I have never felt less like blogging. The Christmas Spirit has taken a firm hold and I'm happy to stay
indoors, scoffing mincepies and putting up the decorations. Decking the Halls is serious work
hereabouts and we went to the first carol service of the season on Saturday night.
An hour's drive out into the wilds of Wicklow was very worth the effort and a proper appraisal
will be pulled together in time. The way into the church was lit by candles in old lanterns.
It was a moment straight out of the sisters Brontë.
We wandered over to the photography exhibition from New York at Imma yesterday afternoon.
Everybody is raving about it and even though there is a modest entrance fee, which includes a
finely printed broadsheet catalogue, it is possible to go on Fridays for free.
I'll certainly be going back.
Funnily enough I came out encouraged that my own photography is
not to be sneezed at and somehow the spirit of the exhibition
lingered on in the scenes in the Baroque Garden beside the gallery.
Dublin and New York actually have quite a lot in common,
if you do not count the height of the skyline....