Dragon Spittle
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Everybody, and everything, hates me instinctively and innately on sight.
One has mentioned that cats hiss, dogs squeal, old ladies start to clutch at their purses, and flower blossoms close up as if it’s nighttime as I’m approaching. The human’s eyes grow wide, they scan my hands for possible weaponry, and my intent is often questioned.
I haven’t been chased by a mob of torch bearing commoners to an old mill yet, but I did once get chased by a group of old Greek ladies coming out of St. Irene’s in Astoria who became convinced that the presence of a camera in my hand indicated I was a member of Al Qaeda. True story.
This presumption of ‘stranger danger’ is nothing new to me, as I even used to catch ‘shade’ and suspicion when I was a little kid.
One has never understood this reaction that I engender in the gentry.
I don’t even litter, let alone paint graffiti, or do much more else than just simply walk around with a camera.
One of my little aphorisms demands that I leave behind nothing in my wake but footprints, wherever I go. I famously carry any trash I might generate along my path with me until a proper receptacle is found. I pay my tax, play music at low volumes, drive sanely and more or less within the posted speed restrictions. I’m the guy who’ll call 911 for strangers and wait with them until the ambulance arrives.
Sheesh!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Everybody hates me, on sight, basically.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that most of the people who’ve known me will believe and embrace almost anything negative that’s said, no matter how crazy it sounds. I often have to explain this situation to new people who are entering my sphere, lest they believe me to be a paranoid, or become influenced by the ‘chorus.’
Your humble narrator thereby has to behave in a stiff and curiously upright manner while moving through the world, given that if someone might have said:
‘I saw Mitch – he was wearing a bright yellow bikini while shaving kittens down to skin, and then throwing them into Newtown Creek, after tattooing his ‘effin blog’s logo on them.’ The answer coming back from the receiver of that news would likely be ‘Yeah, I could see him doing that, what a jerk.’
(as a note: there’s no logo for this blog, I’ve never shaved a kitten, wouldn’t know which end of a tattoo machine to use, and the only thing I’ve ever ‘thrown’ into Newtown Creek was the time that I accidentally dropped an air blower from my camera kit on the Grand Street Bridge, and the thing bounced away from me and landed in the drink)
Literally – my whole life. Pariah.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yeah, I know. If something is coming at you from everywhere and everyone, it’s not ‘them,’ it’s you. You’re the commonality.
Bah! Best to retreat to the lonely places, that’s where I belong and where the human infestation is less likely to reach out to touch or hurt me.
I don’t belong in the company of men, the jungle is my home…
A recent walk through one of Pittsburgh’s parks, which is spanned by the Mission Street Bridge, revealed a set of city steps which fall off of it and since I was passing by the very top of that set of steps on this day…
Rooty, rooty, zoot.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Something peculiar was occurring to the steel or iron bannister along these steps. It looked like something was dissolving the metal.
An engineer buddy of mine saw these shots and immediately came back with ‘concrete efflorescence,’ and continued that ‘lime was leaching out of the concrete drips’ and dissolving the metal.
How long has this been going on, and how much longer will it be before somebody decides to blame me for it?
‘Didja hear about Mitch? He’s dissolving metal bannisters in Pittsburgh now, what an icehole… Yeah, I could see him doing that…’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The lower bannister has been severed by this process – wow. Check out that splash on the step – here’s a close up of the splash pile.
My engineer buddy continued on, telling me that this is the same process by which stalagmites and stalactites are formed in caves.
The engineer doesn’t seem to hate me yet, but I’ll just give that one some time. Everyone comes around eventually, to hating me. Apparently, if you haven’t burnt me in effigy yet, you’re missing out.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By the way – I’m not being paranoid or weird here – it’s lived experience.
I’m sort of ok with somebody hating me after they’ve gotten to know me, but the whole hissing cat and ‘shade’ thing from passing strangers just freaks me out.
