Show Me The Treasure

It has been my fond misperception that clouds were mostly white. Was it all those early puffs of cotton woolliness daubed on the mid-blue skies of that grainy and forgiving art paper handed round in kindergarten? This turning blueness happened last Sunday afternoon, the harder I looked the bluer nearly all of that which was once white seemed.  What will go next? The grass? The stars?

It has been my fond misperception that clouds were mostly white. Was it all those early puffs of cotton woolliness daubed on the mid-bl...

Cloud-wise the state of about to rain has more vivacity, more variagation, than the uniform water-washed grey of the drizzle or raining kind of sky. Is this presumption too presumptuous? Rain, or so it seems,  brings a kind of anonymity to the sky but  perhaps this overstates the matter and rain only redirects the gaze to more earthy matters.

Cloud-wise the state of about to rain has more vivacity, more variagation, than the uniform water-washed grey of the drizzle or raining ki...

Late Sunday afternoon, coming out of Art Gallery of NSW, a little heady already from a largish dose of images, the whole kaleidoscopic effect of jamming Margaret Olly on top of Sol del Witt, Christo, Simyrn Gill, Jeff Koons  to say just a few, the dizzy orientation of it slightly countered by a soothing visit to the lady polo players of the Tang dynasty, naturally the sky is that ominous state often called louring - or if you prefer lowering.  The illusion here, or, more precisely over on the ridge more usually called Kings Cross, is amplified as it seems the sky, really the clouds, are almost upon the apartments. These clouds though, accumulate both depth and height, filling up a great swathe of sky ( though that term is usually reserved for vegetation, but why not give the clouds the use of it), so the sky is both towering and lowering.

Late Sunday afternoon, coming out of Art Gallery of NSW, a little heady already from a largish dose of images, the whole kaleidosco...