Saxophones on the wall at SFO.

Pots and pans on the wall at the restaurant in Zona Rosa where we ate the first night.

A little gallery near our hotel had several sculptures made from some inexplicable material. This one had dozens of mouths.

A billboard. Mexico City is more conscious of the rights of women than the provinces. Or maybe FreddyKahlo is a line of clothes. It ought to be.