Back next week with more paranoia – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Hey Now! and then Sterling
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Same old, huh? This shot of CSX #917 was captured at my ‘usual’ spot, nearby that brewery on Pittsburgh’s South Side which I hang around.
Wasn’t out for a walk on this particular evening, rather Our Lady and myself were on our way to a fantastic sushi dinner and had decided to stop off for a quick pint as we were early for the reservation. Birthday.
Saying that, a desire has been building of late in my mind, for the novel.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Nevertheless – exercise day arrived again, and despite my desire to experience something which I hadn’t seen before – one nevertheless returned to Sterling Street’s City Steps – in Pittsburgh’s South Side Slopes section.
This is a particularly long set of City Steps, and as I keep reminding myself – every scuttle doesn’t have to the Odyssey, or be about ‘art.’
Sometimes a walk is just a walk.
I was dropped off by a rideshare car, thereupon my ghastly physical realities oozed from the thing and one puddled up on the street, where I belong. Your humble narrator got organized, straightening out all my bag straps and dangling camera gear, whereupon my feet got down to kicking dirt again.
An infinity of time was not on my menu, as I’d had a fairly busy early morning and there was ‘stuff’ to do in the evening, so only a three to four hour window to wander about was available to me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Stage one of this outing involved Sterling Street’s installation of one of the Pittsburgh’s City Step infrastructure. To the left in the shot above is the extant property of a city park, and within there were a group of people from its ‘friends of’ group planting and caring for trees.
From this POV, it looks like a ‘straight shot’ to the Birmingham Bridge spanning the Monongahela River below, but the relationship between appearances and deception is an old trope.
Especially so in Pittsburgh.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the span – mentioned above – pictured, and it’s dubbed as being the Birmingham Bridge, which is often featured here at Newtown Pentacle as I cross it on foot and also by car frequently.
It was a fairly warm day, but the humidity and breeze were both at comfortable levels, as far a day in late August goes.
The Newtown Pentacle time warp has alleviated slightly as I secretly took a bit of time off at the end of the summer, from all of the writing and photography. Didn’t go anywhere or do anything worth mentioning, but I’m still maintaining my ‘advance padding’ of scheduled posts. These shots were gathered on the 24th of August, and the words were mostly written on the 6th of September. If the scheduling works out as anticipated, you’re seeing this on the 15th of October.
Yes, I’m now six weeks out from publication date. This is not a bad thing, for me at least, but I’ve got to spend some time getting Halloween posts together for spooky season.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking back at where I’d just scuttled…
These long downward courses have absolutely been what the doctor ordered, as far as getting my legs back into shape and reversing the muscular atrophy experienced during the broken ankle interval.
I’m still dealing with muscular and tendon related after effects from that injury, as a note. They said it would take two years or more, for full recovery, at my orthopedist’s office…
Sigh…
As described in the past, the benefit of walking these long downward step courses involves development in the front meat of the thighs and calves, which are otherwise hard muscles to ‘hit.’
The act of walking down these steps, despite the background PTSD I experience (the injury occurred on a set of steps in my house) while scuttling down long courses of rises and runs, also causes the actuation of a bunch of those hidden ‘rubber bands’ found in the foot and ankle which are otherwise calcified, and still stiff from the injury.
I’m all ‘effed up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As you descend, the steps take the form of several homes sidewalks.
I always muse to myself about how difficult it must be to handle the ‘business of life’ here in the South Side Slopes. Food shopping, parking the car, getting a delivery – all must be informed and constrained by this crazy terrain.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Liminal Space overload part 2
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the Pittsburgh Mills Galleria, a fairly empty shopping mall nearby Pittsburgh in Fraser Township, your humble narrator just kept on shooting photos. Our Lady and myself were struck by the surreal neature of the experience in this ‘liminal space.’
As mentioned yesterday, one kept on noticing how ‘maintained’ everything was. Dusted, vacuumed, mopped.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
We had to cancel an outdoor activity – due to high waters on areal waterways, caused by unusual precipitant volumes recently fallen – which promulgated ‘flash flood’ warnings from the authorities. Our initial ‘out of doors’ destination was thereby scrapped, so we visited this place instead.
