Archives #004
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Continuing with the archives posts today, due to a humble narrator’s broken ankle dealie. I screwed up the whole date thing yesterday, thinking that it was the 11th rather than the 9th, so there you go as far as a window into how messed up my brain is at the moment.
This post from 2013 details an art project on the old Mobil refinery site in Greenpoint, designed and executed by Jan Mun and Jason Sinopoli in partnership with ExxonMobil. Miss those days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve grown bored with the Police body cam footage thing, and am honing my list of ‘20 things not to do when the Cops show up’ list for future dissemination. #3 is ‘not threatening to track them down and rape their families when you get out of jail.’ The Cops react badly to that one.
Compositional magic in photos? Umbrellas are discussed in this context in this post from 2018.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Seeing my beloved Creek in these photos really grinds as -surprise- I was scheduled to be back home for a few days next week. Had plane tix and everything. Best laid plans and all that, huh?
Here’s a few shots from Newtown Creek in this 2019 post,
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Archives #003
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Day #3 of archive posts arrives here at Newtown Pentacle, as your humble narrator continues to recover from a broken ankle. As mentioned previously, I’m pulling forgotten posts from prior years out of the dustbin. These were all published, on this date, sometime between 2009 and 2024.
On October 11th, in 2012, this post offered observations on a ritual site that was discovered in LIC’s Calvary Cemetery. This particular ritual site, on a hidden hill, was regularly inspected during my walks through the polyandrion.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m happy about one thing, though, which is that I’m not in that walk up apartment back in Astoria during this ordeal. This whole experience would have been a hundred times worse in NYC. When the ambulance brought me into the ER here in Pittsburgh, I was immediately taken care of and didn’t have to wait my turn on a gurney in some hallway for hours and hours, which is common experience back in NYC.
Thought viruses, transmitted by written words, which can only infect the literate? This concept was pondered back in 2016 in this post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Every day there’s a bit of improvement to my situation. I’m sleeping fairly well, despite not having anything to feel tired about, as I’m sitting all day long. I long for a walk, to feel the radiates of the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself striking my skinvelope, waving the camera around as I go. Hell… I’d be happy just to be cleared to drive again.
This post from 2021 and it is the conclusion of a ‘72 hour’ series captured in Vermont’s Burlington. Whereas I didn’t discuss it publicly, the decision to move out of NYC had already been made, and this was a ‘first interview’ for what turned out to be my second choice for where to flee.
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Archives #002
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Day two of archive posts greets you, lords and ladies, as your broken but still humble narrator recovers from a fairly severe fracture of multiple bones in the ankle. My life at the moment isn’t much fun, and I’m sitting down all the time – which is anathema to one such as myself. It’s a bit like that Hitchcock movie ‘Rear Window’ here around HQ.
On this date in 2019, this post was published here, describing a minor adventure wherein I was riding on an all electric boat, and spotted the USCGC Katherine Walker anchored on the East River.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Thankfully, I don’t require the pain dulling medications anymore, which introduced a fog of narcotic haze into my thoughts. Attention spans of less than 10-15 minutes on that stuff. It’s good to be able to mentally focus again, although I’m still a little drug drunk after two weeks of opioids. Hangovers, amirite?
2018’s October 8 post was focused on me getting back to Astoria and negotiating one of MTA’s meltdowns, while needing to poop. I’ll point out that NYC isn’t a ‘City of Yes,’ it’s the city of ‘No, there aren’t any public toilets.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Trouble I’m having right now is how to occupy my mind. Boring, boring. I’ve found myself watching hour after hour of Police body cam videos, and can advise the citizenry on roughly 20 things not to do when the Cops show up. You don’t want to set the Cops off with #7 – spitting – for instance.
One of my tricks to avoid the madness of isolation during the pandemic months was to go ride the NYC Ferry, as described in this post from 2020.
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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.
Archival offerings
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Well, here we are.
Recovery from the broken ankle and the concurrent surgery has been pretty rough. A humble narrator has been staring out through a mask of painkillers and a narcotic fog. Luckily, the prescribed course of opioids has ended and it’s just Tylenol at this stage, so my brain is beginning to go ‘normal,’ or at least as close to normal as I get, again. Saying all that, I’m still sitting in a wheelchair as you’re receiving this, and won’t be getting out and about with the camera for quite a while. Luckily, I’ve been updating and posting here at Newtown Pentacle since 2009, so there’s lots of buried archival posts to re-present. My conceit will be calendrical, and you’ll see call backs to something published on ‘this date in XXXX.’
This post from 2012, for instance, contains a series of ‘odds and ends’ photos from the Manhattan Bridge Centennial event which I was a NYC Parade Marshal for. How about that?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The pain side of the ankle injury, at the moment, has nothing to do with the broken bones. According to the X-Rays, everything within the limb is proceeding according to the surgeon’s plan. There’s screws and a bracket – all kinds of stuff – holding my broken bones together. The main source of discomfort is actually found on the surface of the foot, where a ghastly looking series of wounds from the clamping down of my foot during the surgical procedure are afflicting the skin. Feels like a burn.
