Mr. Hoots

I'd like you to meet Hoots, or Mr. Hoots to you.

He was kind enough to model for a lighting project I did a few weeks back. One day I will get more professional lighting, but for the moment I am just glad I have a large range of lamps, torches and assorted light globe thingies. And a freezer full of owl treats.

Mr. Hoots is the owl who lives in our kitchen.

And occasionally roosts in our dryer.

He is the reason nobody dares a midnight snack with out producing a silver tray of frozen mice first. 

 (and also why none of my friends children want to be at my house after dark.)

Seriously, you don't want to piss him off, he will haunt your nightmares. 

Mr. Hoots may belong to Leigh, but all our souls belong to Mr. Hoots. 

(I sold them for the photo right.)

Thanks Mr. Hoots!

First outing, Queen of Stars

Queen of Stars first edition in the Kmart lane, being a traditional location for modern graf artists. Lovin it

Special K visits Emeralds city

Ten days in Melb, enought to freeze, and rekindle an interest in all things cerative, mostly by having time away to look around. Saw some good graffiti art on the tram route some great Alice inspired pieces on the old telstra building, makes me want to do some stencil stuff. Francsouir Francini at the NGV so rich so perfect, the Italian renassiance still alive and inspiring five hundred yaers later, Kristerns house warming which I was unable to attend but which reminds me that I used to dance the Charleston, best brush up wouldnt want to lose that novel skill.

The adventure of night.

 

The beauty of midnight walks.

Places transformed by silence and streetlamp lighting.

Quiet nostalgia at the green house.

Waiting for batts at the old cathedral.

A chat with the ghost on the gallery stairs.

Hide and seek with the moon in the school yard.  

And a dream of summer holidays by the highway.