Street Art

home turf

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Back on home turf after my sister’s wedding life goes on.

Vivid Sydney lights up the CBD.

Someone paints decorates the railway overpass walls opposite our apartment with painted watermelon slices but within 48 hours someone else cleans it off.

Someone goes to the touble of tagging their turf, the wall of the building across the road… again.

The G.O. and I have a Saturday sleep in then wander up King Street to Newtown Community Market.

  • I buy kale with a snail freshness guarantee.
  • The G.O. buys unwaxed unsprayed red pears.
  • We buy an assortment of pre-loved books – guess which are whose?
  • I buy a peg bag for Taylors Arm where we have a Hills Hoist clothesline, and a backyard.

We go to the pub for lunch, enroute I find new street art.

The weather refuses to acknowledge the calendar.

“Imagine a city where graffiti wasn’t illegal, a city where everybody could draw whatever they liked. Where every street was awash with a million colours and little phrases. Where standing at a bus stop was never boring. A city that felt like a party where everyone was invited, not just the estate agents and barons of big business. Imagine a city like that and stop leaning against the wall – it’s wet.”
Banksy, Wall and Piece
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