Narrow Alleys
I am afraid sometimes to walk the alley up to my studio ,
I have to confess.
In February , Max
the widower pigeon, was mourning the loss of his wife , Martha, on the
sideway .She was
nesting before that, under my window,
and I could feel the sadness when cold weather sank in again ,and the
egg was abandoned.
Later in March , two small black-cap chickadees were
fighting on the pavement for a juicy worm so hard , that I was almost sure they
will kill each other.
And what's up with the phony " sounds of birds"
that are so " cleverly" put up on speakers , too loud to be credible
? They are so fake and annoying that all the suit cladded hipsters in The Distillery, are looking up in disbelief .
Everybody is acting funny around the alley.
The riders on bicycles are using places where there is not enough space even for
kids to get through , SEGWAY freaks are almost run you down , unleashed huge
dogs jump on small kids in pampers , rude cafes owners block the alleys with their
ever extending outdoor patios , furious teenage students ,in visiting groups, are a constnt
remindiner of the Italian " furbo".
Am I getting old and tired of this circus ? Did I lose my
sense of humor
and cannot see the half full
glass anymore ? I don't know, on the way to the studio I am looking for some
innocence, benevolence and genuine beauty -passed the manicured bed
flowers in wooden barrels, that the
CityScape corporation planted around.
I will have to look harder around me , in order to find inspiration
.
"Dead Languages" 2011 Series Acrylic on Paper (30"x22"
Lately I recall why I started in the first place to invent it , rather than observe it !
