ROCK FACE

January 16, 2012.  It must have been an early impulse for humans to draw, to use simple lines to enhance what was partially visible in the cracks on a rock wall.  From cave drawings to subway drawings, working with a surface that is rough and already pocked with its own marks, the artist gives more solid lines to a vision, a recording.  I can see this square jawed, stocky man waiting for a subway.  I can connect with him and what he thinks and how he uses this thing to move around his world.  I can see myself.

I AM HERE

January 13, 2012.  We were here, all of us, together, apart, overlapping and singular.  I wonder if you felt lost, ignored or lonely.  Or did you feel exuberant and simply want to leave your mark on the world, somewhere, so that years later you could show this to loved ones, like a heart carved in a tree, and remember what it felt like to be at that spot, in that moment, with that person - or without?

SNO CONE

December 21. 2011.  A singular morning in December in the land where I was born.  The trees in the distance were enveloped in frost, glistening as the sun considered its rising.  No snow graced us or the land, but this stunning steel blue sky with the shimmering white was captivating.  What else to do, but look and wonder how long it could remain, because surely it had vanished as the day wore on.

PLATFORM TADPOLES

December 2, 2011.  I end my day walking over this pool of tar minnows massing at the end of the platform.  Little tails, bulbous bodies, bumping in to each other, swimming over and under.  They cross over a golden median, a divide to their worlds, a meaningless, shallow barrier, traversed with little effort.  Tadpoles often puddle together, maybe for protection, maybe to become familiar, maybe for community.

KOOL DADDY

December 1, 2011.  Location, location, location.  I get off the subway on the wrong end of the train and what do I see?  Something I've never seen before, that's what.  How many people contributed to this and how did each person decide to add to, or erase, what came before?  Sometimes the MTA's lack of attention and slow repairs allow a thing of beauty to emerge, grow and adapt.  It lifts my day.

BURNISHED LEAVES AND TALL TREES

November 12, 2011.  I was walking.  The wind was moving the remaining leaves northward, and the sun was shining from its new southern slant.  It was a crisp morning.  And then I saw these Sumac leaves - red, orange, yellow, green and brown - they were being whipped by the wind.  So slight and crinkled, hanging on by a thread, pliable in the wind.  The sun highlighted their color, dappled by shadow in the early morning.  I stopped, others stopped too, curious as to what I was looking at.  And then they saw it.

WHITE AND GREEN

October 30, 2011.  I love the milky white of subway tiles.  They are meant to just be background, to lull us, to not initiate any conflict, any struggle, any awareness.  Yet, they do the opposite.  On to them is projected a multitude of statements.  Maybe it is graffiti, or maybe it is a poster.  Just as often there are cracks that bleed through a multitude of glazes, glues and tar.  And then there is mold or some fungus.  In this case a wonderful green is growing and spreading, a Rorschach of sorts - small, isolated and exquisite.