Broken Hill and Back

Yes, for 6 days, just got back yesty. Staying with Jonet's gracious sister Kari, to whom, thanks.



'S a Good Town, BH, in many ways - fiercely proud of its history and heritage, which are more than half its raison d'etre. It's still very much a people-run town, well apart from the Mine itself. If the people hadn't hung in the way they have, I supposed the Mine Management would now have very few people in the town and run it more economically . . . But . . . there, there . . .



I revisited a Man I Met There, Todd Murphy, he runs a part-time-only photographic art shop in BH called Outback Images, you can find him I'm sure. Big photos of outback scenes, but artier stuff too. He is a noted poet too, and he likes my work a lot . . . He reckons I should do a big careful version of one of my tessellations, Aussie Rules OK?! , which comprises AFL footballers running in opposite directions (each almost in reach of one of those Magic Footballs I talked about in a previous blog also named Aussie Rules OK?!) Yeah, Todd says I need to do a big classy version of that design, with all the AFL teams' colours represented in the running players. Lots of work if I do try to do it, and anyway, will the AFL or anybody else be interested anyway?



From the train, counting each way, I saw about a dozen Kangaroos, and a score or so of Emus . . . Good to see even them, you wonder how they can survive, the country is so degraded it makes me weep inside. Bare hard sand, stripped even of its former at-the-least saltbush cover, heare and there dead little trees, topsoil gone . . . It's a disgrace, and it makes me ashamed.