Slowly, I'm getting together all the photos from my travels, I've still got about 4 or 5 rolls of film to develop, so when all the photo's are in the same place at the same time I'll feel a little bit closer to completing my set task.

Just under 8000 is a rough estimate of the amount of photos sitting in the folders from 6 months and 4 days of my life, but it shouldn't be too hard to sift through the rest of the crap I haven't.

I've had a Blogspot for some time now, and I made one post, then left it with neglect until just now.

I think I'll start updating it regularly with the work I do when I'm out and about, and maybe even some of my traditional work.

For anyone who cares, the blog's waiting for you one click away!

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I'm tired as hell, and my ears are dead from swallowing a full blast of instrumental-sound-making hoo-ha.

If that makes any sense.

What started out as a fucking train-wreck of a night, as the band I play in had a gig at The Rosemount Hotel as part of the Emergenza [link] competition, the catch being that the frontman vocalist/guitarist didn't make an appearance because he was playing Warcraft, I mean, sick(some rockstar); actually turned out ok.

Regardless of the fact that we'd had 4, barely 5 jam sessions since I got back from my travels and was practically thrown in the deep end to learn new songs, and then to only have a bassist, keyboardist and myself behind those big round things going boom-chicka-boom-clack with a pair of chop sticks to fill the void made it a bit harder, but we ended up with the 50/50 odds along with 3 other bands of making it into the semi-finals in November.

Which, blatantly gives us a bit longer than 5 practice sessions to tighten our set.

But, I never know where I may be in 6 months time so we'll see.

There's no such thing as a road when you're flying 34,000 feet above land, no such things as tracks either, I guess my one and only experience with the Indian Pacific train straight across the Nullabor was enough not to tempt me again.

I got back to Perth just after 6 o'clock this evening, bringing my absence to an end of 6 months and four days.

I had an amazing time, and I feel as though I've earnt my right to bathe in youthful wisdom for a number of different things.

Which leads me to my most recent achievement.

Whilst I was in Melbourne, being the money-tight-arse I am, I learnt how to save a shit-load of money on public transport.

I mean a shit-load. If I HONESTLY paid for all of my public transport tickets I'd be down hundreds of dollars.

They way I saved my dough, was basically a game of luck, but I was also pretty sharp when it came to spotting the 'Tram Authority/Guards' or ticket-checking-dudes. My techniques got sharper as I started to realise how I could weasel my way out of paying, starting with actually getting sick of paying a $3.70 minimum fare within my first few days in Melbourne, which morphed into standing next to the ticket machine and if I saw a guard that was about to board the tram I'd buy my ticket, which morphed into pre-buying a metcard that only works once you validate it in one of the machines on the tram(Still keeping the watchout for tram guards), which again, after realising the metcards true potential;

- Morphed into pre-buying a Metcard, bending the card in half over the barcode just after I get it, and then not giving a damn about the guards, and playing it cool...aka lying through my teeth when they inspect my damaged ticket and write me up a replacement instead of a fine.

My best span of time with only buying one $3.70 ticket, and going somewhere on a tram almost everyday, was 5 weeks!!

So thank you METLINK!!!!

Note: Only try this little stunt for yourself if you can be cunning and persuasive. I had a few near-misses with the guards, so stay on-the-ball.

So basically, I'm home now, and I'm gonna take my time to get back to things.

And if you're wondering about photos, I've got something planned and articulating.

Walking down Brighton rd. here in Melbourne, after going for a walk to Balaclava, I was in awe as I stood with my eyes fixed upon a old and large electronic organ, sitting on the curbside grass, free of ownership and open to the weather.

I was confused, you could say, as I was mulling over the idea of hauling the big son of bitch back to my pad in the hope that it would actually work.

I checked out all the cords and wires and everything seemed intact.

I gave it another couple of minutes thought, in which the devil on my shoulder said 'It's free, man, just take it, who cares if it's heavy and will take you ages to get home by yourself.'

So I streamed home, dropped off my bags and went back. It was about five hundred metres from my place, and was too heavy to carry, so I decided i'd swivel it, end by end until I was home, or a by-stander felt guilty enough to actually help me.

As luck had it, the street waste collection truck rocked up to pick up the rubbish that was around the organ, and was going to include. He got out and saw me slowly moving the beast, six swivels in to the big five-hundred stretch.

"How far ya takin' that?"

- "Just to one of the streets around the corner."

He came over and checked out the organ for himself, and questioned whether it'll actually work as the back board was off, revealing the interior.

"We'll chuck it in the back of the truck and i'll take it around there for ya, it just depends whether you wanna chance it, otherwise it'll get crushed up."

My willpower was at a high.

Into the back of the truck it went, leaning on the back wall of the scoop that crushes the rubbish.

When we got back it had fallen face first down into the scoop, but we pulled it out anyway.

It stayed down the bottom of the stairs to the apartment for a couple of hours before I got a chance to test if it worked with an extension cord borrowed from a man down stairs.

We plugged it in and flicked the switch, striking a couple of keys the notes bellowed from the speaker in the bottom.

I managed to save this old timer from the imminent death he was about to recieve.

The soldier lives on. Consuming 1/5th of the apartment space.

Check out the links below to see what it looks like

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I was originally going to post a journal about my trip to Tasmania, but half way through writing it I just couldn't be bothered, and I realised it wouldn't do the beautiful place much justice. Instead this recent advertisement explains more than I ever could - [link]

I'm back in Melbourne now, contemplating whether to get a job or do a short course in something-or-other until early April/Easter time when myself and a few others head up to Brisbane/Byron Bay for the East Coast Blues n' Roots festival.

If you get a chance to go, or already have it planned, IT IS A MUST that you go and see my friend Grace Woodroofe open for Ben Harper and his new band on the 11th and 13th of April! [link] I'll be down the front at the barrier on the 13th sporting my D.I.Y Grace Woodroofe shirt, so watch out.

I've survived over 4 months without editing a single photo, it feels liberating to spend so much time shooting without editing, but not to worry, my brother has mustered up a bootleg copy of Photoshop to mail to me so I can get back into it!

- BR