Recoleta

A few years ago I went traveling (an extended holiday) to South America and I've probably mentioned it at least five times every week ever since.

I'm aware that there are few things more irritating than some chucklehead rambling on about their Gap Yah so I'm not going to do that. Wait, I'm not going to do that now. Although I will almost definitely mention it a bunch more times in future posts seeing as I've broken the seal.

But I will say that besides the rose-tinted memories and swashbuckling stories of adventure that I've told so many times I can no longer remember which parts are embellished and which really happened, the trip left me with the following legacy - an overdraft that was three pounds seventy-five away from its limit; no job; nowhere to live; and hundreds and hundreds of photos that I've been able to use as source images for backgrounds for the last three years or so. This is one of those photos.

It's Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires, Argentina (what, you've never been?) I'm sure that I read a quote by Borges saying that it is the most exclusive place to get into in the whole of the city. Like a Club 33 for dead Argentinians. Eva Perón is entombed there and the whole place is overrun with stray cats.

So this was the second image I used in the 'Twelve' show that I was a part of in Falmouth the other week along with the flattering picture of my brother below. I intended to post some pictures of the show here, but I haven't. Because I'm very very lazy. But, I guess, maybe I will?

Postscript - I totally missed a trick by not doing a portrait of Walter White this week. What with this whole crazy internet explosion of bandwaggonry I could have made some serious bank.

But honestly though, that show was crazy-good. I suppose I'll just wait until no-one cares about it anymore before I make my contribution to the over-saturated pool of Heisenberg fan-art. Yeah, that's more my style.