I took note of a couple more paintings—James Reick’s hard-to-ignore Cockblock, a glimpse at the mid-section of a woman wearing a bright red t-shirt with a Kung-Fu image, and David Lyle’s Buyers Remorse, a black-and-white depiction of a seemingly 50s-era couple putting a frame on their living room wall. Inside the frame, one word: “Hype”. Message received.
On a short pedestal in the corner of the room, nearly completely obscured by the crush of humanity around it, was Terri Thomas’ “The Watchful”: a two-foot long cat, formed in plaster and covered from head to toe in Swarovski Crystals. Essentially a tribute to the feline life—relaxed yet ever alert—but with a considerable amount of bling.
I took the last swig of my Bud, and shuffled my way through the clumps of conversation towards the door. As nice as the art was, the cold was starting to seem preferable to the crowd. On my way out, I put my can in one of the piles of trash… my little contribution to unintentional New York sidewalk art.
