Instant state of affairs

The first street where I set foot in Dublin was O’Connell Street. I arrived unaccompanied on a typical cold Irish winter evening. Misty and overcast. As soon as I left the bus, coming from the airport, the traffic of buses and the mob of people walking alongside the Liffey left me slightly disoriented with regards to my current location and what direction should I take to get to Abbey Street Upper. I took a few seconds to spot the Heineken building on the other side of the Liffey. I started walking towards the building's opposite side, entering O'Connell Street Lower. In Dublin, you always feel a cold chill in your face when you’re out on the street. This was the first corporeal perception I had about the city. An introduction. All the rest comes after. During wintertime, the night settles very early, almost unannounced. It’s five o’clock, I look outside a window and the lights are fully alive. The gates of Stephen’s Green Park are now closed for passer-by or visitors. Shops will be closing soon too. Traffic is at peak stage. Buses, cars, bicycles proceed from or through Leeson, Baggot and Harcourt street, circulating around the park. People gather around bus stops, waiting for their number to take them home. The sidewalk is now a racing lane for passengers. The bell sound of the Luas, making its notice of departure from Stephen’s Green Station and the hooves of the horses pulling their chariots, cruising the city with tourists are the most recognizable sounds that you can hear near Grafton or Dawson Street. The Pubs are slowly commencing to make their way into pint business. These instants of people’s lives are embodied in a multicultural, feverous, chaotic and humorous crowd, like an overtone orchestra that performs a symphony every day, resonating a clear presence of the city’s ensemble. This series of photographs are an essay about the contemporary people of Dublin. Frames caught in an instinct of a second without the intent to show a prepared, post-altered or an embellished reality.