There’s a running joke in my household—well, at least among the humans—that I don’t go anywhere without my camera, and I don’t make it more than a block or two without stopping to take a photo of something that others might find less than remarkable. Often, the photos never get used; other times, I’ll start to notice similar examples, and eventually, I have enough to warrant a photo essay.

I’m of two minds about graffiti. If it’s just a tag, a spray-painted scribble, I think it’s loathsome. But when someone actually tries to say something, to get something across, I have to admit I like it. What would Tribeca or Soho look like without it? These days, a significant part of the charm of Soho, in particular, comes from the street art. Without it, Soho would be Americana Manhasset. (I might feel differently if I owned street-level property.)

This photo essay is of the faces I’ve spotted in Tribeca over the past few months—most were drawn or painted, a few were stickers. The urge to draw human faces strikes me as so primal, reminiscent of cave paintings. Enjoy them while they last: I snapped the one above with my iPhone, and when I returned two days later with a real camera, it had already been painted over.

Click on any to enlarge.