all cities are dirty.
the part of manchester i live in is dirty.
the parts of manchester i walk through everyday are dirty.

i hate to admit it but after a while its easy to stop seeing the dirt, its easy to be that person just throwing your trash on the streets.

yet its also easy to be reminded. sometimes by something as small as seeing someone carelessly and obliviously discard a wrapper from a chocolate bar or sometimes its something as big as spending weeks in a much more beautiful place, with a beautiful person and being receptive to the splendor of nature.

thats partly why i paint on cardboard and things i find in the street.
making something out of nothing.
turning waste into worth.
_{its also cheap! hehe}

dirt, grime, activity, a million different entities going a million different directions with little thought or concern for all the others or for what's around them... counterpointed by a moment of serenity, a inversion of the hectic stresses we call life: a tree doing nothing but growing old.

painted with everything ever on what has served as my desk for the last two semesters.