As often mentioned, I’ve got ‘a list,’ and much of it is already pinpointed on a Google map. Whenever I find myself somewhere unexpectedly with time to kill, I’ll check that map, and see what’s nearby.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I didn’t see any part of Pennsylvania’s anti-vampire systems nearby – no giant white steel crosses on the hillsides, for instance – and wondered if perhaps this place gets real busy at night? Maybe the invasive vampire issue they’re vouchsafing against to the south is related to Maryland, or West Virginia, as you see more of those hillside crosses in that ‘border zone’ than in the northern parts of the region.
Go figure. Meshuggeneh Goyem, huh?
Churches, too, could make great use of the cavernous interior spaces here in this mall. Supposedly, there used to be a Baptist denomination which met up in here somewhere for services, and for some reason I seem to think that it was set up in the former movie theater.
One reads a lot of background stuff before writing one of these posts, some of it gets linked to, and some of it is just absorbed for texture.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Concern began to grow that I had led Our Lady into a hellish maze.
It’s impossible to maintain a sense of ‘where’ you are in relation to the outside world in here. I kept on thinking that we’d make the next turn and see Judas being chewed up in Satan’s mouth, at the deepest levels of Gehenna. I was also worried about a series of Dungeons and Dragons monsters lurking about. Beholders… brr.
What an odd experience.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
We began to near the entrance which brought us into this place, which would provide an exit back to the parking lot where we had stored the Mobile Oppression Platform, a Toyota. Getting here definitely requires a vehicle, although I’m sure that there’s an arcane and kind of weird multi hour route you could use Pittsburgh’s bus system to execute.
All told, this is just under an hour’s drive from HQ in the South Hills region where Newtown Pentacle HQ is found in Dormont.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Regarding the Newtown Pentacle time warp – these shots, and the ones from the Tour-Ed Mine, were gathered on the 14th of August and the text in these posts entered on the 23rd of the same month. As you’re receiving this in middle October, I’ve got a problem emerging.
Not publishing Halloween oriented posts at Christmas.
I’ll figure it out.
Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Liminal Space Overload
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After descending into a coal mine (and museum) in nearby Tarentum, and then having a lovely lunch – as described in prior posts – Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself drove over to the Pittsburgh Mills Galleria, a 2005 vintage shopping mall with quite a tumultuous history.
It was all very, very odd – this visit.
I don’t like or advocate use of the term ‘dead mall,’ as a note. If you were to search on YouTube for this location, you will hear that one a lot in the videos you see. Saying that, I don’t have an alternative terminology to offer, so…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This mall has a long and convoluted history, but it was the dream and life’s work of an entrepreneur named George Damias, and his quite controversial project began in the 1980’s, opening in 2005.
Rather than summarize the Wikipedia entry for you – go get it all right from the horse’s wikimouth here.
It was so odd in there.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The only camera option for this place was to use the widest lens I had in the bag, which was a 16mm prime. The ISO sensitivity was set high, 6400 I think, and the lens’s aperture was set at f4.
There were a few other people present in the mall, but not so many, as there’s just a few smaller shops and office spaces occupied within. We saw maybe twenty or thirty others, all seemingly human.
Allegheny Health Network uses one of the large storefronts here as a school for nursing. There was also an open comic book store and also a snack shop, the kind that sells cotton candy and chocolate coated nuts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Despite the mall being de facto ‘kaput,’ and mostly unoccupied, one thing that just kept on jumping out at me was that this place was being ‘kept’ in a fairly immaculate manner. Somebody is dusting, and mopping those floors, polishing the glass.
That’s the food court pictured, incidentally.
The air conditioning was on, but was set high by shopping mall standard, around 78-80 degrees.
