The houses glow in the winter light before dusk falls and the street grows sombre. At this time on a winter evening in Dublin, I am reminded of the scene conjured up by James Joyce in the opening paragraphs of his short story 'Araby' in the book Dubliners describing the last light on a winter evening. Those who know their Joyce will know this is not an exact quote.
This picture is now available in a wooden frame 24cm x 24cm. Printed on archive paper with pigment inks and will maintain its colour for 50years.