Posts Tagged ‘Long Island City’
brushed boldly
Industrial zones and pandemics, a natural combination.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The long walks I take often end up taking me to lonely and deserted places wherein the only other inhabitants of the local vicinity are the drivers and passengers of passing motor vehicles. Now, more than ever, my footfalls lead me and the camera to uninhabited places. There’s a section of Long Island City, west of Sunnyside and north of Blissville, which I’ve always found visually interesting. The land slopes down towards the Dutch Kills Tributary of Newtown Creek, affording one interesting views and an easy perambulation. You’ve always got a real sense of vulnerability here, but intellectually know that at any given moment you’re on half a dozen CCTV security cameras and that there’s a sleep deprived night watchman watching you and hoping that they don’t have to get up and yell at you to stop doing something they are supposed to police. I never trespass, and graffiti ain’t my bag, so…
This section of LIC is interesting in terms of the utilitarian architecture encountered here, some of which is actually quite fetching, but I like a good warehouse or factory.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Pictured above is a nicely maintained structure found at the corner of 48th Avenue and 34th street, which is currently on sale – based on the Realtor’s banner signage hung on its wall. The 4 story building sits in an M2 industrial zone, hosts 141,000 square feet within its walls, and was erected in 1926 (altered and upgraded in 2013). A little detective work reveals that prior to the renaming of streets and avenues in Queens – and LIC in particular – back in the first half of the 20th century (which happened twice, and is very confusing) 48th Avenue was called “Anable Avenue” and that the factory pictured above was the home of the Morganite Brush Company. Here’s one of their advertisements.
Apparently, Morganite Brush (they’re still around, but call themselves Morgan Advanced Materials these days, and seem to do business from the American South East) manufactured electrical components called “carbon brushes” here. Not wanting to research and write a dissertation on carbon brushes, a quick call to my pal Hank the Elevator guy reveals that “it’s a moving component that supplies voltage to motors” and that he replaces a lot of brushes in the elevator motors he maintains as part of his daily round. Suddenly, the existing modern day profusion of elevator industry supply warehouses and maintenance companies in this section of LIC makes all the sense in the world to me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned, one wasn’t really thinking about a destination and was just following the direction which my toes were pointing towards, while trying to consciously stop myself from wandering anywhere close to congregations of the humans. As is always the case with me, I’d eventually end up at Newtown Creek or one of its tributaries on this particular walk, which you’ve probably guessed by now. Along the way, photos were gathered.
One thing which has really taken my notice is how clean the sidewalks and gutters have become with all of us sequestered away in our hidey holes. Have to figure that the rats and pigeons must be wondering where all the free food has gone.
Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next couple of weeks at the start of the week of Monday, March 16th. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates as we move into April and beyond, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.
“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.
swaggered boldly
Hiding, dodging, weaving.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My carefully chosen route through the human infestation of Western Queens on a recent evening, a path which was chosen for its probable lack of inhabitants, nevertheless brought me into near contact with the other primates. Given that one such as myself fears others, without delimiting criteria involving their interior microbial population, avoidance of any sort of human interaction is definitively part of my skill set. Despite this, other hardy adventurers were out and about whom a humble narrator afforded a wide berth. In the shot above, captured on 43rd Avenue in LIC, I had spotted a bicycle rider approaching from about three blocks away and flung myself against that brick wall you see.
Luckily, the filthy black raincoat is adaptive for use as urban camouflage. The bicyclist probably perceived a filthy black bag of squirming rats out of the corner of his eye. What? You’ve never encountered a bag of rats? Well, what do you transport your rats in, a box? Wait… I’ve said too much again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A rough looking passerby was silhouetted in the distance as my roadway interface scuttled along the pavement, and soon I found myself crouched down behind a garbage bin. Whomsoever left this handy hiding place in the middle of the sidewalk for me to cower behind has my thanks.
