I'm not the only Corkonian to have a love-hate thing for his native city. I think it moves in unpredictable waves between the two poles and though I'm not one for the supernatural I am wondering if it may have something to do with the positioning of the moon. Recently there was a super moon and almost magically the duffel-coat like heaviness I was feeling towards the city shed itself and took on the garb of a real appreciation and respect for city and those that reside within it.
On a sunny November afternoon I took a stroll through the city with my camera. I had been meaning to do it for ages but it had eluded me. I'm leaving Cork again soon and so when I saw the blue sky of the November sunday I grabbed my camera and moved on it. I'm glad I did. That day I spent in the city with eyes wide open watching not just people but places, the landscape and architecture of the city, the alleyways, the little details, re-awoke a dormant love of my city. Cork city is crammed full of diverse characters whom for the most part are honoured to be asked if their picture can be taken. They are full of soul and song and not afraid to expose themselves, warts and all. Everybody that I asked whether I could take their portrait said yes except one... but he was English and full of suspicion...
I only managed to cover a fraction of the city as the two streets of North main street and Shandon street alone kept me busy, I never made it to my favourite street. The spectrum of people here is quite amazing and reminded me of the Irish writer Kevin Barry's novel 'The city of Bohane' though not as dystopian as Barry's fantastical fiction. Immediately I met characters that looked like Protestant preachers from another ere, there were Congolese and Nigerians looking sharp for Sunday service, young revellers weary from the night before, Koreans, older men enjoying their Sunday afternoon sup smoking fags in the doorways, the salt of the earth as they say.
There will be more.