December 12, 2010. Any surface is a canvas. Some surfaces, and some expressions just invite participation. Who was the author trying to reach? And did the lover appreciate the public nature of the speech, not to mention the public nature of the response. But does baby know how you feel, or do we just hope so? Are we relying on intuition, gut, body language as somehow more meaningful than words, which our kind spent eons developing, in an effort to add clarity to our interactions? "But baby." I can hear it now.
Showing posts with label construction site art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label construction site art. Show all posts
Sunday, December 12, 2010
BABY, YOU KNOW
December 12, 2010. Any surface is a canvas. Some surfaces, and some expressions just invite participation. Who was the author trying to reach? And did the lover appreciate the public nature of the speech, not to mention the public nature of the response. But does baby know how you feel, or do we just hope so? Are we relying on intuition, gut, body language as somehow more meaningful than words, which our kind spent eons developing, in an effort to add clarity to our interactions? "But baby." I can hear it now.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
MARCH, AS A LAMB
March 20, 2010. Flowers from asphalt. If they can’t grow, art can help them along. These were so real, that I wanted to pick them, but held back because I knew if I did so, the next person who happened along wouldn’t be able to enjoy them. Hanging on by a thread, the stems twisting in the wind, these delicate white blooms surround the corner of this construction site on Canal Street. They were such a surprise on a sunny afternoon in Manhattan.
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