defeated aspirations
It’s National Roast Suckling Pig Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The other night, I mentioned to a friend that I had no reason to get up in the morning, and he inquired as to whether or not I was depressed. My statement had nothing to do with mood or mental state, instead it was factual – my daytime calendar is fairly empty between the first week of December and middle January. Part of this is my peculiar vulnerability to cold weather which necessitates a certain amount of hermitage, another part of it is that this is the time of the year when I’m hitting the books and doing research into this or that, and working on presentation materials (working on the 2018 photo portfolio, me). This has really hampered photo gathering – as a note – which is a negative, but I’ve got to get my house of cards together for the new year. You’re only as good as the last provable shutter flop.
Since I don’t have to necessarily be “somewhere” at 8 in the morning most days, what’s the point of maintaining a farcical kabuki and simulating adherence to the “ole nine to five”? I’m often up at the hour of the wolf this time of the year. If you’re sacking out at four or five in the morning, you ain’t getting up at seven, if you know what I’m saying.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One thing that’s emerged in my searching through multiple archives of photos, which number in the tens of thousands at this point, is that I seem to have fallen into a bit of a rut over the last year and a half. The other is that a bunch of my friends have died along the way. There’s a few long term projects which will be reaching fruition in the next twenty four months, and the stuff generated by this “rut” has become noticeably more refined, but it seems I need to get out more. That’s my New Years resolution, by the way.
“I been everywhere, man” is a bit of generalization and I certainly haven’t been “everywhere.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As is my annual habit, I plan to wallow in laziness and turpitude for another couple of weeks and get it out of my system. By the new year, boredom and self hatred will have expanded sufficiently to force me into action. Some pedantic and utterly banal explosion of activity inspired by Marcus Aurelius will form up and despite my ennui – me and the camera are going to be “out there” every single day.
For now, though, I still don’t have much of a reason to wake up in the mornings.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
festering wounds
It’s National Cupcake Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Stop, listen, and look. That’s what I try to do whilst moving about the world, with the occasional “sniff” thrown in as well. Stunning to me is the fact that so few actually monitor their environs as they navigate the great urban hive these days, with their mental focus zeroed in on the little rectangles of glowing glass we all carry. This has been a growing issue for years, but of late, I’ve noticed people intently watching television shows on their devices while walking along and crossing the streets of New York City.
What is wrong with all of us?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Caution is something one urges, constantly. Pay attention to your surroundings. Not paying attention is how we’ve arrived at this societal crossroad, and I fear that while somebody is catching up on “Breaking Bad” they will miss the freight train barreling right towards them.
Citizen Mitch despairs.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Go. Outside. Talk to people. Put the device down for a few minutes and let yourself feel things. I know it’s scary.
Just do it.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
sickly complected
It’s National Bouillabaisse Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cliché, a “New Yorkers walking through steam boiling out of a lower Manhattan street grate” shot is presented above. Often, whilst moving around the City, one is confronted with imagery like this. It’s a shot which people far more talented and technically adept than I have taken a thousand thousand times before, and there’s little point to adding another specimen of it to the visual lexicon but there you are. Same thing with seeing a squirrel eating an acorn while perched on a fence or something. You just have to click the shutter.
This time of year, I don’t have much going on anyway, might as well take what the City offers you when it comes along.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Often has a humble narrator asserted that NYC is embedded with psychic firmament, and that the city itself is somewhat sentient – a “being” possessed of a seething cauldron of emotions and a radiant intellect. I believe the City to be female in gender and temperament – a mother goddess like the Hellenic “Hera.” She likes to mess with you, throwing pedantic and existential obstacles or tests your way, the city does.
“Oh great” usually precedes many of my observations concerning the MTA, or the sudden appearance of any number of City agency or utility employees on my block. “Oh great, Verizon is setting up on my corner at midnight. And, they’ve got a backhoe with them…” is the last one I can recall uttering. Occasionally it will be stated as “Wow, there’s a lot of Cops here all of a sudden.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Thing is, the City is eternal. Long after the American experiment has faded away, New York City will still live on in some sort of decedent form. Cities almost always seem to live on in one form or another long after the Empire has fallen; Rome, Memphis, London, Istanbul, Beijing, Persepolis, Tokyo, Damascus… Babylon the great always falls. A certain point of view often comes up in modern conversations which looks back to a period just one century ago in NYC as some sort of heroic age. Giants existed, who built subways and great bridges and highways and tunnels. These giants are long gone, and we marvel at their works, which we lesser beings are barely able to maintain.
What do I know? I’m just some wandering mendicant in a filthy black raincoat, scuttling along the streets of an eternal elder goddess/City which is possessed of a malefic sense of humor, carrying a camera.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
photostatic copy
It’s National Hot Cocoa Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It is quite amazing, really, the stuff you find scattered around the streets of Western Queens. Intentionally castoff manufactured items, or simply lost ones, abound. Recent effort found one wandering home via Sunnyside and this anamorphic headgear was simply staring me down as I approached.
Can’t blame it, I mean… look at me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the same day, this little assortment was encountered. This is clearly NOT the work of the Queens Cobbler, a local serial killer who leaves behind single shoe totems to mark their ghastly activities, as the shoes are in a pair and the Cobbler has never been known to leave behind kitchenware.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Captured a few weeks ago, the shot above does seem to bear all the evidentiary trademarks of the Queens Cobbler, however.
Someday, the Cops will batter down a storage room gate somewhere in LIC and find the lair of this footwear obsessed predator.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
sinister matters
It’s National Ambrosia Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just a single shot today, depicting the most photogenic of NYC’s Subway lines entering the Queensboro Plaza station in LIC.
Tomorrow night, at Jackson’s Eatery Bar in LIC (which sits atop the Vernon Jackson stop of the 7 line at 10-37 Jackson Ave, Long Island City, NY 11101), Newtown Creek Alliance’s holiday party will occur between 6 and 8:30 p.m. Come with?
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
The Newtown Pentacle 