by Abigail Woolley
The city's pockets, filled with welded iron and collages, fill, at times, with studded lips and noses under bifocals. We slid into the galleries and looked at the city to see it. It hung on walls, and it meandered to look at itself.
But outside, a drum circle in the plaza made a city rhythm.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
City Rhythm
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