I've been spending a few days in the UK. Yesterday I came across a long wooden fence. Somebody had been painstakingly sanding off graffiti tags that another person had carelessly painted on.
In Paris you never see a wooden fence and graffiti is dealt with by painting over the offending tag. The end result is a beige wall, where the paint is sometimes so thick it starts to peel off in big crusty flakes.
The Oxford fence with its' sanded patches caught my eye from the other side of the street. It looked lovely I thought, with the subtle abstract pattern of lighter and darker patches.
So there you go, I've fallen for a fence.