STOMPER

Saturday, January 26, 2013.  My nephew used to call draft horses 'stompers.'  I immediately thought of that when I saw this image worn into the orange safety strip on the subway.  It might be one of the Titans, and every time his foot reaches the earth it becomes huge, the other foot lifted into the surrounding universe, and small to our sight.

MOONLIGHT IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST

Sunday, April 29.  Ah, what mysteries unfold in this corner of the forest, lit by the golden light of a full moon?  The figures meet and perform the ritual, the trees and vines as witness to the dance.  It makes me sad to know that this work will soon be gone, an ephemeral piece of our City.

MASK ON THE TRACKS

April 10, 2011. Sometimes I almost abandon any semblance of good sense and want to do something stupid like clamber down on the tracks to save art. Such was the case here. I almost couldn't bear to see this mask lying there, repeatedly crossed over by the subway. Impassively challenging, red lips wanting to speak, drawing you to them. Green face growing in front of you. I still wonder if it is there and if I need to add a tool to my briefcase, a telescoping hand to grasp things beyond my reach but not my appreciation.