This one is from 2021, and depicts a trip to Vermont’s Burlington. Burlington was our #2 choice for where to move to – post COVID – but the ferocity of the winter up there made the choice for Pittsburgh obvious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m still on the disabled list, and for a while, it looks like. Can’t drive, as I honestly have no idea how I’d get in and out of the car, and the opiates are still in my system despite not taking them for a few days now, so I don’t exactly trust my spatial perceptions at the moment.
I’m going to try and get the schedule restarted up here again this week, since it at least gives me a focus beyond this nightmare. Can’t promise anything like dailies right now, but I’m going to try.
Finally, here’s one from 2022, depicting a boat ride here in Pittsburgh.
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Here’s the scoop
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Written from a wheel chair – So… last week, your humble narrator was locking down the house in preparation of going to bed. Our Lady, and Moe the Dog, had already retreated from consciousness but I’m a night owl and had been watching some meaningless television show before surrendering to biology. Little did I know that my particular biological function would soon become quite the topic of conversation moving forward.
While watching said televisual presentation, I realized that I had left my phone on the office desk found downstairs. Cursing, as I had already locked the door leading down to ‘the engine room,’ your humble narrator stepped onto one of two short flights of steps leading downstairs, separated by a landing.
My left foot lowered onto the second to last of the lower steps, which ended up being a pretty important moment, lifestyle wise.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My ankle rolled, and then I went tumbling forward in space. For a split second, I saw the top of my knee and the sole of my foot at the same time, as I pitched forward. I fell into a roll, at which point I saw my left foot turned opposite the direction it was pointing at just a second or two previously, and a loud cracking/popping sound was heard.
I landed on my side, rolling with the momentum. A loud ‘gahhh’ sound erupted from your humble narrator, and pain blossomed. Now, I’ve been hurt a lot over the years, and even had a heart attack once.
Nothing in my experience, however, has been as painful as – or compares – to this moment.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Instantly, shock set in. Perspiration coated the skin, my breathing assumed a quick and staccato rythym, and I reached down to grasp at my left ankle and foot. Upon doing so, the foot made a grinding/clicking sound. Agony ensued, and I sat there for a moment holding my ankle – which was also making a similar but separate grinding and clicking sound. That’s when I noticed that the ankle bone, which has historically occupied the interior side of my calf, was bulging out from the front of the shin.
It took about two or three minutes to gather myself and soon I was shouting upstairs at Our Lady for help. She arrived quickly, and upon assessing my appearance asked if we needed to call 911. My answer was yes, and after placing the call so she gathered up some personal items I’d need for a trip to an emergency department at some nearby hospital. Wallet, etc.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An ambulance arrived, and then two EMS medics entered the house. They instantly assessed my situation as serious and stoutly carried me onto a stretcher, and into their Ambulance. On the way, a hypodermic of Morphine was injected into my arm, and a field dressing splint installed onto my ankle. My foot hung loosely during this, in the manner of a sock filled with a ham sandwich, and the splint ameliorated the painful side to side shaking of the thing as the Ambulance sped to the hospital.
We arrived at the hospital, and I was transferred via back board to a hospital bed within. I was soon in a ‘room’ in the Emergency ward, and an X-Ray technician appeared with a portable examination unit. Things get hazy around here, due to all the medical grade drugs in me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A diagnosis was soon pronounced, and the injury was described as being a Trimalleolar fracture with dislocation. The ankle bones which protrude into the skin on both sides of the joint were now free floating, and a third bone in the foot was also fractured. The foot itself was dislocated from the joining with the leg bones of the calf. Surgery would provide the only fix, but that wouldn’t happen until the next day.
This is when they switched me off of Morphine and over to medical Fentanyl to control the pain. Before this journey through the operating room and back to HQ would be completed – Dilaudid, Ketamine, and eventually OxyContin were added to my list of drugs I’ve taken but never wanted to experience.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Surgery took around three hours, I’m told, but it’s all a haze. Recovery will take – at a minimum – six months, but it could stretch out as long as two years depending on circumstances. Obviously, I won’t be taking any walks – short or long – for a long time. What about this here Newtown Pentacle, then?
My plan for the interim is to link back into the extensive archives of past posts published here. The conceit I’m planning in terms of choosing these posts will be calendrical in nature. Three past posts chosen from a given day/month which match up with whatever the new post’s publication date is.
Thereby you’ll be seeing a lot of Newtown Creek, Queens, and NY Harbor stuff here again. I’m going to try and maintain my regular publishing schedule this way while I get back onto my foot, and I hope y’all will stay with me through this trial – something which I have no choice but to endure. I’ll try for five days a week, but cannot make any promises at the moment.
Back tomorrow – hopefully.
“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.
The Newtown Pentacle 