I don’t actually go for the Rabbitohs, but I often run past their club house. The phrase ‘Expect nothing, blame no one, do something’ is written on the side of the grand stand at Redfern park. I find it inspiring after about 10 laps. I’m still unsure as to why I did this poster though. 

I don’t actually go for the Rabbitohs, but I often run past their club house. The phrase ‘Expect nothing, blame no one, do something’ is written on the side of the grand stand at Redfern park. I find it inspiring after about 10 laps. I’m still unsure as to why I did this poster though. 

I came here to thank you for following me and also to say that I was intrigued to find a blog such as this. It definitely looks interesting and I dunno, in a way, seeing this is very nostalgic! Especially as I see bicycles reminds me a lot of my childhood. In a way, it makes this blog of yours seem -for a lack of a better word- very endearing! — Asked by raruraru

Thank you so much! I’m glad you like it. I look forward to seeing more of your stuff.

Adam.

Thanks for your follow ! :) Actually I was thinking no one would really care when I blog posts lol until you followed me, you've made my day! — Asked by sapphiriansap

My pleasure, you’re blog is great!

Getting nostalgic.

For this project I have a vivid picture in my head. I dare not go into the finer details for fear that the finished product will differ from my foretelling. It’s a little nerve-racking come to think of it, attempting something that I have not before, on a public forum for all of my friends to see and scrutinise. It’s in instances such as these I employ a particular life strategy of mine, that is to pretend that no one is watching. I find I’m often inclined to sport a far more valorous and undignified disposition in the absence of others. I’m sure you can relate.

Since I can remember, I have had an infatuation with metal and leather (?!). They are substances that compliment one another thoroughly. The textures, the colours, even the scent of the two materials combined is a distinctly appealing aroma.

When I was a boy, my dad took a trip to New Zealand (Dad and I were born in New Zealand and consequently we have a bevy of relatives over there) I think it was to attend my grandmothers funeral. As much as it was always a sad time when dad went away, there was no denying the excitement experienced when imagining what sort of gifts he would bear upon his return. When Dad arrived home from this particular voyage, he bestow upon me one of my favourite possessions, a pocket knife. Upon further inspection now that years have passed, and some form of discernment has been acquired, I realise that the knife is cheap and not of the finest quality, but I adored it then and I adore it now. Some time later I decided that I would require a leather pouch so that I could carry the knife on my hip, just like a bush ranger, or batman.

One sunny Queensland morning, whilst embarking on a family venture into the calamity of a weekend, rural flea market, my parents stumbled upon a leathersmiths stall. He sold prefabricated items as well as taking custom orders for leather contraptions of all varieties. At this stall my folks purchased leather belts for my brother and I, as well as a leather wristwatch protector and…a much desired leather pouch for my pocketknife. I deem this one of my more treasured family outings, the fact that I remember it so vividly is testimony to this.

Few childhood toys and possessions stand the test of time. Most decay, discretely disappear into insignificance or get lost in the process of family relocations or play dates. My pocket knife and pouch however are still with me, even to this day. These objects carry a memory and encompass my preference of real, tangible and organic ‘things’.

There you have it, a brief and perhaps unnecessary explanation for my desire to see this bike reduced to two of my favourite materials. Metal and leather.


No apology necessary, we seem to have a lot in common! Get me started on music & we could be here a while so I thought I should stop myself there! Looking forward to following your tumbles & make sure you check out GoodGod :) — Asked by papawasa

It would certainly appear so! I’m STILL exploring your blog. So, much, awesome music…Judging by what I see on the Goodgod website, I think I’ll be making regular visits!

Every now & again I will have an intense bout of homesickness. This morning was a time such as this. Home for me is Moonbi, a small village consisting of about 350 people, nestled at the foot of the New England ranges in northern NSW. In January I took some holidays and spent a week on my folk’s farm.  Out on the farm we have a bevy of vintage cycles, these have been collected over the years by my dad and brothers. Pictured above is a little treasure that I took for a cruise down to the river, for a spot of fishing. On this particular occasion I caught no fish, I did however snap a shot of a beautiful bike in a beautiful place. This photo is taken just around the corner from the farm. I recall coming around a sweeping bend through a tunnel of towering gum trees, only to be arrested by this breathtaking sight. Naturally, I took photo. Thank God for iPhones.

