Sunday, December 22, 2012.  I was getting ready to leave on a holiday trip.  Glass, twinkling in the early morning light, caught the sunlight and sparkled in the early cold.  I love the tiny shapes that shattered auto windows make, the green blue of the pieces strewn on the ground.  I would like a box of them that I could take out to look at whenever I wanted to.

SHELTER FROM THE STORM

Monday, October 29, 2012.  Even the fallen leaves have sought shelter, glistening in the corner of ramp.  Every color of them has come together, tossed about and blown asunder.  In the darkness, only the flash of my camera illuminates the red and the orange and shines on the yellow. They rest a bit, before they will be called again into the swirling pull of the next gust.

SILVER POLE #1

Saturday, October 20, 2012.  This image looks so unreal to me, like I pasted the bar code on a silver pole on top of a background.  It looks almost flat and like it doesn't belong in the scene, but this is New York, and there it is and nothing can be done about it.

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.

TWIG WITH PHOTO

Sunday, July 15, 2012.  A random arrangement on the sidewalk across from my apartment.  It's early on a Sunday morning and already hot.  The image is pocked with pebble marks from the myriad feet that have trod over it since it fell from someones pocket.  Maybe it is a photo meant for a passport, but it was given to a careless lover.  Maybe it is a memento of a loved one, now lost, but weighted down by this slight twig until the image could be rescued by a passerby.  It is now saved - circle, line and square.

MEDITATION

April 9, 2011. Craftsmen so often create beauty out of utility. This fan was only meant to work, to fulfill its function. Did the metalworker know that the metal would rub in ways that would create a shimmering surface, while the rest became covered with the grime of air and fumes? Did he think about the star shape coming to rest randomly in different spots every day, always contrasting with the sharp and straight cross shapes, and all of it contained within the eternal circle. The pigeon guards sprout from the flat surface above. Another world, a different universe, a microcosm of a word filled with belching smoke and barren trees? And then the city reflected below. A living tree and life behind the windows of the apartment building. It all came together just by chance.