embelems, signs, sigils, tags, stickers and grafs make this place come to life.
some pass it by and pay it no mind,
some stop and curse it and call it abysmal,
some add to it with art of their own
and some rape it and steal it with a shutter release.
what am i? the pathetic apathetic numb and oblivious to life? the angry critic, damning everything in my path for not loooking the way i think it should? the theiving rapist that happens by one day and steals it away?
no, i'm an artist. by taking it in with my tool that takes things in, i spit it back out in post and make that art shine.
call me the middle-man.
The Bowery. in the 80s, it was punk central. artist central. poet central. the place of the hip.
this is the neighborhood these 8 photos from my "My New York" series.
stupid me shot these on saturday, which is tourist hell day here. not that i have anything against tourists, but they SWARM my favorite places on the weekend (SoHo, the East and West Villages, Chinatown is the worst omg) and that means there were a lot of cars on the street, which meant i had to keep the cars out of the shot. very hard stuff. glad i had my wide angle lens with me.
look at this, i wrote a damn essay... stop reading this and enjoy the damn photo.