Sculptures By The Sea

I feel a little about sculpture as I do about poetry. Really good sculpture/poetry is a joy, poor sculpture/poetry is a travesty and should be tossed in the ocean. Today, my bestie had to drop her husband off at the airport at some ungodly hour so at 5am, I hitched a ride and once divested of said husband, we headed out to check out Sculptures By the Sea. A month long exhibition on the Bondi to Tamarama Coastline that surprises, shocks, delights and disappoints. It was 36 in the shade and idiot here wore jeans. The cliff walk was lovely, some of the sculpture erm 'interesting' and the sea inviting . . not quite as inviting as the Gin and Tonic I had for lunch. Enjoy:

Bondi Beach at 8am

No idea but what a view

Looking along the cliff walk to Tamarama

Definitely reminds me of someone I know

I think nature's sculptures were hard to beat

A new meaning to 'grazing' at lunch

Leunig Like

Nice view

Life Boy

Gratuitous Hot Bods

Who snapped me sunbathing?

Car Door Fin

Footprints in the Sand

Snail Trail of Bottle Tops

First My Father Died, Then My Horse (seriously thats what it's called)

New Man, New Woman but it looks like he's pashing his cat

Thank you Sydney Water . . we needed it!

The Sky is Falling

So that's where my Rayban's went

Golden Boy

Paint Splodge

Bound Rocks

 And I don't care what anyone says, the sun here is hotter. A day in the French sunshine and I barely glow . . . six hours in Aussie Sunshine, lathered in sunscreen and I'm  looking like a beetroot.

Thank Goodness for the Sun Police