Archive for January 2013
grisly alliance
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Omens abound, here in the Newtown Pentacle, if only one is sensitive enough to notice their presence. It is not enough to merely cast off the callous of vision which develops during repetitions of the daily round, instead one must listen carefully to the suffering land of Queens which bears the terrible burdens of historical indignity and modern aspiration. Somewhere beneath the concrete devastations of industry and the vainglory of the urban planners exists a variegated and buried wetland.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Once- salt meadows blessed with endless acres of coastal grass swayed in the Newtown breeze beneath the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself here, nourishing and maintaining a vast ecosystem. Birds existed in numbers great enough to blot out the sky, and the shallow streams and ponds sustained a teeming population of fish and invertebrates. When the Dutch came, they saw naught but swamps, and their English successors applied the term “Waste Meadows” to the place. It wasn’t until the period between the American Civil war in the 1860’s and the early 20th century, via the practice of landfill, that the area was fully opened for exploitation.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This unfortunate avian, observed alongside the Sunnyside yard, would be viewed by the dross masses as merely another casualty of the modern age. Your humble narrator, with his eyes dilated by the absence of sleep and the concurrent intoxication of caffeine, sees dire portent instead. Mesmerized Valdemar, whom Poe described, might be able to offer some compact meaning to such omens- but one as wholly inadequate as myself is unfortunately incapable of such interpretation.
otherwise unnavigable
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
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– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the top of a fifty three story sapphire dagger plunged into the neck of a Long Island dwells an impossible thing gazing down upon the human hive via a three lobed burning eye, except that such a thing cannot possibly exist and to suggest so is madness. How could an intelligence of malign intent exist in bodiless form, and be granted the rights and privileges of citizenship with few of the obligations concurrent with such status?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An ancient path, Jackson Avenue was once a trade route connecting the grist mills and farmlands further east with the docks and wharves to the west that allowed local merchants to trade with other cities along the East River. Over the years, it has seen mule paths give way to wagon, and street car, and eventually automotive traffic. Its purpose in modernity is unclear, a secondary truck route which allows passage from Queens Plaza to Hunters Point and the Pulaski Bridge, or a residential corridor destined for bistros and cultural institutions?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A recent surge of building activity in the area has forced your humble narrator to consider that a bit more time must be spent here in Long Island City this year, an area which had fallen off my radar a bit in the last year. Inattention had little to do with a lack of interest, instead my time was spent “working” the zones found along Newtown Creek in Maspeth and Bushwick, two other colonial era centers seldom mentioned by the “manhattancentric crowd.”
learnt tongue
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly downtrodden, your humble narrator suffers from his own company. Often has one been told that he is best taken in limited dosages, but for me there is no escape, and I am forced to live with myself. Like a canine with too much zeal, accordingly, efforts are made to tire myself out on long walks in an effort to save the furniture from being chewed on. Recent endeavor carried me through Long Island City on a particular and brightly lit day.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly erected by the scions of the Real Estate Industrial Complex, the glass and steel horrors which loom like Polyphemus over the ancient buildings of the neighborhood nevertheless act as reflectors and illuminate the shadowy warrens of a post industrial landscape. Refraction and specular effects throw arcs of cold light about which change by the minute.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly envisioned, the master plan for this part of the universe demands that these towers shall rise to challenge the clouds. Someday, perhaps only a decade away, the sky will be occluded by these oblique residential boxes of glass. When the shadow falls, and a permanent pall overlies the ancient streets of Western Queens, where will one bathe in the light of the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself? What succor will there be found in Long Island City save that of artisanal baked goods and from the purveyors of craft beers?
caravan route
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
From the 2010 archives emerge these shots, depicting employees of the estimable Moran company displaying their knowledge of applied physics.
The two tugs, Turecamo Girls and Marie J. Turecamo, work in concert against the tidal forces of the East River and the inertia of a loaded cargo ship. The mathematics of what is going on in these photos would be staggering to work out, but the Tug crews prefer not to over think things and “just get it done”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Maritime professionals live in a somewhat four dimensional world. It’s not necessarily about the “X, Y, and Z” axes of your current position, rather its how those three factors will contribute to your situation as you move through space over time. Where you’re headed and how fast you are moving is rather more important than where you are now. As mentioned above- applied physics.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Imagine it, coordinating the position of hundreds of tons of steel blindly, as it is simultaneously affected by tide and wind. Your goal is to move the thing into a precise position with a tolerance of less than a foot or two of the dock, and the effort needs to be seamlessly performed not just by you but by a partner vessel working in concert. This maritime sunday, your humble narrator is overwhelmed just thinking about the calculations of the forces at work.
Project Firebox 54
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cruelly grafiti’d, the sentinel stands on the corner of Van Dam and Hunters Point in Queens. It witnesses thousands passing by daily in motor vehicular transit. How many in turn acknowledge it?
The Newtown Pentacle 