GOLDEN CITY

Sunday, September 16, 2012.  I was doing nothing.  Sitting in bed, reading, watching, waiting.  And then the sun blazed in my windows.  The City of Gold appeared, across the vast space of green, beconing me, and all who saw it, to come and find it.  To try to find it, like some leprechaun's pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  Fruitless.

97TH STREET WRAPPED

Saturday, September 15, 2012.  What a magnificent sky, set against this bright white fabric and the deep green of our street trees, feeling only the slightest touch of the sun.  Sometimes the mere act of walking up a street at a time that is not my normal hour, gives me occasion to see things differently.  And the sky was such a blue this morning, I couldn't help but stop and take in this cityscape.  This could be a mountain scene, snow covered and rolling down to the forest line, with the most crystal blue sky roaming behind.

CHRISTO VISITS 97TH STREET

Friday, September 14, 2012.  As I prepared to leave for work I saw this from my window.  I had somehow failed to notice it, so it was as if overnight, Christo had visited 97th Street.  The facade is shielded from sight, some unknown renovation taking place, from which some unforeseeable beauty will burst forth.  I wait in anticipation.

SIDEWALK COSMOS

Wednesday, September 12, 2012.  There is so much to see in this tight little space.  I was initially drawn back to this small patch of green moss in a sidewalk depression, with its tiny stones nestled in a crease.  Then I saw the rusted patch of cement, the remnants of a street sign that once stood here and bled its metallic life out and away after repeated rains.  I am still - and again - drawn to the green moss, pushing life into the unlikeliest of places.

BENEATH THE SURFACE

Tuesday, September 11, 2012.  Walking down 9th Avenue to the barber I came upon the open steel sidewalk doors to the basement of an old tenement.  They've never been open before, and I have trod over this work countless times.  I wonder who left these there?  Was it someone from the current gallery or someone from the previous, Giant Robot?  I'm happy enough with either.  The neon colors dripping over with white paint - I like how it looks - snow falling on a mountain burnished orange by the setting sun.  And the other - love rising out of the depths.  I like that idea too.

TORN

Saturday, September 8, 2012.  Layers of images and innuendo.  I see the fear of alien in this.  Underneath our skin, is there an alien presence, the implant of a species that left us here?  Will we react to it as we see so often in how we react to the unknown, with force and violence?  This image portends the worst.  Yet there is a word of hope - LET.  Let it be.  Let it live.  Let us imagine.  Let us grow.  Let us become.

I LOVE STREET VENDORS

Sunday, September 2, 2012.  Just making bubbles, giant rainbow bubbles floating across the plaza at the Met.  The maker only wanted to make them, enjoy them, make people laugh and children jump up and down.  And they rose above our heads and maybe carried our dreams away to be released into the void where they could take root.  I could ride inside this one, for a while, until I would remember that I probably couldn't float away in a bubble.

Saturday, September 1, 2012.   In this place of overlooking, I am looking up.  Olana, the home of Frederic Church, of vistas and landscape.  I look up to the blue, to the bundled and shadowed shapes of the cloud.  I look at the sharpness of the man-made lines against that endless blue, the wispy, changing shape of the clouds that could sweep down and engulf all of this, if it was so inclined.

NIGHT DIVE

Monday, August 20, 2012.  This reminds me of night diving in Bonaire.  The little fish are illuminated with our lanterns, swimming among the dark shapes of the coral and rocks, and the inkiness of the depths where our lights do not shine.  It is what I saw when I momentarily lost my dive partners in the wilderness of that space.

I AM A CRAB NOW

Sunday, August 19, 2012.  Solitary crab in a blue bay, clinging to a weed encrusted wooden post.  I reach with my claws to feed on whatever passes by, and I am wary of the giants walking past me lest they net me and eat me.  I wait for the high tide that will conceal me, or at least give me additional cover.  I am here until I am not, until I move to another location, a better spot in my world.

ORANGE STAR

Saturday, August 18, 2012.  I didn't know what to make of this bright little bag hanging on the fence in front of this weed tangled lot.  Is it optimism in the face of the steady onslaught of the decay behind it?  Is it lost?  Was it dropped on the sidewalk and rescued, put up so it's owner might find it more easily?  Is it the dream scape of the pensive white faced girl?  Maybe it was someones spontaneous act of kindness, bringing color to a dull tableau.

A LA CLARK

Sunday, August 12, 2012.  This is what lies behind the mask.  Behind the eyes is structure, light, darkness, cracks.  The stripping away of this rectangle has given us insight, but has denied us entry through those soul tunnels - the eyes.  Adding to or taking away helps me to see in very different ways.

THE VIEW FROM ABOVE

Monday, July 23, 2012.  Accidental, incidental and transitory.  A whitewash of glue obscures what was once visible and reveals that which it can't cover or doesn't blend.  I like to think that someone thought about how much to strip away and what to leave.  Did this person see where to tear a bit to reveal the blood red paint and the cross hatches?  It is lost now, not to be found again.