Apologies to you, dear reader, for another extended absence. But it was a bad month. A shocking unexpected very first self-harming episode, roller coaster emotional trips (from ecstatic erotic elation running through every pore of our bodies, to the black core of human darkness pitching us into extreme depression and continuous self-doubt), sliver blade gut wounds, overseas heart shredding, bone breaking binge bicycle rides.. not stuff you want to experience. Not stuff we wanted to experience either. L'amour fou will chew you up and spit you out like so much unwanted Wrigleys Extra. But what can you do? You persevere, you endure... You move on. Or you try. We've all been there... things change, they adapt, they get better... just like this building on the Navan Road. Of course we wouldnt dare claim credit for the building being fenced off, its windows properly boarded up and the overgrown jungle of a garden out the back being churned up and turned into a manageable space... but it would be nice to dream we had something to do with it, regardless of miniscule readership. No idea what's being done with it, a lot of work seems to have happened within a short space of time and then nothing again in recent days. Again these pix are from the mobile but in the course of the move from the burbs to the core, the piece of shit digital camera seems to have gone walkies and we're reduced to the grim washed out pixels of the nokia.. no fucking Leica thats for sure. But you get the general idea. Not everything has to be aesthetically pure for you to appreciate the essential essence of its being, or the transformation of it. Does it..? If it does, then we're all fucked...
