Lower East Side, October 2006

The stenciled bee, as well as the “323,” are common graffiti. You may remember the “323” tag from this photo.

I remember being hot when I took this photo last fall. It’s hard to imagine now, with the frigid wind burning my face every time I step outside.

Here, as in much of the country, the cold has been especially dramatic the last few days. I can wear three or four layers beneath my coat and I’m still chilled by the time I get to my office in the morning.

And even there, in a heated room, the cold is with me. Outside my office window are two or three wooden water tanks, standing on the roofs of nearby buildings. These perpetually leaky tanks have formed huge stalactites of ice, and periodically through the day, a dagger will break off and fall five or six stories to a lower rooftop. I’ll be working at my computer and hearing those thunderous, shattering sounds. Kind of surreal.

As miserable as it is, I like the cold in some ways. The sky is crystal clear, the air thin. Everything seems purified. And its sheer, bitter intensity demands attention -- when you’re outside, your mind can’t wander. You’re with the cold every step of the way, breathing it in, warming it, exhaling clouds like a dragon.

East Village, February 2007

Sometimes when I'm out walking around, I'll see something that I think might make a good photo. I'll take a couple of shots, trying different angles - but if I have to try too hard, I often go away unsatisfied and I wind up throwing it out.

On the other hand, when I see something like this - a simple composition, but one I don't doubt - all I need to do is take one frame and I know I've got it. So much of photography is pure instinct, trusting your responses.

I had an interesting outing with my friend David on Sunday night - we went to see Kiki and Herb, a legendary drag act, and one that transcends the catty nature of most drag acts. I don't love drag performances in general, with their mean-spiritedness and strenuous attempts to be clever. But Kiki and Herb are different.

Kiki is the drag persona of Justin Bond. She's a boozy, aging cabaret singer who specializes in bizarre covers of songs you've probably never heard covered. (On Sunday, for example, she did Melanie's "Momma Momma," which I've never heard any other singer attempt.) Accompanied by her brilliant pianist Herb (Kenny Mellman), she manages to create a sort of weary, dark elegance with her wild hair and laborious vocals. It's a drag show with depth. I was amazed at how much I liked it.

See them performing Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill" here.

Bowery, February 2007

Here's something new - my very own video! This building is going up at 235 Bowery, at Prince Street, and it's sheathed in drifting white tarpaulins. On windy days these tarps billow like ships' rigging (not that I've ever been on a ship with rigging), making the entire structure seem as ghostly as The Flying Dutchman, endlessly sailing the seas. This building probably will not endlessly sail the Bowery - I'm sure it will be finished soon enough. No one ever lets real estate languish in this town!

I initially took some still photos of the building, but that just didn't cut it. They didn't capture the beauty of the motion of those tarps. So I switched to the seldom-used video function on my camera and, after some experimenting, came up with this. The compressed file for YouTube isn't great quality, and for some reason I lost the sound, but hey, it's a start.

What this can't convey is how COLD it was when I filmed this on Sunday. I'm guessing it was about 30 degrees (or -1 degree for those of you who use celsius).*

*Actually, it was 20F, or -6.7C

Upper East Side, August 2006

What prompted someone to chalk this face onto the windowsill of a brownstone? Were they waiting for a friend, a bit bored, outside their apartment building? Was it a child playing? At least the face is smiling, so they must have been in a good mood.

My cat, however, is not in a good mood. She seems to be losing a little weight, so I took her to the vet yesterday. She never likes the vet, but wow - I've never seen a performance like this one. She basically turned into the Tasmanian Devil, whirling around the room and screaming, her hair all on end. Even the vet techs, armed with thick towels, couldn't control her. So I have to take her back on Tuesday when they can anesthetize her for an examination. She'll love that.

I met up with my old friend Brett for dinner last night at my favorite restaurant, Hell's Kitchen, on Ninth Avenue. Brett lived here in New York when I first moved here in 2000, but two years later left for L.A. and then Houston, and now is back for a conference. You know how you can not see someone for years and then, when you get together, it seems like it's been a week or two? That's kind of how it felt seeing Brett - an easy click after a long absence. Brett also brought along a fellow conference-goer named Keith - a nice guy who is, of course, a blogger!

Hoyt Street, Brooklyn, June 2006

Another summery photo: Leaves on the trees, and strong dappled sun. It's sort of odd to post a summer photo in February, but it's been hanging around a while and I want to use it!

Last night I went to the Zen center to learn about two ancestral teachers: Yaoshan and Yunyan, who lived and taught around 800 A.D. I’m not well versed on the Buddhist lineage, but I like the chance to get some sense of those who went before us.

Western philosophy has never done much for me. I’ve never been into Kierkegaard or Hegel or Kant or Nietzsche. Several years ago I tried to read “Sophie’s World,” the popular novel that introduced Western philosophers and their ideas amid a rather contrived plot. I thought it was the most boring book ever. I never quit books, but I quit that one.

Part of the problem, I think, is that I’m not a “big question” kind of person. I don’t wonder about the Meaning of Life, or Why Are We Here, or What’s It All About, Alfie. I have a much more practical approach, best summarized as: “OK. We’re here.”

I realize I'm over-simplifying Western philosophy, and also setting up a false duality by saying the Buddhist masters are more appealing. I'm sure there are shared elements of Eastern and Western thought. But I like the Buddhists' cryptic teachings - often just a few words, or a gesture - and their concise encounters with students that inevitably lead to some hapless monk’s illumination. Most of all, I like their emphasis on, essentially, my philosophy: “We’re here.”

Last night, I enjoyed one story featuring Yunyan. When a student asked how he could best convey Yunyan’s "reality" after the old teacher had died, Yunyan paused. After some silence, he replied, “Just this is it.”

So simple, yet so complex: “Just this is it."

Spring Street, SoHo, Sept. 2006

I liked the ornamentation on this old building. Kind of looks like a face, huh? A mustachioed gent, perhaps, like William Howard Taft.

I spent yesterday wrestling with Blogger to add a photo to my profile. What an ordeal! Partly because Blogger was on the fritz, and partly because it took a while to find a photo and get it down to a small enough size. My friend Kevin took this one as we walked around downtown D.C. at Thanksgiving. (I'm wearing my 51-cent t-shirt!) I realize it's absurdly small, but I wanted more than just a face shot. Anyway, there I am.

My blogging pal Reya and her friends have a tradition of blogging poetry every Feb. 2. So, in solidarity, I'll leave you with one of my favorite poems, by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I've always liked its haiku-like imagery and simplicity. I once won a discount at a book store for reciting it from memory!


EEL-GRASS

No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.

Verizon tool carts

In New York, if not elsewhere, Verizon uses three-wheeled carts to haul and store tools and other equipment for telephone installation and repair. Often you'll see them parked on the street near a construction site. Two have been parked on my street for several months, in front of a building being renovated.

Sitting outside overnight, these carts become easy targets for sticker-graffiti and spray paint. The one above is a particularly good example, with its wide array of colorful, artistic stickers.


The carts themselves are kind of nondescript looking, until you get close up and start checking them out in more detail.




I'm not sure who Korn is (besides a band), but Neckface has been a particularly well-known local graffiti artist for years. You can see that Verizon cleans the stickers off the carts from time to time, but obviously they just can't keep up.

Which is a good thing, as far as I'm concerned.