Funny

Old Things

Walking around Sunday, completely uninspired, I came across a large metal structure that was rotting away. Studying the amazing textures, I aimed my camera at various sections and snapped some images. After downloading, I was surprised at the outcome. The layers of rust and decay were far more beautiful than I would have ever imagined. I'm sure most people pass by without so much as a glance.

At the Met, a hunched little man examines a sculpture's description. The sculpture appears bored.

Simple snaps and pondering

Two simple photos taken from the elevated subway tracks, coming from the Bronx.

Today's thought...

After losing both my mother and Mario in the past few years I often (constantly) find myself pondering the existence of God, the authenticity of Christianity, Buddhism, reincarnation and atheism. So far I still haven't read or heard anything that REMOTELY sounds feasible or plausible.

I found this definition of religion: The belief in and worship of superhuman controlling power, esp. a personal God or Gods.

Today while reading a blog written by a photojournalist and war correspondent I came upon this quote: "Do you believe in a personal, loving God who really cares about us mortals down here? Go to a few war zones and famine areas and watch all those innocent children die, then answer this question...."

Scratch Christianity. For now, I continue to be agnostic (which loosely means I don't have any idea, nor belief, in whom or what may be running the cosmos).

The search continues....

Lovely

Nice scene around the corner from my apartment. Small basketball hoop fastened with wire to the fence of a vacant trash filled lot with a rat poison warning. Lovely.

High Line sunset. Would make a nice song title.

From the High Line

Pigeon at subway stop in the Bronx. I "sneaked" up on him...("snuck" is incorrect, I checked)

A Day of Art

Interesting large scale Robert Adams photo on a billboard, seen as you're walking the High Line. One of my favorite strolls in the city.

Beautiful pink cloud at sunset as seen from the High Line.

Lovely afternoon spent at Moma. People watching in the sculpture garden is great. Who naps like this? Public place, no shoes and lying across three chairs. Who does that?

This piece was actually a "void space" where the drywall was taken away instead of an actual piece of art hanging. Seems the lack of art is now considered art I suppose. (cough...bullshit...cough)

This was a lovely piece. Brilliant "artiste" takes a white can of paint, points it at the ground and sprays out the contents. Calls it something like "40 seconds of aerosol paint pointed at ground". (cough...bullshit....cough....) There were enough shoe prints on it to say people didn't understand it was actually the art.

Seriously, what has the art world come to? Such bullshit!

Mouser and odd symbols

There's a bodega (NYC-speak for small convenience store) on the corner of 6th Ave. and Watts Street that has a very handsome cat who occasionally walks out and greets me when I walk past. He's the sweetest guy with the disposition of a kitten but the owner just informed me he is 13 years old. Unlike most cats, he never bites or claws after having had enough of stroking. He loves affection and will lie there on the sidewalk as long as you offer it.

As I stood up to leave he looked at me bewildered as if to say "Hey, where are you going?"

Last night while waiting for my friend Tatiana to meet me I noticed this odd symbol drawn into the chipped edge of the building. Very very small. (Reminder: you can click on images to enlarge.)
I glanced at the other side and found a symbol with a V, also very small. I wondered what these symbols meant, who may have put them there and why? So curious.

Many things...

Wednesday night my very good friend Mike Breen called from Virginia and told he had just seen a band called The Eric Tessmer Band at Payne's Biker Bar the previous night in Leesburg and suggested I check them out. They were playing at a bar called Stout on W. 33rd Street. I had just finished dinner with Nemo who was in town for work and the bar was just a few blocks away so I went. As I walked in I could already hear the band who was downstairs. Mike had warned me they were extremely loud. There was a sparse crowd which surprised me being a Thursday night in the city. The guitar player, Eric Tessmer, is obviously a huge Stevie Ray Vaughan fan and had down most of his licks/bends/technique and sound. Being very dark in the bar I decided to take some snaps and make them artsy--long shutter speeds, blurs using high ISO.

He was a pretty good guitar player and quite the showman.

What's better than hearing a good band, sipping Magners cider and taking photos? Not much! A fun night.

Hat seller on Prince Street today in Soho.

Couples on a bench on Carmine St. Someone should've introduced the "bookends" to each other.

Shot today on Greenwich Ave. The tiles (and shadows of) that memorialize the WTC. So many fall and break as the years pass.

Random Pics

I still have a slight "knee-jerk" reaction of anxiety when I look up and see a plane flying up Fifth Ave.

Reflection of me in the ceiling at the Met.

You have to wonder why these homeless people who collect cans and bottles never turn them in for cash. This is one major bottle/can/shopping cart train on Waverly. The guy is probably a millionaire (slight exaggeration) and doesn't realize it.

Just found this snap from the last time I went to the Met. I had never walked around the Met's Arms and Armor exhibit. It is truly incredible. The fine inscribed detail in the armor is amazing.

A Quiet End

A few days ago I downloaded all of the photos from my last trip to Virginia. On the flash card I found pictures I had taken the day we buried my mother's ashes. I was torn whether or not to write about it, thinking people don't really want or need to read about the sad events in my life.

It was sunny, extremely humid and hovering around 100 degrees on the Friday morning we buried my mother's ashes. We had a small family service at Fairfax Methodist Church and then drove a short distance to the cemetery for a few words at her grave site. Afterwards I felt the need to stay after everyone had gone and waited while the cemetery worker placed the urn in the ground and replaced the dirt and sod. I found a sense of comfort sitting there alone arranging the flowers on her grave. I couldn't help but think that it seemed like a modest end to everything that had transpired since her illness was diagnosed in early May. All of us hyper-focusing on her illness, keeping her comfortable, getting medications and supplies, hospice and caregivers. All ending suddenly by placing a small wooden box in a shallow hole in the ground and a few short words.

Cremation definitely takes most of the grandeur from the funeral tradition. No big shiny casket, no hearse, no vault, no railings around the coffin, no pallbearers. Definitely a simpler, less traumatic, more efficient way to pass on to whatever the universe has in store for us (in my opinion).

The next day I passed the cemetery while running errands and strained to see the flowers from the road. Late the following afternoon I pulled into the cemetery and walked over to her grave. After just two days of temperatures over 100 degrees the flowers were completely dried out and brittle. I felt I should buy some new ones but never did, knowing that in two more days the outcome would be the same. And plastic? No.