In London at the weekend, I took time out of my busy schedule of eating and drinking to dart into a tiny grubby looking gallery that happened to be next to the latest bar of choice. (Charmingly deceptively called The Book Shop.) (The bar. Not the gallery.)

Down a rickety set of steps was an uneven wood-planked floor circled by bare uneven concrete (perfect location for a Pillowman) with a low slung bulb and no further decoration.

But.

On the walls, some something high up. At eye level, you know. I didn't pay much attention because because.

Around the gutter of the walls, this finery.

Turns out he's famous. Pablo Delgado. More here.

A delightful accidental stumble upon.