Browne stands in the middle of the intersection at Broadway and César Chávez, directly under the ornate golden dragons that guard the entrance to Chinatown. The normally bustling corner is quiet and empty, as is most of Los Angeles at two o’clock on a Monday morning. Browne wears a bandanna over his face, a black hoodie and a wild mess of curls atop his otherwise obscured head. He holds a wooden bird in one hand and a padlock in the other — a few feet of rope connect the two seemingly disparate objects. He stares up at his target — a stretch of telephone wire extended across the breadth of Broadway. In one deft motion, Browne tosses the bird and the lock toward the heavens. The rope wraps itself around the line, propelled by the weight of the lock. And all of a sudden what was once a naked length of wire is now an art installation — a... More >>>