Archive for the ‘Williamsburg Bridge’ Category
alarmed envy
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s important to acknowledge, when viewing a place or person for the final time, the gravity of the moment. I don’t plan on coming back to NYC anytime soon, and by soon I possibly mean “ever.” People have asked – is it the politics? Are you leaving because of rising crime, or the unaffordable cost of living, or what? It’s all of those things, and none of those things. It’s about “Act 3” and wanting something better for Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself in our declining years.
I would mention that this is the second version of this post you’re reading. Version 1 strayed into exactly the sort of soliloquy about NYC that I’ve sworn I wouldn’t write or publish. Suffice to say that New York is a City for the young and wealthy to enjoy and that I’m neither of those things.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Speaking of not being young, all of the exertions of the move to Pittsburgh have taken a toll. Shortly after arriving in Pennsylvania after my twice back and forth 1,600 miles of driving, one contracted a wicked cold with a productive cough (not Covid), and one of the many small wounds on my hands (from carrying boxes, packing boxes, unpacking boxes etc.) has developed a sweet infection. An actual Google search I conducted this morning was “What is Pus”? This led to an interesting internet rabbit hole which included medieval medical thought and theory.
Turns out the stuff is composed of white blood cells and other immune system bits. According to the medical consensus from the days before the germ theory of disease became generally accepted – if it’s white pus, you’re probably going to be ok. Yellow, or green, or god forbid black pus, you likely want to get your self bled by a doctor and do it quick. That’s what the Google tells me, anyway. Luckily, I already unpacked the box that had the Duane Reade triple antibiotic topical goo in it.
Overall, I feel like I got into a bar fight at the moment, and have lost badly to several large and sadistic men. That’s officially the end of me whining about how tired and depleted I feel right now. It’ll be ok in a couple of days. I need a whole lot of regular sleep coupled with proper meals.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the way to Pittsburgh, one drove the Mobile Oppression Platform (my pet name for the car) through some extremely rural areas wherein fealty to a former President – you know, the orange one who tried to overthrow the Government – runs strong. I saw a hand painted sign on a decaying barn along route 28 south that read “Biden bad, he spend you earn, no socialism.” I’m not sure what these people think “socialism” means, nor where they learned basic grammar. Personally, I roll with what the dictionary says words mean, rather than what some bloke with a busted down barn which he’s doing voluntary advertising for a NYC landlord on, alongside a highway in rural Pennsylvania, thinks.
I actually blame the school system’s cowardice, in terms of discussing modern day political issues, for this era we live in. When I was in public school in the 70’s and 80’s, history officially ended at World War 2 since they didn’t want to tread into all of the “controversial Civil Rights or Cold War stuff.” You get the same thing on the other side of the political fence, with a misunderstanding or misrepresentation of the word “socialism” means in particular, but also with popular usage of “progressive” or “liberal.”
Bah!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At any rate, back on the NYC Ferry, which is where I was before I started rambling on about how beat up I am and the weird things I’ve seen here in Pennsylvania – which I’m still working on being able to reliably spell…
My pal Val and I rode the Astoria line of the service to the Pier 11 Wall Street stop over in Lower Manhattan. We had a brief lay over while waiting for the Soundview line boat to arrive. Soundview is a great ride, heading up the west side of the East River towards 34th street, and then past Roosevelt Island where it makes a stop nearby Gracie Mansion at East 90th street. From there it proceeds north through Hells Gate to Bowery Bay and ultimately to Soundview in the Bronx, which is where the footings of the Whitestone and Throgs Neck Bridges sit.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One had timed the trip for late afternoon, hoping to catch some orange and gold light for this – my last ferry ride.
For the journey north, I deployed a long lens which allowed a 70-300 mm zoom range. It’s not my best piece of glass, this unit, but it does allow for a great deal of reach. On the way south, I had used a wider 24-105 mm zoom lens.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The hoped for light show started just as the Soundview bound ferry debarked from Pier 11, as predicted. We were heading north, and this ended up being the last time I’d be seeing or taking a photo of the Manhattan Bridge. Bwah!
