Archive for December 9th, 2025
Many, many, ramps
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This particular scuttle, here in Pittsburgh, began with a ride on the T light rail. The plan, as it were, was simple – and involved a walk of about three to five miles. Your humble narrator was fully ‘kitted out’ camera wise, and the weather was somewhat chilly and rain was threatening.
Misty, it was, misty.
The T light rail was ridden all the way to its terminal stop on Pittsburgh’s North Shore. There’s a shot I wanted, one which hadn’t coalesced the last time that my presence was noticed in this area. Pictured is what it looks like when riding the service. The area that the rail unit was moving through in this shot was one of the busways, one which also has rails and catenary wires.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The T soon deposited me on the North Shore elevated platform that functions as a terminal stop, and after a quick adjust of all the straps and whatnot involving the camera and bag, one leaned into it. I was ‘wearing’ the camera under the filthy black raincoat in case it started raining, a long standing habit which started back on the deck of vessels in New York Harbor, all those years ago.
One descended down to the street, where he belongs.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This area directly touches the football stadium where the Steelers dwell, and it’s sacred ground in Pittsburgh. Said holy spot is to the right.
A maelstrom of black fabric whipping about in the breeze, wrapping itself about a decaying human husk, wherein my brain inhabits, one began his fitful imposture of human locomotion and attempted to blend into the background.
This isn’t always possible, given how children point and cry when I’m passing by. Old Ladies clutch at their purses, men start forming violent posses, dogs howl. Cats are indifferent. Always, an outsider.
Thump, drag, thump, drag… that’s my walking rythym these days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One cannot complain. Last year, it was questionable how much mobility I might have after the shattering of my left ankle. It has been an act of pure will (along with the attention and the expertise of a team of medical professionals) to get back to ‘doing my thing.’
What is ‘my thing’? Why is it ‘my thing’? Where do I go to do ‘my thing’? Is it just wandering aimlessly, or…? How is…
Best not to ponder such esoteric concepts and motivations, as the only ideation that really matters is to remain in constant motion, and enjoy the consequent unstoppability. Juggernaut, that’s the word you’re looking for.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One feels like a corner has been turned quite recently, and aspirational thoughts have been blossoming. Ambitions, goals, all that crap.
A Jedi craves not these things.
Thump, drag, thump, drag…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the Merchant Street Bridge, which was described in a prior post.
Thump, drag, thump, drag…
The mists then began to slightly precipitate. Wasn’t ‘umbrella rain,’ instead it was just a fine layer of droplets suspended above ground level. Very atmospheric, but had to clean the lens of moisture often.
Back tomorrow.
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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.
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