Archive for the ‘Photowalks’ Category
recognized turnings
Wandering and twirling, evermore.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
No direction home, that’s me. Found this scene on Northern Blvd. somewhere out in Jackson Heights or Woodside… who the hell knows where these neighborhood borders are anymore anyway? Can’t we just have the realtors paint some sort of yellow or orange line delineating the space? What about a sign, which vultures can sit on?
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writhing sharply
Give thanks, or else.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For the holiday weekend, which is ultimately a vestigial harvest festival celebrated by some post industrial nation state that occupies a third of a continent (and militarily speaking- most of the planet- for those extraterrestrials and Otaku who might be reading this), Newtown Pentacle will be in single image mode.
Now, go eat the things you are supposed to, then go do your patriotic duty and shop. Our enemies in east Australasia would prefer if you did nothing instead, and just continued to grow fatter. Your job is to go eat a bird which is native to the continent, so get to it.
The shot above depicts another sort of endemic creature infesting North America, the humble Cormorant, which is lucky enough to not be considered food by the well fed masses.
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retreat directly
Lament, for fresh posts begin anew.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s my curse, I guess. Always an outsider, and asked to leave the room so that the grown ups can talk seriously. Not that another stodgy, labored, and somewhat boring conversation is actually something I’d like to participate in, mind you, but one grows tired of sitting in the cheap seats after awhile and the next person who tells me how shit I am is going to be very, very surprised at what I say back.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One does enjoy watching them gesture and display for each other, as they roil and rumble. Pack mentality rules both canine and primate behavior, presumptively, with both species weeding out their sick or weakened members. Nature of the beast, I guess.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Dispassionate is the way a humble narrator rolls, and my function is as an observer. Look at the lens, not at me, as I’m not here.
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no vision
The Great Machine.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Queensboro, mighty Queensboro. The steel infrastructure of the elevated subways is an add on, which “uglified” up Queens Plaza in a manner which never happened to Fulton Street or Flatbush Avenue. This is another archive shot, by the way. New stuff will resume next week, thanks are offered to you- lords and ladies- for indulging and allowing one such as myself the opportunity to take a breath.
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