Dublin has some pretty lit (can I say that?) street art. I’m sure I’ve hardly even begun to even scratch the surface with these Temple Bar samplings I’ve gathered here but I will continue to photograph! It will be an exhibit! It will be someone’s thesis one day! I AM the mysterious JR! (No, I straight-up looked like an Insta-hamming tourist wandering around, wielding my iPhone).
I learned in Paris that street art is a lot more than just "graffiti," in the negative connotation sense of the word. It typically has historical, political, or artistic associations. Sometimes all three. (But if it's just a picture of a dick near a high school, it's probably just graffiti). Anyway, I keep passing by this painting with the name Molly Ulysses so I eventually gave it a google.
If I had educated myself even slightly in the works of James Joyce before coming here, I would have known that Molly Bloom is a prominent character in James Joyce's Ulysses. And this particular piece (by James Earley) is painted on a place called Blooms Hotel. So, naturally.
Apparently, Molly Bloom delivers an infamous, highly-analyzed soliloquy which, not gonna lie, will probably the most of Ulysses I attempt to read. But I felt a kinship with her words and am now thinking she would be a sneaky literary pretension for a Twitter handle...