Like regulations and public opinion, street art is overwritten as quick as a shake of the spray can. Like the oyster, Melbourne accretes a lustre of art work on its many inside surfaces. The hectic overlay is part of its charm, the competition for wall space, the palimpest's time honoured effect. The too-much of everything at once, the gestalt and energy of it are convincing. If the the walls don't have ears they certainly have voice.
Readers might have noticed I've been away. There is a bit of catching up to do from my Melbourne notes.