Never met never parted

I confess that I am at once fatalistic and a sentimental fool. It's the unique result of being the child of a Glaswegian athiest and an Australian pragmatist. My father taught me Wordsworth and Burns (Wee Rabbie), about dwelling beside the springs. My mother taught me realism and flexibility, about living in the moment and getting on with it. So I navigate the transcience of street art with delight and wistful sorrow. It evolves exactly as it should, be it weathered, tagged or taken. It's magic when it does, but I long for what has been...