The first time I visited Venice* I took a rather tortuous route to the Guggenheim and saw two pieces of artwork that have lingered with me longer than almost any other I've seen.
One was a coppery slash of metal by Lucio Fontana which flung reflections of that special milky canal light around the garden exhibition room and relieved the ache of muscles that had turned down too many blind alleys that day. The other was a painted box containing a mildly ridiculous fortune-telling bird crafted by Joseph Cornell.
When I saw the parrot above lurking on a shadowy pub ledge I was instantly reminded of that box, that bird, that day; I had to create my own little photographic version.
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