Rather than pass comment on what films I watched yesterday (the end of the great Carlito's Way, 1408 in all its underwhelming entirety), and my continued online antics on FIFA 09 (Derry City aren't bad at all), I'm finally kick-starting this long-held idea for a series. It's all in the name: Belfast City through the eyes of Ian. Some snaps may be accompanied by text, some (like the one above) speak for themselves. Not that it'll stop me commenting.
I'll not say Belfast is short on writers, but - on this evidence - it's easy to feel alone. Ideas on what the symbolic significance of those dumpsters might be are welcome below. Alone, incidentally, isn't something I'd recommend being in Garfield Street come nightfall. Sure, it's got a cuddly name, and it's just off Royal Avenue, mere seconds away from some of the most trafficed areas in the city centre. But what lurks in this shaded enclave post shutter-time is best left unknown. Or so I was told around the time I frequented it on the way home from work. Yeah, I'm "hard."*
That's St. Anne's Cathedral (Church of Ireland) looking resplendent as ever, in the distant Donegall Street. As for the graffiti, if you hope it's Teenage Mutant Ninja Aliens, you're not alone.
*Not like that.
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