On the way to work, I recall along the way passing by a beautiful cherry red bicycle locked outside a store. Having passed by the bicycle twice a day to and from work, I assumed the owner lived or worked nearby and didn't pay much attention. It wasn't until one day I noticed that the seat had been stolen and a week later, the wheels were missing. Over a time period of a month, the thieves much like vultures, slowly picked away at the remains piece by piece until all that was left was a dented, rusty old frame which remained for several years chained to the parking meter.
Whenever I pass by bicycles with handlebars missing, or oddly warping wheels that look as though it is melting to the ground like from a Salvador Dali painting, I have often thought to document the slow transformation I had previously observed. I found plenty of subjects to choose from while walking around the streets of New York.
The Contortionists, 2011
20" X 20"
oil on canvas
