Coming home after work this evening I really wanted to take some photograph to go home and work on tonight, not that I don’t have other work piled up and so many books screaming to be read – but I had this vicious urge to capture something.
Walking by Shoreditch and Hoxton in London, I am privy to all kinds of graffiti art and occasional instances where vandalism has actually manifested itself rather intrinsically into some kind of befuddling piece of artwork. I have seen most of these pubs and graffiti walls day in and day out and they have become such a cliché that there is nothing alluring in them anymore – graffiti was not what I was looking for tonight.
But, walking by a pub I saw a man in a shirt walking up and down talking to his phone, he was far off and his shirt was nothing special – until I saw the obviously accidental colour coordination between his shirt and the wall nearby, he was walking nowhere near the wall and hence the significance I saw in this simple shirt was fast diminishing. Until he began to walk near it, I followed him in several directions at the possible risk of getting beaten up trying to get the best possibly shot and this is what it resulted in.