“In Brueghel’s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
Bur for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.”
That’s Auden. The picture is by my Mum.
Thanks to a wonderful high school English teacher, as soon as I saw that photo those words came into my head.
When I first came to Sydney I was shocked by the amount of graffiti in public spaces. In fact, I felt a sense of unease whenever I went into an area heavily graffitied, it seemed to indicate that there was some kind of underworld and I it found vaguely threatening.
Now I sit in the back yard and listen to the shake knock shake knock of a spray can and the pfft of paint heading for our back wall. It still gives me a little frisson of excitement knowing there is some stranger out there painting our fence, but now I don’t feel threatened. I go out the next day and photograph it. I then put it on Flickr, submit it to groups and share it with others.