Our headquarters during our stay was in Roma Norte, but we wandered afoot a far piece from there. These snapshots of street art were gathered during those ramblings.
My grandmother, Thelma Virginia Tarrall Williams (1899-1999), did not believe in keeping her hands idle. She lived a long, long time so had plenty of time to crochet. Afghans. Afghans for her children, her grandchildren and even some of her great-grandchildren before retiring her needles. Aside from one that burned in our house in 1975, most of the coverlets probably still exist, cherished as family heirlooms.
Whenever I see a contemporary take on knitting or crocheting, such as the one cloaking the tree trunk above, I think what fun Grana would have had liberating her craft from the confines of domesticity into public spaces. I can almost hear her chuckling with pleasure over transforming a tree for all to see.
The serendipitous pleasure of encountering street art lies in the exuberant freedom of expression of its creators.
Postcards from Barton Springs 
That is absolutely lovely. Both the photos and the story.
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Fantastic street art and a lovely insight into your grandmother.
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