Personal and Impersonal on 1st Avenue and 66th Street. A man with a brush cleans the smiling sculpture of a winged lion on the façade of a church. I felt the situation had a delightful humor. The statue seems alive, personal. Its paws are curled under its chin in pleasure. It seems to be enjoying immensely the ministrations of the workman despite being stone. The man has his back toward us and seems to represent the impersonal – he wears a smooth helmet and has mask on – yet his personality comes through as we feel his respect for the lion: he has a tender touch with his brush and is affected by the closeness of the smiling beast, even though it's stone.

"Boy with Young sparrow, or Feeling and Geometry": “Hey, mister, you want to see something?” I turned around and there were two boys with a young sparrow. This boy is the younger of the two. The dappled light under the trees illuminated the boy and the bird precisely and softly. It also provided a bright background for the little bird and the gentle hand of the boy. There is a long, relaxed diagonal line from upper left to lower right. I was stirred by the boy’s wonder and respect of a tiny creature in a Bronx park. (c. 1969)

The animated statue of the man I consider New York's greatest mayor seems to want to wake up everyone. It's Fiorello LaGuardia, and we're on LaGuardia Place. The man with a newspaper, leaning against the base of the stature, seems less animate than the sculpture—yet his jacket is animated, with that red tone against the predominating restful blue.The scene has humor, but it's also serious. As the man quietly reads his paper, he casually leans against this contrasting figure. The statue of La Guardia seems to me to be telling passers by: Wake up to a world that can be liked more than you know!

What's lasting and what's fleeting were opposites I felt in a particular way when I took this picture. Breughel's masterpiece Hunters in the Snow is a painting I love. When I saw this scene in Washington Square Park after a heavy snowfall, with the happy dogs and the dancing trees, I was struck by the way this beautiful moment was like that eternal work of art. I was moved by the composition nature gave to the trees and dogs, and particularly by the way that dark and graceful dog with the upcurled tail, outlined against the snow, seemed to embody the spirit of that painting I care for so much. I hoped I had snapped the shutter at that very fleeting moment which I knew would be gone in half a breath.