So I continue with reviews of public art.(I must be forging a career path or something. Or maybe not Fashion reviews or humor columns might suit me better. I am taking all applications from interested employers). The tunnels which connect the sides of E&C stream under the heavily trafficked streets that are more congested than someone with a sinus infection. Lining the inside of every tunnel is a mural. Under water scenes, street carnivals, Victorian daily life — a myriad of themes shouting their lives through a kaleidoscope of infinite color. It’s a lovely thing, public art. It certainly makes the walk beneath the streets more refined that than of a rats in the sewers, even though with the smell of stale urine that sometime wafts through the tunnels, you might think you’re walking through ‘des egouts.‘ Ii do love the murals, their colors, their joy, but that are no oeuvre of DaVinci-esque art. No Lucien Freud. No Mao Zedong(which is probably a good thing, because as far as I know, he wasn’t an artist). From a standpoint of pretentious artistic merit, the paintings lack shading and the face sometime forgot their expressions at home. However, these mural serve to pipe steaming hot color into the lives of passerbys and are, therefore, an appreciated part of my near daily life.