castle Hill is an iconic Townsville landmark. There is a strong hill climb culture in this town - new comers are challenged to climb the slopes, whilst many locals are amused by these silly antics and still proclaim that there is no need to climb that which one can drive up in a car. After 4 years living here I finally mustered the courage to climb the hill and now climb it weekly. The sense of accomplishment is fantastic and invigorating, some would even say therapeutic. There are many that run, cycle or climb it regularly and it is considered by many to be a ritual or a right-of-passage to be considered a true local. The Red Baron is a lovely old floating bi-plane that offers scenic tourist flights over our fair city and Magnetic Island. It is a pleasure I am yet to experience, but the looks on the faces are certainly priceless as it does low fly-overs and buzzes the unsuspecting tourists lying on the beach.

 

Next stop is the deliciously cool and invigorating “Strand Water Park”. It can only be described as a colourful explosion of bright colours. Thousands of mega litres of clean water cascade, squirt, spray and pour from every corner of the playground. This image freeze frames the lovely water, the motion is stalled for a brief second but the squealing and delight of dozens of children still continued as the water dumped out of that fantastic big bucket and onto their heads. It’s how we came to live here, with the prospect of new jobs we came to inspect this new town – our three children agreed unanimously that this would be a good place to call home as nowhere else had such a fabulous water playground. They were right; it’s been a fantastic place to take our visiting friends and relatives and is always talked about long after their visits.

 

In completing this project I was trying to capture not only the classic and iconic landmarks of our town, but to also capture random snippets that “didn’t quite fit’. This shot of the delightfully French inspired canopies and wrought iron light fittings in downtown CBD Townsville doesn’t quite fit with our theme of tropical palm trees and old Queenslanders and reminded me much of downtown Paris. Perhaps Townsville is a big Shabby Chic, but I was intrigued all the same that I could create an image of one town that looked more like another.

 

Next stop a quick shot taken under the Bowen Road Bridge. Relatively tranquil but I loved this shot as it creates a sense of remoteness when in fact right behind that wonderfully talk brick tower is a modern and bustling housing estate. I loved the reflections and quiet peace in this shot when in reality, above me on that giant bridge thundered hundreds of trucks, buses, cars and roaring motorbikes.

 

The mystical wall was another location that many have inquired about. For me it was a bit of an Alice in Wonderland moment. I wonder, I wonder, what’s behind the wall? in fact there is an old run down red brick building that used to be a convent but the building is now quire derelict, and the yards are now cluttered with old broken car bodies, boats, building materials, but from this angle it could take you anywhere.

 

The shot of the mystery swimming man was a matter of being in the right place at the right time. I giggled with glee as I realised I had caught him mid motion, totally focused on each stroke.

 

And finally I leave you with one of my favourite shots – “Townsville Pier by Night”. The gorgeous blue is striking, the lens flare a total fluke but I was so happy to have captured a special moment with my beloved husband. A delicious and rare moment of “two” in a busy life of “five”.

 

Thank you for sharing my journey, perhaps one day if you are passing through you will stop for coffee and enjoy the view from my veranda as I do . . . until then God Bless. May you enjoy every day as if it were your last and treasure most the moments spent with those that have been given to share your journey in this life . . .

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

As a middling good amateur photographer, it is interesting to me to look at Pania's images to see if I can think the way she was thinking when she tripped the shutter. In each of the images I fancy that I can determine how she was giving voice to the vision. I see a good eye for composition, nice use of the rules without making the rules the point of the image. Certainly, I see things which I might have done differently, yielding a different vision, a different voice. Photographers love to look at the images of other photographers. I've seldom encountered criticism, but often answered very pointed questions. We are, in our way, very geeky. That's what makes it fun.

i say this is a tree

a 16 second exposure of the sky and its' moon. here's what it looks like with flash. my "tripod" was a beer bottle, which is why it isn't framed as nicely as i wish it was.

www.messersmith.name/wordpress/2010/11/10/the-relaxing-ar...

As part of my plan to get more sleep, I'm forcing myself to stay up until at least 23:30 each night. The other part of the plan is not  to lounge in bed watching the same movie on HBO for the twentieth time. I realised that I had failed the second part of the plan this evening when I caught myself staring mesmerised near the end of Dr. Strangelove  at about the point where Slim Pikins was mounting the hydrogen bomb with his cowboy hat on. There is nothing at all wrong with Dr. Strangelove.  It's an excellent flick. However, it might be considered excessive to have viewed it as many times as I have. I have most of the dialogue memorised.

 

So, here it is at 23:07 already and I'm just getting around to writing. I did, however manage the time this evening, since I cooked yesterday evening (boiled cabbage, steamed pumpkin, broccoli, pasta with tomato and mushroom sauce) to download some new free Photoshop filters. When I cook, I cook frantically - several dishes at a time. I had the entire stove going yesterday. It was as hot as the hubs of Hades in the kitchen.

 

So, I'm celebrating a little free time this evening by engaging in my most relaxing hobby - Fake Art. Some reasons why I find it relaxing are that nobody is telling me how to do it and I have absolutely no constraints. I'm pleasing only myself and, contrary to popular opinion, I'm quite easy to please.

 

So, let's get on with it.

 

Oh, before I forget . . . Stupid Mistake #987 (I start counting all over again on each January 1st). I didn't think of survivors benefit's.  Well, I sort of thought of it, but not effectively. When I noticed that Eunie's Social Security money was no longer showing up in the bank account along with mine I reckoned that I just wouldn't be getting any. Then a friend (a Canadian,  for pity's sake!) said to me yesterday that she thought that I should be getting survivor's benefits and maybe I would have to apply. Apply? APPLY?? Why didn't I think of that? I don't think that I'm a danger to others, but I'm certainly a danger to myself.

 

So, I got on the web site for the SSA and discovered that it may be true. I may not be as impoverished as I thought. Not quite. Wish me luck as I try to figure out how to apply without appearing at the nearest SSA office, as that seems to be the only way to go.

 

Now, let's get on with it.

 

Here is That Flower which I can never remember the name of:

 

There is a big vine full of them right outside my front door alongside the Night Blooming Jasmine, which I can't smell any more (interesting story there if you can find it on MPBM). The filter I used is a nice outliner. I'm going to try it for cartooning.

 

Here are some of my orchids harassed by the Bad Dream filter:

 

I still can't decide if I like the effect or not.

 

Regulars here will recognise my favourite orange lily:

 

This filter is a pretty good posteriser. Posterisation is simply the reduction of the number of colours in an image. This one I do like.

 

I can't remember the name of the filter which I used for this image. I call the resulting image Coleus on Acid:

 

It is dramatic enough.

 

And this is one of my many, many Bird of Paradise plants:

 

This one has been chewing magic mushrooms since late last night. Its consciousness has now fully expanded.

 

A yellow flower with dew drops. How prosaic. The filter also is likewise subtle, but insistent:

 

This one may be my favourite. I can't decide.

 

No, I could  decide, but I'm not making any more decisions today.

 

It's 23:35 and I'm going to try to go to sleep.

 

Wish me luck with that, eh?

From a dark adventure in a cemetary on a hill in Madison, WI...

wandering arounf the new backyard at Sound Devices

...

From a dark adventure in a cemetary on a hill in Madison, WI...

wandering arounf the new backyard at Sound Devices

this is a photo by casey grajek. these birds almost killed him, he says...