Archive for the ‘Pickman’ Category
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?
trembling protest
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just the other day, one was strolling along Jackson Avenue in Long Island City and enjoying the late afternoon haze of auto exhaust when I decided to avoid a group of rough and aggressive looking youngsters by ducking down a dead end called Dutch Kills Street. Haughty and diffident, these unscrupulous looking minors had perhaps reached the third grade, but realizing that they have spent their short lifetime playing violent video games and were therefore potential killers, your humble narrator decided to walk the familiar path of ignominy and hide from them.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Such physical cowardice has often proven to be the better part of valor for one such as myself, a shunned and awkward thing which resembles a man. Dutch Kills Street, where the native art form of Queens (illegal dumping) is practiced wholly, is overflown by structures sprouting out from the Great Machine at nearby Queens Plaza. Vehicular traffic departing and approaching the mighty Queensboro bridge hurtles along overhead, and the street grade lanes end at the fence lines of the titan Sunnyside Yards..
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the end of the street was observed another of the curious shoes which I’ve been noticing scattered around in similarly desolate locales over the last few months. Odd bordering on obsequious, the presence of just one half of the mated pair- again and again- just makes a little bell go off in my head when I see it. It is common to see all sorts of domestic and personal goods scattered about the neighborhoods surrounding the fabled Newtown Creek, but the homogeneity of these singular shoe sightings simply suggests something sinister and suspicious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The rough looking group of third graders had noisily passed the intersection of Jackson and Dutch Kills, heading towards Tower Town down in Hunters Point. They were assembled in a “skirmish line” formation, walking abreast of each other while in the company of a group of women who seemed to have some measure of control over their movements. Some of these women had far younger children with them, who were being transported in bizarre cart like machines- whose appearance I did not like, I should add- which I found disconcerting. Your humble narrator hid behind a pile of trash for awhile, then fled the scene with haste.
small hours
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
No small amount of effort is being expended by your humble narrator these days. The so called Magic Lantern show, a vast and rambling amalgam of photographs and text which attempts to encapsulate the story of a certain Creek, is being rebuilt for 2013. The document has been allowed to swell, in the name of inserting everything learned since its last incarnation was crafted. A positive use of my time, to be sure, but something which is all consuming.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One of my bad habits, or good (depending on your point of view) is “burning the midnight oil”. It is an easy thing for me to lose track of the time, lost in a supernal state of focus on my task, and suddenly realize that the sun is rising. Doing this for a day or two at a time is not that much of a drain, but on a large scale project like the Magic Lantern- this can literally mean weeks lost in a surreal and quite odd personal time zone.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m preparing the document in expectation of a nearby date, one which will be announced here soon, during which I’ll be timorously venturing forth into the new year. The retooled slide show presentation will incorporate much of the “discovery” of 2012 into it, and expand on several sections which time constraints or ignorance made short. More on this next week, at your Newtown Pentacle.
The Newtown Pentacle 