I still see her in my dreams.
The Killer Granny in the shiny red Micra.

The steely determination with which she ignores all rules of the road known to man. And unknown to granny.
The regularity with which she hits the 6,000 RPM in second gear.
The screams of the 1.1 engine.
The screams of the crushed cyclist.
The screams of terror as I wake up in a sweat.

I still see her in my dreams.
The Killer Granny in the shiny red Micra.

I am the cornered squirrel and she is the cobra.
I am transfixed by so much beauty. Cruel beautiful beauty. Lethal beautiful crimson shiny beauty. Blue-rinsy shiny shiny crimsony blood-thirsty killer beauty.

She chases me. My foot slips on the pedal. She is pedal to the metal. My bike wobbles. The engine screams. And just beneath the scream of the engine I can hear it. And my blood freezes. I can hear it. The Nissanity of her laughter.

I still see her in my dreams.
The Killer Granny in the blood-soaked Micra.

art, dublin, dun laoghaire, ireland, photography, street photography

The Fear 2



Today, for most of the day, I felt like curling into a ball and weeping softly.

I didn’t.





I wept softly while sitting at my desk. I groaned gently too.
And I may also have stifled a few sobs.

More of the same tomorrow I’d expect.

Will this week ever end?

monochrome, dublin, ireland, photography

Always trust your instinct



Between the low-hanging fruits nonsense in the morning and absence of turn-key solutions in the afternoon, I relish my running away from the Mistake Factory at lunchtime to come and read large format art books, when I am not staring dreamily at the bay.

art, dublin, dun laoghaire, ireland, monochrome, photography

Reading room with a view



Have yize got no homes to go to?

The end of a fine night of Guinness and attempting to fix the world.

In O’Loughlin’s, a time capsule that also acts as a working pub.







art, dublin, dun laoghaire, ireland, monochrome, photography, portrait, pub, street photography, tuesdays smell of wet dead pigeons

Time, folks!



(thanks for the ponytail Mimi)

art, dublin, essential parenting implements, ireland, parenting, photography

Zebra crossing



At the end of a quest that had spanned several decades, Dominic had finally found it.
He had located the G spot.
It was nothing to write home about, to be honest.
Still, it was a pity that Fionnuala wasn’t there. Typical of her, she was rooting around in the bargains aisle of Dealz, across the road. She’d only be gone for 5 minutes she had said…
It was supposed to be a special moment for a couple.
According to his mates in the pub.
He had seen them snigger while singing the praise of that elusive, mysterious G spot.

He was now convinced that they had been taking the piss.

That shower of bollixes.

bambi is not happy, bric a crap, dublin, funny, humour, ireland, street photography






I spotted the two cameras slung low on his sides, ready for rapid shooting.

I approached him and asked if he was into street photography.

His name is David.

He is in New York each year on September 11th.

Then he comes to Ireland to “screw his head back on”.

I never really thought of it in this way but you are right David, there are worse places than Ireland to reconnect with reality.

Hope it worked for you this year again, dude. See you next year. You’re welcome.


dublin, ireland, photography, portrait, street photography, tourism, travel

Remembering not to forget