National Portrait Gallery (1/4)

When one thinks of a portrait, head and shoulders usually come to mind. Occasionally, one sees a full-bodied portrait. Traditional portaiture concentrated upon the face. However, I find myself attracted to hands. So during my visit to the Gallery, that is all I photographed. This will not be a guessing competition, though. ABOVE: the hands of Emily Kame Kngwarreye as painted by Jenny Sages Emily (1910-1996) first painted on canvas in 1988. Yes, at the age of 78. She spent her early years working with camels and as a stockhand in the Northern Territory, and as she aged she became an Aboriginal elder in women's ceremonial business. She spent a decade furiously producing luminous modern works based upon "country". BELOW: the hands of Lowitja O'Donoghue (b. 1932) as painted by Robert Hannaford Lowitja was removed from her parents at the age of two, together with all her siblings. She did not see her mother for another 33 years. In that time, she qualified as a nurse, and became an activist for her people and for "The Stolen Generation". She spent most of her life in public service. Astoundingly, the hands show the history.

The National Portrait Gallery in Canberra opened in December 2008.

Body language

Often there is an instant reaction to a stranger - whether in the positive or in the negative. Where do YOU get your information from about people? Is is how they look, or what they say? Or do you have 'cats' whiskers' that pick up more subtle vibes?

Caught red handed

Frollicking on the harbour in 'Radar' a Balmain Heritage ferry, I befriended this old codger and his wife who both had a great sense of humour.


So would I, if I had a hip-flask in my back pocket!


A member of the Weekend Reflections community.

In the palm of his hands

In days gone by, people cupped soil and new growth in the palms of their hands. It was a protective gesture, an encouragment for life to thrive, to continue.

Adults cupped the faces of children in their hands, as a gesture of love, and connection. Embedded in our consciousness, is the upturned face of the next generation receiving the collected wisdom of the ages.

Nowadays, we cup communication devices in the palms of our hands, whether they be mobile phones which are connected to the internet by wireless, or whether they be an i-pod capable of random shuffling thousands of pieces of music for our continual delight. We connect to others through the ether.

A member of the Theme Thursday community.

Hands

Bitten to the tender quick concave convex curves torn straight unable to spring back; forever branded - a scarlet letter.

Hands

These two blokes were packing and weighing apples at Salamanca Markets. They looked a bit like Red Delicious apples.

Hands

Karyl has osteo-arthritis in one hand ...


and rheumatoid arthritis in the other hand.

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Hands

These are the hands of my uncle. For his 90th he absolutely devoured prawns, oysters and red wine.

Switching to autopilot whilst I galivant around southern Tasmania for 10 days, returning Monday 5th October.

Hands

The context was delightful ... and, yes: that is my 88 yo father enjoying himself at his brother's 90th birthday bash.

Hands

Hands

Teacher and metallurgist: the parents of last week's bride.

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Hands

Hands

still no internet at my new place

Hands

Hands

Hands

... Jess giving Bach a burl ...

Sounding the heart

Busking can be a heart-breaking venture: few people listen, fewer people toss coins, and the musician slips into musical compromise.

Hands

Sisters-in-law