The National Mask

Ah, that time of the year again. I met Slant as usual and we drove in and found parking in the place behind College of Surgeons. I had been out the previous night with Pat and Chris and was a bit hungover (like most of Dublin) so not really in the mood for wading into the blarney boorishness of Hug-A-Leprechaun Day. But as we made our way down South William Street I got into the groove. A camera is a dislocation device which, oddly, locates you. And when we arrived at Suffolk Street/Dame Street and I saw this boy's sprayed back I abandoned my takeaway Insomnia Americano for the rush of photo-ops. This is what it's all about, the one day in the calendar when crowds are letting the mask slip by donning a universal mask of faux national pride. Not that many really believe in it. It's just there: a vehicle parked at our very door, so hey, why not? We all have a little bit of theatre in us, or panto anyway.

The light was good, nice and grey, no glare or black shadows to contend with, but I still managed to fuck up hundreds of shots: even after all this time I am far too fumbling, not nearly quick enough on the draw for my chosen mode, street photography. Nevertheless, there were some nice dreamy little moments, such as the child staring out the green-painted window of MacDonanlds on O'Connell Street or the shy lad with his irrepressible girlfriend on the Central Bank Plaza.

More HERE if anyone's interested.