I love the overlapping lines of this angled row of terrace houses in Parkville. If you look closely, you will see the many decorative heads in the masonry. They all seem to be looking out longingly at the park opposite, wishing they could go for a stroll amongst the greenery.
If you're in Queenscliff on a nice day, I highly recommend wandering into the Vue Grand Hotel, grabbing a drink from the bar, then taking three flights of stairs up to the roof top. There you are treated to a 360 degree view of the town and the surrounding waters. If you're lucky - as
I will never tire of walking the back beach at Queenscliff. This evening it was low tide and the beach was wide and flat. The birds were busy catching dinner, floating on the salty wind as the sun splashed gold on the water and the lighthouse high on the dune.
It's quite the view from the top of Sovereign Hill, with the Poppet Head standing proudly over the Ballarat skyline. I'm looking forward to seeing this view more often as a costumed volunteer (in my pink, ruffled skirt).
I have no idea what the architect intended, but to my eye this is a piano building. I like to imagine there's a piano on every floor and a giant multi-piano work is performed every afternoon. Or maybe a resident pianist in the lift playing up and down all day.
This might be the skinniest house I ever did see. I can't believe I've not noticed it in the 40 years I've been going to Queenscliff. I'm intrigued to know what is behind the red door. Does it open out onto a magical other world?
There is something quite delightful about a flat-backed pot that sits so perfectly against a terracotta wall, sprouting verdant geranium. A little bubble of an Italian streetscape transplanted into a Melbourne suburb.
How cute is this mailbox at the Buninyong Community House? It's a teeny replica of the actual house behind it, with all the little details. The world needs more mailboxes with character like this one.
Artistic design in functional contexts, especially houses, make the mere act of existing so much more agreeable. I happened upon this gorgeous art deco ceiling rose this afternoon in the unassuming house of the acupuncturist. It was a welcome object of study while lying on the table with needles sticking into my head.
It is quite curious that the snaggle-toothed shadow on the window is so uneven. Looking directly at the bricks of my house, they appear quite straight and uniformly laid. The shadow, however, tells a different story. What is going on? Do they right themselves as the day progresses? Are they only wonky in the morning?
