Wednesday, January 28, 2009
So the top one is the the New York Pavilion and the bottom is the Unisphere aka the Globitron ( i personally prefer that name.) They are what remains of the 1964 World's Fair site in Queens, which was also the site of the 1939 Fair, and before that was a dumping ground which Fitzgerald described in Gatsby as the "valley of ashes." Cool stuff! The sphere was dedicated to "man's achievements on a shrinking globe in an expanding universe." I realized that woody allen makes reference to that in Annie Hall... the scene where he is taken as a child to a therapist because he is obsessed with the notion of the universe expanding and what is it all worth anyway etc.....
I love how these connections reveal themselves!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
it's the end of the month, almost the end of the year, going insane in another airport hotel, "i can say I hope it will be worth what i give up" but what exactly i'd be giving up here i don't know. early sunsets, fighting for time, rambling winter walks alone through a vast unfamiliar unfriendly city. when it's with another, is it any better? and what exactly am i anticipating coming home to? another holiday without the comfort and presence of family. is any of it worth worrying about when atrocities by human beings to other human beings are occuring countries away, mumbai to paris to new york, what is the future when people can do such things to each other...the coffee's getting cold, the light is escaping fast.
Monday, September 22, 2008
it was the last night of the san gennaro festival in little italy. celebrating the blood of a saint which has hardened and re-liquifies each year, by holy miracle. the spectacle is less sublime and more grotesque, packed with people eating awful varieties of fried foods and carrying huge carnival prizes like we're back at coney again only there are lights in arcs across the small winding street that make me feel like christmas or the first time i walked down that street in mid winter and snow started to fall just lightly and it was magical. first encounters and last encounters, in gram parsons own faraway city with a faraway feel though now it manages to be right here, right now, with that same sense of distance and unknowability that it has held for me since before i came. and there are moments when you're walking down the street and you don't even feel like you're wholly there, and walker percy comes to mind with the millions of personal rays shooting all over the place and it's falling down around your ears. and there are moments when you are whirling down the street and you're feeling fine and the city embraces you as you're holding on to someone's arm and they're gliding along with you, happy and momentous and shooting out rays of love for this place that thrills you because that feeling of being welcome is so rare and strange. and there are moments like this particular one standing on top of a phantom tollbooth that is perched on a rooftop with wind swirling around you and dramatic parrish clouds around you and the glow emanating from the edges and the corners of the buildings leaping up around you and the distant lights of the manhattan bridge not so distant from here and you look over the edge at the carnival crowd and it snakes in lights and bodies and heat down the road into the lights. this is the last night and at 11 they will start the rapid dissembling of the stands and carts and light displays and by the morning it will be any other street, clear and unceremoniously returned to the quotidian. now a small mamiya is being perched on a small tripod in the farthest corner of the rooftop, and he says to come and have a look, and you see a perfect little jewel postcard shot of the light river running down the street, the crowd and the fireescapes and the smoke and the dazzle. the photograph of an end for a beginning. the next day is bright and crisp with fall and the photographs can happen again, even without the lights. it was nothing to do with festivals and crowds and carnival excitement or clouds and rooftops and the thrill of the embracing city. sometimes things shift about in your mind and click into place with the right timing and the right inspiration and the rightness of the changing of seasons. elegy.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Now I imitate jessie and try to work through this process i've decided to embark upon. not going to change the title yet formally so as not to jinx it, but I think I'll have a meeting very soon with the director of the program at Pratt. Have started working on the statement of purpose, and it is amazing how much good advice people have when I tell them what it is i'm working on. i've got a lot of independent study to do, but i think lauren will be incredibly helpful and i am going to try with her help to do some volunteering/internship at the Historic District Council in the city. but for now, i have some brownies to bake for a barbecue happening later today in Ditmas Park. I'm going to try to ride there on the bike but am somewhat trepidatious (sp.?) about the Slope and finding the place from there.... we shall see.
Friday, August 29, 2008
so the ones below are actually enroute bridge shots for the most part. I have a few more of those and then the houses themselves. the website there has some amazing shots of interiors, and some old photographs of what they originally looked like.