The Lonely Flamenco Dancer

Look at her, trying in vain to attract the attention of that self-absorbed lion. Poised with her castanets, showing a comely ankle, and he's not even looking in her direction. Sad.

I found her there, sitting atop that rubbish bin, on Sunday when I was walking the streets between Hendon and Finchley. She looked like she was in pretty good shape, even though she'd been outside long enough for a spider to string a web between the flower in her hair and the lion's concrete head.

If I'd had some way to carry her, I would have taken her home.

I mean, look at that face! Complete with two beauty marks!

(Dave is so thankful that I didn't have some way to carry her.)

On a related note, I found some grievously amateurish artwork in someone's trash on Tuesday in Swiss Cottage. Again, no way to carry it. It makes me sad to see art in the trash, even bad art, thinking about the hours someone put into those paintings. (In this case, apparently painting them with a toothbrush.) And what did the subjects say when they saw the results? "Oh, my....well, that's certainly an interesting perspective. And what an imaginative use of color."