The sycamores in Civic Center plaza were being trimmed to their winter nubs by a hardworking quartet from Rec & Park this morning.
I asked one of the arborists what the whimsical fabrics were about on some of the trees.
He replied, "a community arts group was granted a permit to put on tree sweaters."
When I raised my eyebrows at the absurd name, he added, "I'm ambivalent about them myself. I'm not a big fan of putting staples into trees."
Continuing on towards the Heart of the City Sunday Farmers Market while navigating between local schizophrenics...
...I stumbled across the final day of an occasional art installation put together over the last six months by the Main Library and the Asian Art Museum on Fulton Street. "Does the city still even have a heart?" I asked one of the young organizers. "I may have been here too long to believe that it does."
"Yeah, I've lived here all my life, and know what you mean," the young woman replied while continuing to hang up signs insisting on messages to a conceptual heart.
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