While crying for a few minutes as the stress chemicals bled out of the brain and spinal column, a humble narrator began to reconsider his various choices in life.
Regret at having not pursued an interest in product photography, or perhaps macro studio work, gnawed. From behind me came the sound of sneakers shuffling across the diseased cement, and yet another eidolon of “stranger danger” – likely cloaked in a rich cloud of microscopic predators – was turning the corner.
All that fellow was allowed to perceive of me likely appeared to him as a hurtling black shape moving spasmodically away at untold thousands of inches an hour towards Queens Blvd. while uttering a terrorized sound not unlike that of a burning duck mixed with the cry of a newborn goat.
In other words, a black bag of rats with a bunch of camera gear.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My escape path was arrested by an uncaring traffic signal at Queens Boulevard, the legendary “Boulevard of Death” itself. There did one encounter a sparse amount of passing automotive traffic, and eventually egress to the southern side of this “Via Mortis,” or the “ölim bwlvarı” as you would say in the Kazakh tongue or “leofóros tou thanátou” in modern Greek, was accomplished.
One was sure he could feel the pinpricks of Corona viruses bouncing off his face, a deadly series of plasmic projectiles carried upon the easterly wind. That’s what I thought at first, but luckily it was just some disgusting rain water dripping out of the elevated 7 line tracks overhead.
People, people!
Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next couple of weeks at the start of the week of Monday, March 16th. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates as we move into April and beyond, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.
“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.
coherent thought
Combination punches are what make a great fighter, and a deadly virus.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One is forced to continue his incessant marching about, as my very existence is predicated upon regular “cardio” without which my veins and arteries will become plugged up. In accordance with quarantine rules, I’m only leaving the house when the streets will be absolutely deserted. Luckily, I favor lonely paths, enjoy the concrete devastations, and am also a bit of a night owl under best circumstance. Recent endeavor found one wandering through Long Island City on my way to Newtown Creek on a Saturday night. I know how to party.
That’s Skillman Avenue pictured above. Somehow, all the arguing and gnashing of teeth over that bike lane seems pretty silly now, doesn’t it?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
LIC is still home to several yellow cab fleets. These pictures were gathered on a Saturday night, and seemingly all of the yellow cabs operated by this particular outfit were sitting parked and empty. Already in serious trouble due to a changing economy and the rapacious greed of both medallion brokers and the City’s “TLC,” I don’t know if the yellow cab side of the “for hire vehicle” segment is going to survive this quarantine.
There’s a lot of people I know who work in the so called “gig” economy who are experiencing total unemployment and impoverishment already. Personally speaking, there is going to zero demand for any sort of walking or boat tour until at least July, and that’s presuming that things are normal again by then, so I’m actually one of the aforementioned “screwed” as well. Lots of belt tightening is underway at HQ, and my goal of buying a new camera body at the end of the year is pretty much kaput.
Saying that, I’m hoping to just not get sick and die right now, so if I manage that, it’ll soften the blow about the camera. ‘Life and death” versus “things you’d want debates”… so very American of me, huh?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I do have a bit of sympathy for the cab drivers, as a note. A humble narrator makes it a point of talking to cab drivers, whereas a lot of folks don’t bother. One is often interested in the points of view offered by the mostly immigrant drivers, some of whom are surprisingly well educated and interesting people working at their first job in the U.S. and are just making ends meet by working in this particular trade. Others are knuckleheads and bad conversationalists.
One of the things I observed while wandering around that night was that the ethnic restaurants were empty, while bars and other restaurants were packed. This was on Saturday the 14th, as a note. When I say “ethnic restaurants” I don’t mean the kind that cater to the general population, rather ones which people of that restaurants actual ethnic culture or community frequent – the Comida Typica’s or Greek Tavernas or the Colombian steak and egg joints.
Of course, on this evening restaurants and bars were still open.
Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next couple of weeks at the start of the week of Monday, March 16th. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates as we move into April and beyond, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.