Haven’t spent much time in malls since the late 1980’s, but part of the ‘draw’ for those places always involved the air conditioning. Central and residential AC didn’t become ubiquitous until the last 25 years or so, and ‘back in the day,’ your best bet for staying cool – for free – during the high summer was heading over to a mall (Kings Plaza, in the case of my old neighborhood in Brooklyn) and literally ‘chill out.’
Big deal during the summer, that mall AC was.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I had to inspect the porcelain. There were some plumbing issues going on in there, but again – it’s some random bathroom, in a largely unoccupied shopping mall, and there were paper towels and soap, filled to spec, in their dispensers. It was clean in there.
As mentioned, we did see a few other people while walking this liminal space, whose excess in certain areas lent a sense of bizarre profanity to the experience. Elderly mall walkers were observed, seemingly walking endless circuits through an empty space.
I thought about Dante.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My head is full of ideas for saving these sorts of spaces. I’ve got a scheme in mind that could do it, but that would require some out of the box thinking and a budget, and that’s not something which people out here – or anywhere – are terribly enthusiastic about embracing these days.
Simply, tying these spaces to local agricultural businesses (Pittsburgh is surrounded by rural counties, and smallish family farms) for direct to consumer sales would be a bit difficult to handle, as far as setting things up, but would be a win/win for everyone concerned. Cut the national level AG distributors like Cysco out of the economic loop, so the profit stays with the farmer and the tax money remains local.
The citizenry gains access to local grown food, Wall Street is cut out of the loop, and the Pittsburgh Mills Galleria would have a reason to turn the air conditioning down around 70 degrees again.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Tour-Ed Mine part 2
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A simple fact, known by most photographers, is that the people and particularly the Coal Miners of Appalachia make for absolutely fantastic subjects, when the question of portraiture comes up. As the saying goes – the map of the world is written upon that face.
That’s Bob, a retired coal miner who was our tour guide at the Tour-Ed Mine and Museum, in Allegheny County’s Borough of Tarentum, which can be found after about 40 minute’s worth of highway driving east of Pittsburgh.
Bob was demonstrating how you’d keep the roof from collapsing in on yourself, were you to find yourself working in a coal mine.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m afraid I just have to get used to the presence of LED lighting everywhere, despite the fact that its garish coloration makes everything resemble the 1990 Warren Beatty movie production of ‘Dick Tracy.’
It’d been a while since I executed any low light photography, as a note. Real pleasure to slip back into the groove down here.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Bob demonstrated several of the mechanical tools used in his trade. A sort of rock drill, various systems that moved coal particles along a conveyor belt, a kind of vehicle that replaced the Donkeys which once hauled the mined coal back up to the portal. It was all pretty neat.
And loud, super loud, especially so in the confined spaces when he activated the equipment. Once again, and the third time I’m saying this, I would not have lasted a half hour at this job.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This gizmo was set into the floor, and there was a conveyor belt which moved towards those two lobster claw looking appendages, designed to sweep coal towards the belt, and fall into a chute that went to god knows where.
Wow.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Bob described life on the job to us. He filled us in on how miners communicate in the dusty dark environment, via head motions that move the lanterns on their hats in patterns.
Bob also said this manner of communication got so incorporated into his thoughts that he’d be at home and if his wife asked if he wanted dinner, his answer would often involve him just rotating his head around in a circle so as to say yes.
Bob was very, very good at presenting this material, and it was obvious he’s conducted this tour hundreds of times.
From one guide of unconventional places to another, good show, Bob.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I pulled my usual ‘blind shot’ gambit on the way back to the surface.
Shooting with the camera’s autofocus locked in the dead center of the frame, and hoping for the best. Lots of pictures of motion blurred rocks, but that link will take to iterations of the shots at Flickr if you’re curious.
Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself had a great time here, which we followed up with a pretty nice luncheon at a nearby establishment called ‘JG’s Tarentum Station Grille,’ which is housed in Tarentum’s 1913 vintage former train station.
Good stuff, and Our Lady in particular was pleased indeed.
After lunch, well…
Back tomorrow with all that…
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