Every now & again I will have an intense bout of homesickness. This morning was a time such as this.

Home for me is Moonbi, a small village consisting of about 350 people, nestled at the foot of the New England ranges in northern NSW. In January I took some holidays and spent a week on my folk’s farm.  Out on the farm we have a bevy of vintage cycles, these have been collected over the years by my dad and brothers. Pictured above is a little treasure that I took for a cruise down to the river, for a spot of fishing. On this particular occasion I caught no fish, I did however snap a shot of a beautiful bike in a beautiful place.

This photo is taken just around the corner from the farm. I recall coming around a sweeping bend through a tunnel of towering gum trees, only to be arrested by this breathtaking sight. Naturally, I took photo. Thank God for iPhones.

Might just be me but tumblr won't let me reply to your reply! But yes, really great bands - definitely get a hold of Other Lives new album "Tamer Animals" when it comes out, really beautiful. & yes, I am indeed a Sydney gal - I try to see shows as often as I can manage. OAF & Good God Small Club are fave venues of mine. Any musical recommendations for me? — Asked by papawasa

Hah, yes tumblr is by no means conducive to dialogue! Good God Small Club, never heard of it before? I don’t get out near enough though, I’m still trying to get the hang of this city. You seem like the kind of person to whom musical recommendations would be futile! However, I’m enjoying William Fitzsimmons – Gold in the shadows & Augustana’s new album. How good was Dallas Green at the Enmore?!

.01 SUPERB About 2 months ago on a lazy Saturday morning I was walking the streets of Redfern. Having recently moved into the area I was still getting my bearings, exploring streets and alleyways, cracks and crevices, in search of fine coffee,’ cheap food, interesting people and places.. I had been fascinated by the suburb for some time, drawn by the stigma surrounding it and the history it holds. After convincing my housemates to move to such a treacherous place and enduring the tedious task that is moving, It was neat to be able to call it ‘home’, to begin the process of getting acquainted and comfortable. On this particular day I had spent a significant amount of time perusing a second hand goods store, it was the sort of establishment that is a little bit like a store, a lot like somebodies house but mostly like a massive pile of hand me downs, items that were considered by their previous owners as worthless. The elderly man who owns the store (I still visit it regularly) is a flamboyant salesman and will gladly give you a detailed history of any item you happen to glance at. I had found a basket of sun glasses amongst the rubble and was lucky enough to get a pair of vintage ray bans for $10. It’s a special kind of feeling when one stumbles across such a bargain. I remember at the time, trying to conceal my joy with scornful reservation as though $10 was an exorbitant price. After venturing far beyond where I had intended, I decided I would gather the bevy of goodies I had acquired at the OP-shop and call it a day. I juggled the various items delicately and began peddling awkwardly up the busy street, still in bargain hunting mode my eyes fell upon something interesting sprawled out upon the footpath, at first I saw a bike, then what appeared to be a very old vintage fan, then another bike. All of the items were thickly coated in dust and nestled among other items of trash, milk crates, empty cardboard boxes and beer bottles. If it weren’t for this I may have assumed that the bikes belonged to patrons of a nearby cafe. Moving closer for further inspection, I glanced around nervously, still unsure as to whether or not the items were trash or treasure. I felt heavy glares from snooty cafe dwellers sipping lattes and reading lifestyle magazines. As I sheepishly assessed the goods, a man in an electric wheelchair glided up beside me, I had seen him around before, in fact one of my housemates may, or may not have had a slight verbal altercation with him at a certain pedestrian crossing one evening, I will not expound on this matter just now, in the interest of housemate confidentiality. The man gruffly exclaimed something incoherent (he had what I interpreted to be a thick Jamaican accent), for a moment I was sure that he was there to contend for the loot, but after a disjointed and frustrating conversation it became apparent that he was a divine being of some sort and that he simply wanted me to be aware of this. It was just as well, even at this early stage I had become possessive of the acquisition. Who knows what i would have done if he were to challenge me. Considering these things, I was experiencing the sensation perhaps best described as embarrassment; thankfully my desire to possess this posse of goodies surpassed the feelings of shame experienced when one pillages sidewalk bounties such as these. To make a long story slightly shorter, moments later I was walking the main street of Redfern carrying far more than any human should. I had two bikes, old, warn, used, stained and seasoned. Where had they been? How had they arrived in such a ruinous situation. Had they been superseded by more technologically advanced vehicles, constructions of carbon fibre and advanced plastics? Had their previous owners lost the desire for cycling or furthermore, physical activities in general? Whatever the case may be, I now had the opportunity to give them a second lease on life. The journey of these bicycles will remain a mystery to you and I, perhaps this is the best thing about owning something old, it releases us to dream and wonder. I like imagine these bikes have seen the world, whizzed through grimy suburban streets, conquered rolling hills of the countryside. I imagine they have known sweat and blood, rain and shine, heat and the cold, scorn and delight. I imagine that their journey is far from ending but rather just beginning.

