A Californian curator invited me to meet Geoff Weston, an artist who's preparing an exhibit on pigeons. I gladly agreed (after ascertaining that Geoff was not from anywhere within a thousand miles of Point Lobos).
We had an interesting talk. Pigeons seem to be like bricks or bread: they're such a routine part of our lives that they're rarely consciously examined. Our talk ranged from pigeon fanciers (racers and breeders to general bird lovers) to pigeon haters ("winged rats!") to pigeon lore: why are baby pigeons invisible?
For me, I appreciate the porcelain pigeon signatures seen throughout the city. Not only do pigeon droppings break up the grey monotony of concrete, they also serve as a brilliant critique of public art, especially statues of Great Men.