It’s only when you get there that the reverence for what they love hits home, the flag a simple symbol of what any country stands up for, I think of Palestine or the difference between North and South in Ireland make more sense attached to the top of a bonfire than around the shoulders of an Italian football supporter standing in the smoke of a flared stadium. The flag of America is different. I was in Philadelphia to see balloons and flags, It makes me happy to take photos of balloons and flags, I don’t know why, I just think they’re striking and represent so much fake happiness and do such a job in convincing people that much of this happiness exists but it actually doesn’t, well it does but momentarily, sort of in a flash.

The balloon with such herald and promise, if it doesn’t have helium or that silver glaze seems to be actually the opposite of delirium and more realistically whispers “Here listen, what you thought was discounted inside is full price” so although nostalgic and floating away into a sky day with some child weeping sadly, it’s all talk and no walk with balloons I feel.

Although being wary of comparing flags and balloons, flags are much laden down, history and blood in most cases hard to ignore they have such meaning, the colours they pick stand alone and say so much more about why a country, especially America, exists. What happened in the process of that journey to existence? a flag seems to ask for reverence. I see a flag in America and well up, odd seeing as I’m Irish and will never probably gain residency in the states [I'd love to be an Ice Road Trucker though] so to see a flag in America is like the highest reminder that you’re in a place that fought tooth and nail to get those stars and stripes and also the freedom to buy fast food at regular intervals co-incidentally where they display numerous balloons. The flag does so much Balloons say so much too but theres an anti climax – Sorry but It’s balloons or flags for me these cold walking days. What else is there?

My blind my eye can cry
Which day burns truth and lies
For time and bind again
It’s me and you the ties.

Honestly, say it honestly and be straight be trustworthy in all of the selfishness to be kind enough to learn from those others you mightn’t get on with but yet learn off. Do it straight and true and somehow it’ll give.

Reblogged from Stay Calm:

I had an Uncle named Tony who was the head waiter in Wynns hotel on Abbey street on the northside of Dublin city, he was the head man in there through tough times and was let go to much distress, 30 years after he started. I had ice cream there when i made my confirmation, i remember my Planet of the Apes action figures in their plastic boxes from Cleary's toy department, the smile on my dad's face in a blue suit and i think we had a closed restaurant to ourselves in the afternoon, sheer important bliss.

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The suns back in Dublin and how quick the heat defers the moaning / Whining. I start a street art tour on Sunday and the weathers due to be nice, nice.

Sometimes flowers in the right place at the right time can change your day. Simple beauties.

A list of things that happened and more importantly stuff that didnt happen.

Started sleeping better, sleeping earlier, less nightmares and more dreams about mermaids. Those ones you need tokens for

Learnt about double objectives for characters in a scene – subtext and not showing you already know but rather play it like its the first time – every bunjee jump is different – everytime you walk a city it’s changed.

Started taking up contact improv it’s like a mix between falling down and dancing with a French girl – I haven’t had the pleasures of a French girl yet – but I said I wouldn’t take off my shoes to reveal just my socks and I’ve done this

Also like the Chinese I have NO French friends, this is disturbing.

I have only taken this photo in over two weeks apart from some portraits and moving footage which is another weird drop off – its like I can’t cycle anymore.

I’m annoyed at myself that although I know lovely people I don’t necessarily want to have long chats with them risking insult – I feel like I talk too much and I make no sense. Also that I think I’m brilliant and this actually isn’t the case.

Money is dirty – I might start doing things for free.

I had forgotten about how good Chinese food is. On Sunday nights.

Mend bridges – even though they’re made of matchsticks and lies.

I miss Hill 16.

I’d like a Boston Terrier for a pal.
But settle for a king Charles.

Need more soup and juices, mangoes are really worth the effort.

Think it through twice before you mention the word ‘old’ in a sentence when talking to women. About ANYTHING.

Don’t hate the post office. They eventually retire and replace the lazy staff.

I might write another script about a family in the woods who don’t believe their son is an actual ghost.

Water myself.

Read more good books.

Stop looking at girls arses.
Or wishing on a star – they’re extremely far away.

Out the door of a smoke shop I thought it was him drifting in for a pack of marlboro lights, a big black coat with his collars up he sits down outside Simons and the rain comes down, he has a denim wrangler on underneath and leather trousers don’t suit anyone except him, somehow he goes unnoticed on George’s street – its like that in Dublin now you would care less seeing Bono have cake in Coppinger row would’nt you? So what Phil Lynotts having milky tea outside Simons!

“Phil?” looking up he’s a little grumpy “What?” – “I don’t mean to annoy you but did you not think at the height of it all it would have been better to go out in style like Hendrix or Morrison and Joplin?” he’s staring at me like I have two heads “That’s kinda what actually happened but then somehow I’m still here amid all you flutes casting dispersions” he takes a sup of his tea and I try again “But all icons of rock n’ roll fade away right?” – “Yes of course I may have gone up the stairway but I’m here and there on the streets making sure the town doesn’t go completely mad, although I’d never stand that Fender on its arse, who said that was ok?” he’s getting angry now like if I talk anymore someone else will come over and take a pop at him but he goes on “Don’t get me wrong I love this town but things have changed haven’t they? Like we all went to Spain and came back with Spanish accents lookin for sandwiches and olive oil on them what’s wrong with tea and toast in Grogans, eh….pen and paper or I’d rather speak to you on the phone?” I see what he’s talking about, he’s out of the loop a bit, he just became a memory of the city and less it’s hero we turn to “are you still writing Phil?” he drifts off pulling on the last of that cigarette “yes I am but no-one wants songs about thunder in the mountains and poetry,that’s like being a weird uncle”

There’s the distance between how naive we were and now the saturation of a music generation that doesn’t love music but consumes it, then some will say that music has saved their lives but I don’t believe anyone on TV.

Phil would have sadly drifted across our media like a grumpy old Morrissey but at the same time would have probably been right, made sense. He is a hero for ever more and his imprint left a mark that helped our identity and much like Rory Gallagher or Luke Kelly gave us Irish the permission to be more reckless and legendary, don’t forget we’re still looking for the way forward even though thousands of years of music go by and even though he’s gone and distant we could still do with his view of the world no matter what he would have ended up like. Nothing wrong with straight talk and a bit of madness thrown in, sounds like Geldof actually

Imagine the memory needed to remember it all, I can only recall some early important days, I can’t stuff all those lost ones in and like those whizzing by leaves and closed eyes, they’ll never be seen by me again.

Tragic loss that! I can’t fix it so like any normal person I breathe out and let it go, that could be the same way the end will arrive to me. And with closing eyes one last time the defocus fades to a long horizontal back and silence, glorious peace and quiet.