.01 SUPERB
About 2 months ago on a lazy Saturday morning I was walking the streets of Redfern. Having recently moved into the area I was still getting my bearings, exploring streets and alleyways, cracks and crevices, in search of fine coffee,’ cheap food, interesting people and places.. I had been fascinated by the suburb for some time, drawn by the stigma surrounding it and the history it holds. After convincing my housemates to move to such a treacherous place and enduring the tedious task that is moving, It was neat to be able to call it ‘home’, to begin the process of getting acquainted and comfortable.

On this particular day I had spent a significant amount of time perusing a second hand goods store, it was the sort of establishment that is a little bit like a store, a lot like somebodies house but mostly like a massive pile of hand me downs, items that were considered by their previous owners as worthless. The elderly man who owns the store (I still visit it regularly) is a flamboyant salesman and will gladly give you a detailed history of any item you happen to glance at. I had found a basket of sun glasses amongst the rubble and was lucky enough to get a pair of vintage ray bans for $10. It’s a special kind of feeling when one stumbles across such a bargain. I remember at the time, trying to conceal my joy with scornful reservation as though $10 was an exorbitant price.

After venturing far beyond where I had intended, I decided I would gather the bevy of goodies I had acquired at the OP-shop and call it a day. I juggled the various items delicately and began peddling awkwardly up the busy street, still in bargain hunting mode my eyes fell upon something interesting sprawled out upon the footpath, at first I saw a bike, then what appeared to be a very old vintage fan, then another bike. All of the items were thickly coated in dust and nestled among other items of trash, milk crates, empty cardboard boxes and beer bottles. If it weren’t for this I may have assumed that the bikes belonged to patrons of a nearby cafe.

Moving closer for further inspection, I glanced around nervously, still unsure as to whether or not the items were trash or treasure. I felt heavy glares from snooty cafe dwellers sipping lattes and reading lifestyle magazines. As I sheepishly assessed the goods, a man in an electric wheelchair glided up beside me, I had seen him around before, in fact one of my housemates may, or may not have had a slight verbal altercation with him at a certain pedestrian crossing one evening, I will not expound on this matter just now, in the interest of housemate confidentiality. The man gruffly exclaimed something incoherent (he had what I interpreted to be a thick Jamaican accent), for a moment I was sure that he was there to contend for the loot, but after a disjointed and frustrating conversation it became apparent that he was a divine being of some sort and that he simply wanted me to be aware of this. It was just as well, even at this early stage I had become possessive of the acquisition. Who knows what i would have done if he were to challenge me. Considering these things, I was experiencing the sensation perhaps best described as embarrassment; thankfully my desire to possess this posse of goodies surpassed the feelings of shame experienced when one pillages sidewalk bounties such as these.

To make a long story slightly shorter, moments later I was walking the main street of Redfern carrying far more than any human should. I had two bikes, old, warn, used, stained and seasoned. Where had they been? How had they arrived in such a ruinous situation. Had they been superseded by more technologically advanced vehicles, constructions of carbon fibre and advanced plastics? Had their previous owners lost the desire for cycling or furthermore, physical activities in general? Whatever the case may be, I now had the opportunity to give them a second lease on life. The journey of these bicycles will remain a mystery to you and I, perhaps this is the best thing about owning something old, it releases us to dream and wonder. I like imagine these bikes have seen the world, whizzed through grimy suburban streets, conquered rolling hills of the countryside. I imagine they have known sweat and blood, rain and shine, heat and the cold, scorn and delight. I imagine that their journey is far from ending but rather just beginning.