People come and go.

I'm always a bit hesitant about using titles for purely photographical posts. It's not that I don't think photos and words complement each other, because in the right circumstanes they do. It's just that whenever I put words to my photos I usually regret it at a later date. Maybe that's just me. Maybe it's because I'm the kind of person who sees his own artistic efforts as intrinsically cheesy, and as a result I'll probably never produce photos, writing, drawings and paintings even, that represent the inner, deep, organic Lukey.



Arty farty. I've never been into the fart that often accompanies art. And although the fart is not always there in the piece of work itself, it's so easy for one to fart in the appreciation of art. Do you follow? Maybe not. Let's just say that the reason I've never really taken to artistic expression throughout my life as willingly as I might have liked to, is because I've long thought of it as poncey and something that those who are obsessed with themselves do. I know I'm wrong. The above shot was there for the taking. Walking back from MaxValu with groceries in my hands and my camera in my ruck-sack, I went for the kill.



People coming and going.