More tomorrow, at 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.
ivied antique
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned yesterday, one set the camera up along the Brooklyn waterfront on a warm evening in late March and got busy with the clicking and the whirring.
Special attention was paid to the Brooklyn Bridge, and to the weird lighting which descended on the East River at dusk.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It had been overcast and rain was threatening all day, but once the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself disappeared, the sky was dark but colored with electric blues. This only lasted a few minutes, but wow.
I had been out of sync with the ferry schedule all day, perpetually arriving at a dock just as a ferry was pulling away from it. Given that it was growing late, I intended on being on time for the boat that would be visiting this particular stop nearby Fulton Landing before heading north on the river towards Long Island City.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While waiting for the boat to arrive, I converted the operation away from its “landscape/tripod” configuration over to the “handheld/low light” one. I’ve described this in the past, it’s mainly swapping out certain lenses for other ones and safely tying off the tripod onto my knapsack.
The boat arrived, I flashed the ticket on my phone to the deckhand, and soon I was snugly ensconced on the NYC Ferry heading north.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
If you haven’t ridden the ferry at night… well, I don’t care, you should get out more and watch less television.
The real world is so much more interesting than fiction, if you ask me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Last stop before Long Island City’s “LIC Landing” stop is 34th street in Manhattan, where you get to see the shot above.
What is it with all the people who move into the newly constructed condos along the East River who don’t seem to have drapes, curtains, or Venetian blinds? Conspicuously consume much, you oligarchic fucks?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Speaking of no drapes, I wonder if they don’t have carpets either (drum shot, please). As you might be able to discern right now, I’m just dripping with sarcasm and hatred at the moment. Something about edging towards a Civil War in a country that’s as armed to the teeth as we are just sets me off.
More tomorrow.
“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.
nameless summit
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator is continuing his short break from normal posts this week, and single shots from the archives will be presented.
Pictured above is the WIlliamsburg Bridge, shot back in 2017.
“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.
misty downlands
Merry merry.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator is taking this week and the first half of next off, so singular images will be greeting you through the week. Have a joylessly laconic Festivus, a Merry Christmas, and a Kwazy Kwanzaa.
Be back on the 27th to finish up the year at this. your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
contradictory reports
I haven’t seen daylight for a while now.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The burning thermonuclear eye of God itself hanging in the sky seems to no longer be a prerequisite for a humble narrator to get busy, huh? Darkness has always been my preference, as a note, which is why one greedily clutched at opportunities to work night shifts in the salt mines of the advertising industry over the years.
I’m not a morning person. I am a mourning person, but that’s another story.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned last week, my infinitely winding pathway towards dissolution and an unhappy ending found one wandering along the coastline of the shining city of Manhattan with camera in hand recently. It was quite a chilly night, and the filthy black raincoat was fastened tightly against atmospheric entropy. I’ve always been a believer that he’ll isn’t hot, instead it’s freezing cold, and that there are probably cynical efforts underway to build “affordable housing” underway all across the landscape of the Fimbulvetr.
According to Crains, Gehenna is the next up and coming neighborhood in Brooklyn, and there are serious real estate opportunities for the early investor. Follow the artists, they say.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the Williamsburg Bridge as seen from Corlears Hook, looking towards the realized dreams of avarice over in Brooklyn. I could not help but muse, as the camera did its work, how visiting this spot during the 1980’s at night would have been an akin to visiting a war zone and a serious risk to life and limb. The cops would have just been shaking their heads while staring at your shattered form, wondering why somebody would have been stupid enough to think they wouldn’t get jumped coming here at night with a camera. Alphabet City, that’s what it was called, the extreme east side of the City between Delancey and 14th streets.
As we used to say: Avenue A? Ay, you’ll be ok. B? Better be careful. C? Can’t go there. Avenue D? The “D” is for dead.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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