flatd
A coupla weeks ago I was early to arrive at my intro to making arty junk out of scrap metal class so I rode around the empty neighborhood for a bit. I like to look around like this and the day was particularly nice. I was taking pictures as I rode along and the sun was setting bringing the light in a very special way. Cool quiet cobbled streets and decrepit crumbling warehouses. Very much my scene, and the Gowanus Canal in the background looking surprisingly pastoral in the early evening light. I set my camera to continuous exposure and shot my shadow as i rode towards the end of a dead end street, hoping for a stop motion silhouette movie. Up a driveway and onto the sidewalk, past a shuttered warehouse door with its' solid roll gate tightly down providing a nice textural background for the snapshots. I looked to my right and there was an NYPD squad car keeping pace.
Paint scraping is therapeutic, but not all the time. It is the kind of labor that allows one to contemplate other things as well as the task at hand. When the cracks get deep and the plaster begins to crumble, my thoughts turn to recycling. Reusing screws. Reusing containers and plywood. Repurposing metal shards found on the street. What is good sense, and what is the folly of "penny wise pound foolish?"
I went for a nice bike ride today, a mellow 20 miles through NYC. As I rode I thought of litter. Litter and exhaust. Litter, exhaust and poop.
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