During a jaunt away from Manhattan last week, I was on my way to pick up my father’s car at Pat’s Towing Services in Somerville, Massachusetts (I am notoriously negligent when it comes to vehicular matters), and I encountered the most delightful little graveyard of old radiators. I imagine that these “Radiator Gardens” exist all across America. It reminds me of Agnès Varda’s famous documentary, Les Glaneuses (The Gleaners)–it’s all about people who make a life out of salvaging discarded food and objects for sustenance or simply to imbue them with new aesthetic charms. Re-contextualization is one of my favorite aspects of art history bull shit. However, I am loath to pick up anything off the street in New York City, due to my paralyzing fear of infesting my Park Avenue residence with bedbugs–that would truly terminate my “pro bono publico Manhattan maid’s quarters situation.”

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