“When I'm born I'm black, when I grow up I'm black, when I'm in the sun I'm black, when I'm sick I'm black, when I die I'm black, and you... when you're born you're pink, when you grow up you're white, when you're cold you're blue, when you're sick you're blue, when you die you're green and you dare call me colored"― Oglala Lakota”
Does Blue = Black = Yellow = Orange?
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![]() Last week, both Myles and Stair na hÉireann reminded as to the Munich Air Disaster on 6th February, 1958. When in Dublin on Monday, I took a trip to the Liam Whelan Bridge. On my way home, I was contemplating that there were quite a few memorial plaques that I have come across to air crashes and their victims - and I haven't photographed Ahakista - yet. When in Portobello on Monday, I took some photographs of the street art on display.
I have taken photographs of street art in many different locations at many different times. It was the first time that I was able to observe the artist at work. Well done that man.
The daily update from Stair na hÉirinn arrived when I was travelling to Dublin this morning.
It prompted me to take time out at the Royal Canal in Drumcondra to appreciate the sculpture of Brendan Behan who was born today in 1923. I think that Niall Toibin in the Borstal Boy must have been one of the very first plays, as opposed to pantomimes, that I saw in Cork Opera House. The quote from Gearóid Cheast’s book will long live on tap in my memory. Two more reasons for the time-out. I very much like the sculpture – the facial features and the bird. I really liked the engraving of quotes into the seat – but I am a sucker for a sculpted seat. Thank you, John Coll.
I spotted this wall art, close to the Tourist Office, when in Ennis some time ago.
I liked. I still like. My brother went to the Galapagos Islands last year on his holidays. When he returned home at Christmas, he had a postcard which he asked us to deliver, which we hope to do over the next week.
I had, until then, not heard of Post Office Bay. I had definitely never heard of the eighteenth century tradition still continuing whereby one leaves one’s mail in a barrel and it is then picked up by a sailor (or now tourist) returning home. The postcard has taken at least six months to get to Mountshannon, Co. Clare but hopefully it will get there safe and sound - soon. I went for a head shave earlier.
The days of haircuts are now in the past. Haircuts have an implication that one has a choice of style and extent. Now, my only choice is a number – 0, half, or one. I did spot the anomaly in the pricing between the window sign and the hanging sign before I entered but decided it probably better not to say anything at the time. This policy of looking up is proving to be rather productive.
Yesterday, I came across this hopper on the former offices of The Cork Examiner/Irish Examiner, now the Opera Lane Apartments. Not alone do the hoppers note a date (presumably of the completion of the building) but also bears recognition to the King, Edward VII. Having attended some talks at local Historical Societies, there has sometimes been comment as to the anti-Republican commentary in the Cork Examiner at the time of the War of Independence. There has been some counter argument that Victoria Barracks (as then, now Collins Barracks) had some veto on publication. The hopper may provide some assistance to argument for one side of that debate. Regardless, it is a nice hopper. This blog started two years ago. That is two years of looking at signs and buildings in Cork.
On Friday, I learnt again that there can be messages or information in odd locations – yet another hopper with a message. I am still learning.
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