Ahh, December 31st. It’s that time of year when reflection runs rampant. The 365 days have been assessed and judgement has been issued: Well, I won’t do that again.
A random act of street art occurred today in the inner Brisbane suburb of West End.
The city’s high-rise buildings glow. Occupants of the houses and units bordering the park go about their end-of-day rituals – cooking, dressing, transfixed by the television – their own moves framed and illuminated.
I first fell in love with Bougainvillea when I was living in a little workers cottage in the middle of West End.
I may be poor but life is rich.