Signature: Booterstown

I love paint spills on concrete, the way they can pull a landscape together. I was attracted initially by the big colourful graffiti on this wall bordering the Booterstown bird sanctuary: those bubble-letters, so ubiquitous they're a kind of institutional wallpaper. Then I found these marks, spills of white lightning, the kind of accidental signs I am always on the lookout for. Freezing. After ten minutes or so my hands were turning to stone. I noticed the mountains in the distance dusted with snow; considered driving up there to see what the winter was up to, but the light was going fast now.