“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.
pitiable tones
My Creek always welcomes my triskaidekaphobia.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Shlep, shlep, shlep. That’s my game. As an old Christmas cartoon used to musically opine – “put one foot in front of the other, and soon you’ll be walking out the door.” Why it is that when I leave the house I inevitably end up in places like this is somewhat mysterious. What draws a creature like me out into the public sphere in the first place, as I belong in a catacomb or dungeon awaiting unwary travelers like some great spider? All interaction with others is strained and painful for me. My countenance causes children to cry, dogs to yelp, and induces startled reactions from adults. When I begin to speak, the croaking notes and gurgling exhalations are often described as being scented by and carried aloft on a bilious breeze. If I could get away with it, I’d wear naught but prophet’s robes, but come close with the filthy black raincoat and hooded black sweatshirt. Every now and then I catch a reflection of myself in a shop window and even I’m scared at what I see.
I’ve arrived at an age where pieces are about to start falling off as if I’m some sort of a biblical leper. Truly objectionable am I, ask anyone. God hates me, but to be fair, that’s probably my fault.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
People have always enjoyed making an example of me, or holding me to a higher standard than others despite my low social status. As a child, I’d be sitting in a school auditorium reading a book quietly while my classmates were all acting like irradiated monkeys and pyromaniacs. The Principal would surmount the stage and scream “WAXMAN” into the loudspeaker, whereupon my daily humiliations would resume.
I can’t help it that I stand out. I was born this way. These experiences, and many more, have caused me to become quite “vengeance” based in my thinking. I’m going to make the world pay, and pay dearly, for what’s been done to me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My beloved Newtown Creek is the same way – reviled, ruined, lonely, lost. She and I have an understanding with each other, and since we are kindred spirits, the Creek never disappoints when I’m visiting. I feel like I should throw in a “verily” here.
Look at my sweetie, the way she opened the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge for me just as I happened to be passing by. She’s a good old girl, the Newtown Creek.
Enjoy your Friday the 13th, lords and ladies, especially so since there’s a full moon tonight. As a note, Sunday marks the “ide of March” as well as being National Egg Cream day.
“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.
altered youth
Like every other piece of wind blown trash, I always end up at Newtown Creek.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
God, how I love it so – the wastelands of Long Island City at night. One can just let it all hang out, laugh maniacally without scaring the neighbors, and embrace the dissolution and horror of it all here at the titular center of the great urban hive. The Coronavirus wouldn’t last two seconds around here, as far nastier and better established pathogens would beat the crap out of the newcomer. Hand sanitizer? Look where I like to hang out on a Saturday night. Hand sanitizer would bubble, boil, and froth if you poured it on the sidewalk here in Blissville.
The good news about all this pandemic panic is that I finally have an excuse to not have to shake hands or exchange hugs with the humans. Nepenthe.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s Green Asphalt pictured above, a company whose raison d’être is the 2010 Solid Waste Management Act, dictating that NYC can no longer use landfills to dispose of road surfacing materials. When the contractors working for the NYC Department of Transportation scrape away a road’s armor, the milled materials are transported to Green Asphalt or a similar operation where the stuff is heated up and mixed with a small amount of new product. The resulting mass of steaming goo is then used to repave a street, often the very same street it’s was just milled off of.
That’s called recycling, baby, recycling.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Green Asphalt is found on one of my very favorite streets in Queens, Blissville’s Railroad Avenue. Why do I like it so very much? Could be those jet black cats with the glowing yellow eyes. Also might be the railroad tracks which give the street its name, or the ghosts of industrial titans like Fleischman’s Yeast, Van Iderstine’s rendering plant, or even the lesser branches of the Haberman family tree which used to stretch out hereabouts. I like darkness, and solitude, so there’s that too.
It’s hard to find a place in NYC where you can be truly alone, but one such as myself is always alone, even in a crowd.
“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 