You know how when you’re stumbling out of the subway towards the office and the non-intentional assemblage of door/gate/chain/lock/mirror in the stairway stops you in your tracks to go hmm? No? Just me? Well, this corner at the 42nd Street A train stop reminds a bit of a Louise Bourgeois room installation. A cage. A wobbly reflection. A heavy sense of emotional stagnation catalyzed by traumatic childhood memories of adultery. Yeah.

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(Photo: ANIMALNewYork)

Domestic Incidents by Louise Bourgeois, Tate Modern, Turbine Hall 2006