It's funny what you stumble across when you're looking at other things on the internet. How things so often come back to your own life's trail.
Grafiti-artist maestro Banksy used to touch upon a lot of my life in Bristol. Every street seemed to have evidence of his work. And they were individual works of art. They would snap me out of my self-enclosed mental prison; their subversive incisiveness, their occasional sharp beauty, the way they summed up whole ideologies of thinking in one stencilled masterpiece, the way they highlighted the reality of existing in this country of ours. Some intricate, some simple. I've only chanced upon a few Banksies since I've been in London, but after coming across his website I'm burning up on nostalgia.