Voyeur.

The Law is beautiful.

I marvel at the lucid, elegant lines of a well-written judgment.

The flow of reason and logic.

The appropriately blend of legal language and colourful turns of phrase.

Some the judge’s own - some borrowed from counsel’s palette.

I have this luxury of the voyeur.

I am like the art connoisseur roaming the gallery floor.

I am not the barrister artist - covered in paint splatters and reeking with the smell of turpentine with discarded canvases and upturned paint tins strewn around their chaotic studio.