Soho is an eclectic recycled New York neighborhood. (Its name is an acronym for “SOuth of HOuston Street.”) It was formerly known as “Hells Hundred Acres” – a warren of early 20th Century sweatshops. It was gentrified in the 60s and 70s and today is known for its shops, galleries, antiques, and lofts that sell for millions. Not to mention entertainment. The walls of its buildings are plastered with posters advertising pleasures that range from listening to music to watching murder. It is appropriate that this pair of young wall readers are dressed largely in black – they seem to blend in to the posters and become absorbed by them visually as they are verbally. I compose this image as a series of layers, starting with a No Parking sign in the foreground with a pair of bikes locked to it, as my anchor. The pair of wall readers in the second layer echoes the pair of bikes in the first layer. The posters themselves make up the third layer – most of them requiring a context that goes far beyond my own in order to understand what they are promoting. (As my own kids would be quick to tell me, “It’s not meant for you, dad.”) A fourth layer is a bit grittier – a huge graffiti signature is painted on the wall partially behind the posters. The fifth and final layer is the old brick wall itself – a surface supporting the posters, the graffiti, and even an air conditioner that has bars over it to keep it from being stolen.