The works of art below describe the condition of my mind and soul. Waiting for NJ transit trains can either be boring or entertaining. Sometimes it is boring if I'm freezing and too cold to draw. Other times its seems the entire city is at your table for you to indulge. My mind spins like a movie reel, people peddle by me on their Schwinn wheels, fingers tap numbers in laps, time lapse, perfume man the exotic prophet, puffs of hair and caught combs, apparitions of history overlapping everyday existence, for the sake of metaphor or your own sanity and understanding, of the world, of your city, of your people, all people. The discarded things picked up as relics. The street to the viewer.