On the waterfront

Brooklyn Heights waterfront, that is.

BH is such a snotty neighborhood it's surprising to see the bits that are falling apart. Without these little hidden spots, I think it would be unbearable here.

Abandoned and flooded basketball court.


Empty lot overtaken by weeds.


As close to the abandoned piers as I could go without trespassing. I noticed there are some gaps in the fencing that I might be able to slip through when it's darker.


View from the promenade


railing

Guggenheim

Can ya tell? I've been museum hopping! The Guggenheim has an interesting exhibit on now called the Shapes of Space with a very cool plastic wall by Alyson Shotz.

looking in


looking out


dance floor

They also had a fantastic Rothko (Black and Gray) from close to the end of his life. Beautiful.

Serra at the MoMA

It's hard for me to express how much I love Richard Serra. I feel like a giddy awe-struck kid when I'm around his work.







I think I squealed with joy when in Sequence. Squealed. At my age.

Upstate weekend

A weekend away from subway smells, angry women wielding baby strollers and suicidal taxi drivers. Just what I needed...

Both pictures are of the same view but on different days.

Real Fruit

yum! gooseberries...

Strange Fruit

Oh, those crazy Aussies. I was walking around during lunch and saw Strange Fruit at the World Financial Center. They dance (or do a performance of sorts)...on poles. It was interesting, I guess.

Wedding...

Went to a wedding this weekend, north of the city (I think). I took some pictures but none really turned out the way I wanted, except for this one...

Hello Brooklyn Heights!

Well ok, this was taken in Cobble Hill...still how can anyone resist this tasty little bite! Yum.

The guy said to make sure I got the pigs teeth. Unfortunately, my camera didn't focus but you still get the idea.

Farewell Park Slope

I finally moved and am getting settled into the new digs. So to commemorate my time in the slope, here are some random selection of pictures from Park Slope (and nearby), some taken quite a while ago...

Brooklyn waterfront

As I walked around the rebranded "Columbia Waterfront District" aka Red Hook, waiting for a friend for dinner, I took some pictures to pass the time.



What is it about urban desolation that makes me so happy?

WWJD?

Indeed. What would Jesus do?

Buy an SUV, of course!


then go shopping for a few tasteful collectibles...


finally, he would cozy up with a good yarn.

The squeamish need not bother

I'm moving to Brooklyn Heights in about 2 months. When I went to check out my new apartment, this poor guy was in the middle of the street...but what a beautiful color the blood is.


I realize that most people will see this and be disgusted. For that, I'm sorry.

Bite me

Store window in Astoria Queens

Venice of New York

The Gowanus canal continues to be one of my favorite places to wander around.




Found this completely burned out van. When I took a few pictures some guys from the nearby factory came out and looked at me suspiciously and watched me until I walked away. Hm.

Harlem

While taking this picture (about a month ago), a guy walked by and said, "MmmMmm...China doll."

Sigh.

Harlem (around 135th St)

Hookin' it

Wandered around Red Hook yesterday. Sadly, my camera battery died so I only have a few pictures. If there was only a subway line, I would move to this neighborhood in a heartbeat.


Mosiac doorway.


Abandoned street cars.


Interior.

Tunnel people

I've started taking pictures of people on the subway. Laws be damned!
These women were dressed exactly alike...from red hat to black sneakers. How odd. Even though I was trying to be sneaky with my cell phone camera, check out the first class sneer just for me.


Didn't get caught this time.

Gowanus canal

The next two are by elbow toe, I think.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Laaadies and Gentlemennnn! Welcome to Friday Night Fiiiiiights!

I wonder if there is a streak of violence coming out in me...first rifles and now boxing. A friend of mine invited me to see some amateur boxing in a basement of a church and it sounded so seedy and wrong, I simply couldn’t resist.

It was hard for me to see someone hitting (and kicking) another person. The bloody nose or swollen eye for entertainment felt morally wrong. However, the crowd, made up of mostly white former frat boys now “professionals” probably in law or finance, wanted more blood. When there was a 5-10 second lull in the violence, I’d inevitably hear, “What are you dancing or fighting? Come ONNN!”

The most surprising aspect of that whole night was the civility in the ring. Boxers shook hands with each other after the fight and then would shake the hands of each other’s trainers. One Thai boxer did a little ritual praying while his opponent waited respectfully for him to finish. The physicality and grace of these fighters was impressive, their bodies trained for months for this one night. I’m taking an artistic anatomy class now, so I spent quite a bit of time trying to see the various muscle groups as they ducked, punched and kicked. Hello Serratus anterior and Sternocleidomastoid! (Yes, I know I’m a geek)

And how could I forget, the requisite scantily clad women who walked around the ring holding signs for the round count. One in particular walked with hips swaying, tossing her long brown hair. The men went wild. One aging frat boy kept on yelling, “Call me!! Calllll meeee!” while holding his hand to his face like a phone. Um, even if she could somehow telepathically get your number from that, she wouldn’t call you. Just a thought.

After becoming numb to the violence and done with observing the stellar crowd around me, it was actually very boring. Incredibly boring. Oh, look he got punched. Oh, and now the round is over, it's the sexy girl again, the guy's asking her to call him again, now the boxer's eye is almost swollen shut and a doctor's looking at it. Yawn. How odd that a night of violence can induce such tedium.

After a few hours, I managed to slip out into the bitterly cold night glad this little experiment was over.

Charlton Heston is my new hero

What an odd place to find a anti-gun, bleeding heart liberal from New York. But oh the strange and wonderful things we do to satisfy curiosity!

So welcome to the Charlie Elliot gun range in Maysville, Georgia.


Gun shell.


More gun shells...rusting.


Yours truly, eyeing a target down range. I've been told my form is horrible but the rifle was so heavy I couldn't really hold it up on my own and I was a little afraid of the kickback.

To be honest, it wasn't as fun or as cathartic as I thought it would be. For the first 10 minutes, I embarrassingly and uncontrollably shrieked every time a gun was fired. However, it was fun to try to get a tight pattern on the target...but after a while, the cold soaked in and my shoulder began to hurt from the kickback. I’m glad I tried it though. Next time, onto hand guns! Woohoo!