19 September 2014 — Once the whole city is your art installation, then any direction you look adds more to the exhibit.
Under that Queen St. West scaffolding, I first look up, & catch the joke of construction worker boots striding across Heel Boy! (last post). Then I look straight ahead, and take in this Elicser mural on the community centre wall.
I’ve seen it before, & noted the haunted quality of the faces, typical of Elicser’s work. Now, framed by scaffolding, they take on a caged look as well. It makes me somehow, just a little, uneasy. (A friend and I later discuss how much influence context can have on the way we interpret an image.)
The uneasiness disappears as soon as I look across the street and up. ‘Way up, to that level where jagged rooftops allow artists to play peek-a-boo with their street-level audience.
She looks delightfully free & happy, don’t you think?
The next up-image is almost at Bathurst St., where my eyes rise above both streetcar & Tim Hortons signage (how iconic can we be), and snag upon … Law Bird.
Well, that’s my nickname for this recognizable bird. (Alas, I don’t yet know the artist — somebody please tell me.) The bird is pretty well the same each time, but his message varies. First time I saw him, he said: “I fought the law, and won!” Hence the nickname. Here, with “a criminal mind,” I suppose you could say he is still on a legal theme.
Next, straight ahead, on my side of Queen St., a bird of a different feather.
In fact, not a bird at all. It’s a cat.
Um, a dog?
What do you think? Your choice may or may not say something profound about your personality, but the creators of this doorway don’t care — they just want you to consider the question. They also announce this is part of some “animal project” that they don’t further define. Not that I can see, anyway. Looking for more information causes me to look down, read their sidewalk billboard — and notice a bowl of water. Passing dogs will surely notice it as well.
I cross Bathurst, keep heading east on Queen, look up and see this trio of rooftops. It’s always worth looking above the Plastic Line — i.e. the base level of modern store-fronts, the urban equivalent of a ship’s waterline — to see what heritage architecture may still linger, and whisper a story from the past.
I find this story … poignant.
How lovely these buildings once were! The lines so graceful, the slatework so nicely defined, the ornamental ironwork a delicate final touch. Now, remnants only.
But it’s all right. I honour the glimpse, take a moment to hope that someone buys the trio in time to restore them, but recognize they may fall and other things arise. Some of which I’ll like, some not, and it’s all part of the necessary energy of change.
And that is only is a moment’s reflection, because then I look straight ahead, literally straight ahead of me on the sidewalk, and see this young couple striding along. The first thing I notice is the tracery of her tattoo, how it curves perfectly up her neck.
Only after do I take in the whole picture, and find it all so pleasing. I like the simplicity, the fresh energy, and the harmony. These young people are — literally! — in step with each other, and their day.
Soon I’m at Queen West & John Street, and look down — both metaphorically (down = south) & literally (below eye level).
I don’t know, until I read the poster, that I’ve come upon the John St. Pedestrian Initiative. I just think I’ve stumbled on three really swell Muskoka chairs, all slicked up for some happy cause.
Aren’t they fun? Wouldn’t you like to drop your bottom into one of them, and snuggle in for a while?
This is exactly the point of the Initiative, I discover — claiming some of the road to provide space for pedestrians to relax and enjoy their surroundings. Which, when I look straight ahead along the line, is exactly what people are doing.
I cock my head at all that, and think, “Well, that’s it for today.” I know a suitable Final Image when I see it …
… and, for many blocks after, my camera sits in my pocket. My fingers don’t even itch.
Then, up on Dundas St. by now, near Sherbourne, I look straight ahead, and dig into my pocket one more time.
Daddy is bringing his little boy home from school. It would be an endearing sight anyway, but what really touches me is that shiny new backpack. New school year, new supplies, new hopes & plans.
I hope this child has a wonderful school year, full of discoveries & delight.