Graffiti—to some the challenge of beloved art.
To many, defacement of beloved property. I promised some time ago to get back under that bridge and shoot the whole—
—and here ’tis. And in the words of the Creators: your welcome. Very. Make of it what you will … for myself, it being completely unintrusive (it’s not all that easy to see, let alone reach) I actually like it
I slipped when climbing down to their level—fortunately reflexes still kick in on cue and nothing was damaged, not even my beloved camera. (I guess that sweet wee cherub up aloft is still doing his duty like a good one.)
Finding my way back out I discovered that even here the LCD is still at work, wee mini rubbish dumps all over the place—I got a bit philosophical when I shot this poor guy—
—obviously once beloved of some poor infant but now equally obviously has outlived his purpose. RIP …
And on my way back another philosophical trap—
is it possible to love a boat?
—why not? I loved my most very favouritest ship in my naval years. Bloody thing … so here’s another ex-beloved, thrown aside like a squeezed out toothpaste tube, unloved, unwanted … aaah, but such memories~
~for someone. Bring aft the rum, Darbs!
AND moving on to closure (your welcome~!) an over-the-shoulder shot of Invercargill’s claim to glory:
One Bert Munro Esq, who from the front looks like this—
—and in his time he was the exemplar epitome of the backyard-tinkering truly focussed mechanical genius.
Invercargill’s beloved of all time, I guess …