Most of the prints for my show, NYC Night: New Work, that will open on November 9 at the Woodstock Artists Association Museum in the downstairs gallery have been dropped off at the framer, and I’m so excited about the work. As it stands now, I’ll show six fairly large color prints, and I’ll probably also exhibit a piece upstairs in the Holiday Show. My photographs will, I hope, create an interesting juxtaposition installed across from the Small Works that have become a constant source of fabulous Woodstock art. Holiday openings at WAAM are always festive, so if you happen to be in Woodstock on Nov. 9, 4-6pm, I hope to see you there.

On a country road
one mint green caterpillar
–heads to the mailbox.

The NYC Night series continues. Although the show is still several months away, I’m shooting as much as possible in the city after dark—last night, the elevated West Side Highway in the 70’s, a little park between the river and 10th Ave downtown and the High Line around 16th Street. I’m trying to post an image every week or so, although not sure which, if any, of these will make it into the November show. This is the work in progress.

Yesterday was a perfect summer day in NYC, the mood around Manhattan almost festive, so I decided to shoot on the High Line after sunset. The railway has become one of the New York’s most recognized and visited parks. Above the city, but not as far removed as most rooftops, the space creates a unique setting—somehow both urban and meditative. The High Line’s landscaping specifically conforms to preserved rails and ironwork, and lighting is part of its design. Last night, as people laughed, strolled, kissed, and gathered along the parkway, I turned toward the river and saw this elevator. A utilitarian structure transformed by color, a backdrop to the social landscape, a sculpture set above 10th Avenue and the West Side Highway. I snapped the picture, then turned to join a conversation. There is a sense of loss in the image for me, news my hometown that day, something I was expecting, the natural order of life, but still loss and sadness and gratitude. The people around me, with the exception of one, had no idea. This is New York—solitary, communal, and often both at the same time.

Above the High Line
window boxes spill fuchsia
–onto scaffolding.

Instagram and NYC Haiku ~me

Just back from a road trip South, I’m thinking about how easy it is to use an iPhone to capture a scene like this, the immediacy of Instagram and sharing. I have a show going up in a few months, a solo wall at a gallery, and I haven’t used my real camera in a while. The phone camera and quick filters are seductive. Sure there’s blur, and the images wouldn’t hold up to become large prints, but the process from photograph to share button has become a distinct art form that professional photographers are embracing. I’m going to need to become reacquainted with my “serious” equipment, and carry a heavy tripod and camera around Manhattan, to produce the show I’ve envisioned with big prints and minimal blur. But in a moving car, with my Canon in the backseat, this was an image I wanted to save. A mood, a moment, not for a gallery wall, or for sale, but for me.

The city fountain
with its floating lily pads
—and hopeful pennies.

Just after sunset
a field of flashing citron
–summer’s first fireflies.

The neighbor’s garden
thick with lanterns and moonlight
–drifting through night’s gate.

This is my favorite image from the heat wave of 2013. It was shot in the country, filtered and posted with Instagram on one of the hottest days, only blocks from town.

Here’s a board that I created on Pinterest to gather Instagrams by people I chat with on social media and/or know in real life. This week a travel and sightseeing theme emerged, reminding me of childhood summers and trading Polaroids with my friends. From Paris to the Taj Mahal, there are adventures here. Have a peek.

Fellow Instagram-ers’ Pics

~This one is by me. Woodstock. July 4th.