Now in Svenska
My friends take better pictures than I do
Our creative director, Henry Sene Yee, takes the best photos of the Flatiron Building.
Found these birds in central park over the weekend. Apparently they are kind of a big deal in these parts, they even have their own names and multiple websites. Source for these beautiful photos and more are here. I refuse to type their names onto my blog however, attract the wrong kind of crowd I think.
Color inside the lines they said, you’ll be a good artist they said. psh
Easy listening Jazz cover band. Listen to it
I love this. It’s like one of those old-timey Workin’-Folk-In-New-York pictures.
You know the ones, dammit.
P5180101.jpg on Flickr.
Art off the High Line.
I love when I find pictures of things I wanted to take myself, but my phone was dead.
* An 8th Avenue-bound L train got stalled at 1st Avenue sometime before 9:00 this morning. The backup became tremendous.
* At Lorimer, the station agent announced that, due the jam, Manhattan-bound trains would be running on the Brooklyn bound track. A thousand of us grinded through the sweaty transfer tunnels.
* A Manhattan-bound train promptly arrived on the Manhattan-bound track. We were tricked. We watched helplessly from the opposite platform as our train departed.
* Back through the tunnels, this time merging with a stream of unwitting passengers transferring from the G train.
* A train! And it’s the proper train. Most of us are able to board.
* There is a crush at Bedford. An old woman is vigorously jostled onto the train. Someone from the middle eventually screams “that’s enough!”
* We are on our way. Someone throws the emergency brake between 1st and 3rd. Air brakes sound, we fall together as a mass.
* Stuck. A train operator is sent onto the tracks, to investigate.
* 25 minutes in I accidentally brush knees with the man sitting in front of me. It is a crowded train, this kind of thing happens, and I mumble the standard noise of apology. He threatens to injure me if I do it again. Drops his hood over his eyes and slouches back back, jutting his knees forward, some kind of dare to start a brawl on this train where there isn’t even room to swing a fist without elbowing five people in the face.
* I remain still for fifteen minutes, taking care with my knees. I read. The train is moving again, and there is no further trouble.
This is the problem with L-train serviced Brooklyn. A single point of failure. Where I live, if you don’t like your train, take a different one. If you don’t like that one, take the third one.
“I remain still for fifteen minutes, taking care with my knees” This is me every morning. I’m constantly on the look out for a wary first.
Imran Qureshi - And How Many Rains Must Fall Before the Stains are Washed Clean(2013), source likeafieldmouse
I love really giant and really tiny art. Anything in between just doesn’t do it for me.
