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January 18, 2014

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As you can see from the panoramas taken at Swanbourne beach this week, I need to practice holding steady as I swing to the right; my horizons tend to dip. Same problem here:

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Maybe I need to use a tripod. Feedback loops make powerful allies in learning new skills.

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From beach scenes to the city where landscapes are being revised, renewed and recharted…

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… I overheard passersby complaining about the seemingly endless nature of construction. Rather than work-in-progress lenses, pedestrian Perth-ites stuck at traffic lights gave vent to the obvious frustrations experienced by those sufficiently unwise to be driving through the congestion. A common element appeared to be suffering.

Reminds me of Blake’s words:

I wander thro’ each chartered street,

Near where the chartered Thames does flow,

And mark in every face I meet

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

Here’s a view east up Wellington Street:

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The old Telstra (used to be Telecom) building on the right fades into tragic beige obscurity alongside the new Arena on the left. For a different perspective, consider this circa 1974 panorama taken from the AMP building while Telecom rose within its own crane and scaffold exoskeleton. Imagine the sense of vertical pride this generated at the time.

Then & now: Impressive transmutation. Looking reveals shift/stark contrasts.

  • Banish the rectilinear.
  • Introduce colour, texture and playful irreverence.
  • Break old patterns and habits/attitudes.
  • Step into the void.

Once again, observation seems to afford us in education opportunities to consider meaning within the constant nature of change as well as possible ways to be in this ecosystem.

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Unwinding steadily backwards as I have been within the reflective photo-journey of this blog post, retracing my footsteps to the actual beginning, or (in real time) start point, we find ourselves inside the Department of Immigration and Border Protection. This was a holiday goal yesterday: To resolve issues with my re-entry resident visa in preparation for travel in April/May.

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Didn’t look much like fun, I’ll admit, and I’d already visited the dentist at 9am before catching a train into the city, so pleasure can be seen as framed along a continuum. More perspective.

What’s crucial to this image is that as a new Australian (for 39 years), keeping eyes open to the differences we discovered seemed part of the deal my parents, as migrants, signed up for in the first place. One decision lead to many other steps in the sequence. Change as constant ebb and cyclic flow.

Outcome? I achieved in 40 minutes what had been experienced as frustratingly impossible online; my status is BF111 according to the department, which is special. No re-entry visa required, and no cost attached.

Final words are with Smog:

Turn around, turn around, turn around

and you may come full circle

and be new here again.

Selected reference

Blake, W. (1794). London. Retrieved January 18, 2014 from http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172929

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