Have I ever told you just how varied Parisian street art can be? From simple spray can graffiti variety to stencils to truly thought-provoking pieces, they never cease to amaze me. And there are a lot more street arts that I haven’t yet spotted so far.

I term this Alice-in-Wonderland-esque as “Blown away” and if anything, it reminds me much of Ireland, where windy days are not rare and nobody even bat an eyelid at “inside out” mushroom umbrella. Some day, on Grafton St, there is even a street artist/mimer there who stands at his spot with tie blowing away from him face and him struggling with his weather-sensitive umbrella. I may have his photo somewhere – if I find it, I’ll update this post accordingly.

This sign was spotted by Herbert Park. Someone has been getting creative while tampering with the sign, and what was meant to be the disc machine (for parking discs) is now a disco machine. Might the effect be better had the “o” also came in the size as all other letters rather than being the stuck-in-the-middle-red-ring?

However, this sign is not quite as amusing and clever as another I saw a couple of years back at Wellington Place nearby. Someone has transformed the “children crossing” sign to a grim reaper leading a child across the road, by adding a pointy hoody and a scythe. And it was nearly Halloween then. How apt :D

Passing by the area yesterday (George’s Street Arcade is flanked by both George’s Street and Drury Street) these colourful street art caught my eyes but in the miserably wet and grey weather, the vibrancy of the colour and form is just not that quite same as today, when the sun comes out to play for a little while.

I know I have been photographing mainly the southside of Dublin city for Project 365, and am considering venturing more often across River Liffey for variations, or perhaps to go to the suburbs areas such as Howth and Dun Laoghaire. If only it would rain a little less without the wind of 50km/h… I don’t fancy getting blown off the coastal areas into the sea!

I flew in to Paris this morning for a short 48 hours trip. As a thick layer of cloud shrouded the sky (the view during the flight was very impressive) over north of France, it was inevitably a grey and coooold day in Paris. Nonetheless, I find myself on a stroll around the Latin Quarter for a couple of hours in the evening before heading to Anne’s for dinner.

I’ve barely crossed the road from Place St Michel towards rue St André-des-Arts when this trompe-l’œil materialised before my eyes. The hues matched so beautifully, yet the painted reflection of the window revealed a season that is definitely not winter. Afterall, the trees outside are currently pretty bare. I should revisit in a few months for a follow up photo.

I’ve found a sister graffiti to Kindness!

A stroll along the Grand Canal has always been lovely, from spotting swans and mallards further inland (towards the direction of Ranelagh/Portobello and beyond), to studying the gates system that controls the water level (near Leeson Street), to pondering food options (lunchtime market on Thursdays, the docked La Peniche, restaurants flanking the sides) and now, with a bit of philosophy thrown into the mix.

Reading this reminds me of an unkind remark that I uttered a couple of years back. I lashed out in a moment of frustration and anger. As soon as the words flew out my mouth, I berated myself over it. This behaviour was (and still is) inexcusable and that one sentence caused much hurt and damage. My apologies haven’t quite yet mend the bridge as I’d hope for. If only I’ve held my fraying temper tighter…

Modern city life can be very impersonal. Add rat race to the equation and now, not only we can easily dismiss things that are irrelevant to us, we also often forget what is it to be kind to someone who crosses our path whom we don’t know and whom we may never meet again after that chance encounter.

This message, seen on Dame Court today, is a gentle reminder that I should always care. Kindness comes from the heart, is sincere, freely bestowed, and ultimately, there should be no expectations. Acts of kindness by others taught me to be kind in return. There is no place in society for excess selfishness.

Kindness can be as simple as a bus driver who waits for a passenger who is rushing to catch the bus but haven’t quite yet make it to the stop; a traveller offering a fellow traveller the use of mobile phone to tell his/her loved ones that his/her flight has been delayed; a passerby buying a hot cup of tea and some sandwiches for the homeless man huddling at the corner of the stairs; a worker extending invitation to a new colleague to join him/her for lunch at the canteen; a flash mob entertaining weary crowd and lifting their moods (let’s for a moment forget about the publicity value of this effort).

Each time I walk past the locked gate that leads to the courtyard of Wexford Arts Centre, I’ve been piqued with curiosity over the painted walls. Were they specifically painted, or were they the works of artistic vandals (which the Arts Centre then decided not to remove, since street art is still a form of art)?

I must admit, I can’t quite recall when I last went to the Arts Centre. Must be a good 10 or so years ago, when my friends were involved in a local theatre production. I can only imagine changes that it has underwent over the years. I should go pay it a visit some time soon.