From here I can see the curve of of the earth

Here are the days—
Heat, haze
on the horizon like a
matte painting, wavering

This part of summer
finds me un-hungry.
I have no appetite.
My desires simplified,
bleached
like the half-shells of
bi-valves, left hollow on the sand.

The sounds of waves,
shrieking gulls, soft wind—
And the gradual granular erosion
of my skin, cell by cell.
A pretzel taste on dry lips.
The penetrating tiredness,
and how sun-soaked skin
feels temperatures differently now.

The monotony of waves,
endless motion
that results in a kind of
pounding stillness,
a loud silence,
a dense-packed solitude.
Time stops for a few hours.
There is a profound reassurance
in these contradictions.

Tide in, tide out
Salt and sand—
abrasives
that soothe, and erase.

Continue reading

These are people observed at bars over several weeks

More from the sketchbook with the paper I’m not keen to work on. The book is finished (enough). Here are the last few that were decent enough to post (even if marginally). Some work with a brush pen here, but those things require a light touch, so I need to work on that.

Continue reading

These are people riding the A, D, and F trains

I only posted photographs while I was on vacation, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been sketching. I’ve been really trying to finish up this sketchbook, which has crap paper so I can get back to a Moleskine, haha.

Anyway, some of these needed some color; some needed tightening up. I just haven’t had time to assess and scan. Here are a few done over the past few days on various trains between Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Unfortunately, I seem to have a knack for picking the people who are likely to get off the train at the next stop, leaving me very little time to observe!

Continue reading

Leave(s)

portion of a Calder sculpture

People disappear

Sometimes all of a sudden
without warning.
Sometimes gradually

like sunset on the longest day of the year,
or how long it takes some trees
to become naked
in the face
of
oncoming winter.

One way is like hitting a brick wall.
The other is more torturous.

An ongoing awareness
tracing the slow serpentines
through the empty air
and then the gentle, condescending
landing
on the dry sidewalk

of
each
brittle

leaf.

Then you
Brace for winter, and dream

of springtime.

 

From the Whitney to Coney: art

Chroma cubes at the Whitney
The palest cubes in a scale of chromatic/tonal shifts. I love how these flatten into a painting, viewed from above with the shadows cast.

My brother and I, expecting rain Friday, planned a trip to the Whitney followed by a wander up the High Line. Naturally once we got to the city, the weather had become hot and sunny. It was a good plan anyway, as neither of us had been to the new Whitney, and we saw the Calder exhibit (two of his floor-sitting mobiles pictured below), some of the permanent collection, and selections from the Biennial. Some stunning views from the High Line followed.

More High Line and Coney Art Walls after the jump.
Continue reading

A quiet wander through a green wood (part the second)

Here continues my collection comprising studies in symmetry from Green-Wood Cemetery— a continuation from this post. These are all in stoic and formal black & white, selects edited to a round dozen.

Continue reading

A quiet wander through a green wood (part the first)


This is part one of two, as I took a slew of photos this afternoon, walking through Green-Wood Cemetery with my younger brother, in town for a few days. This cemetery is very near my apartment, yet I haven’t been since last summer. It was a trip to release one of my goldfish (grown too large for my tank) into the beautifully tended koi and comet pond there.

Here begins Elysium.

Continue reading