When I was young, my Aunt Lil would take me up the street to play. In my neighborhood, "up the street" meant "Central Park". We weren't in any way rich, we just lived up at the top of an old brownstone in a great neighborhood within walking distance to one of the prettiest parks in the world... just like half a million other people. And sooner or later, they all came to the park. It was wide open, quiet, and free. I remember seeing benches filled with little old ladies, sitting in the sun, feeding the birds, catching up with old friends, sharing a little gossip... even in the winter. And they always seemed happy. Some of them might have had money, but most of them probably didn't. But it didn't matter... the park belonged to them. I love doing pieces like this. She's wire on the inside, the body is a rough figure in clay and the clothes are done by stretching out clay with my pasta machine and draping it over the figure like I'm ac...
