September 22, 2009. Tuesday night, haircut night. And I'm back in the East Village, close to Tompkins Square Park. High up on a signpost is this image. A bird perched on a branch, bent low and looking forward. It isn't warbling, its poised. Is it to strike, for flight, or rest? And is the dripping red as ominous as it portends and what statement is our artist making? I can't infer from what I see here. Maybe it is the expected gloom of winter coming with the first day of fall.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Bird on a Wire
September 22, 2009. Tuesday night, haircut night. And I'm back in the East Village, close to Tompkins Square Park. High up on a signpost is this image. A bird perched on a branch, bent low and looking forward. It isn't warbling, its poised. Is it to strike, for flight, or rest? And is the dripping red as ominous as it portends and what statement is our artist making? I can't infer from what I see here. Maybe it is the expected gloom of winter coming with the first day of fall.
