Saturday morning / the bakery’s out of pastries / and coffee cup lids. ~me

When summer arrives, many of the small towns bordering New York City transform from sleepy villages to day-tripper and weekend destinations, creating a seasonal upswing in local revenue and increased demand on small businesses. Thanks to everyone who helps provide a respite from the intensity of New York City summers.

New York City Green: Ivy, Glass and Paint

I shot this photo a couple of years ago on a corner of Houston Street in the East Village. It was during one of those extended summer weather events when heat relentlessly richochets off asphalt. The color of humidity, that grayish tint coating everything in Manhattan during July and August, was much more common than refreshing glimpses of green.

The focus of the day’s project was photographing store fronts of rock clubs that had been important for unsigned bands trying to get record deals in the 1990’s. Some of the clubs still existed, some were gone. After shooting several rolls of film, I turned to cross a street and head toward the Lower East Side. For some reason, I looked back over my shoulder. The subway caught my attention. I shot the photo on the move, not even really knowing what I’d focused on—other than a funny graffiti character. When I studied the print, I saw the green wall, the ivy, the subway globe, a water bottle with a green label discarded on a metal railing. I liked the shot and the fact that when it appeared, I didn’t just pass it by. I found my green.

I wrote Pocket Poem NYC on Poem In Your Pocket Day back in April. Here it is again:

Pocket Poem NYC

After lunch in the cafe, I wrote a poem
on a napkin—my pen sinking into soft
paper, words framed by a design like linked
chain, raised and skirting the edge,
neat as a hem.
The poem is for my jacket. This low-tech
activity—a city scribbling words and folding
them, pocket-sized, ready to walk a block
to the corner, run for the bus, hop on
the subway.
These are the words I’m wearing today. Moving
with them, I contemplate the trailing off—how
they can follow us when connections drop or
crackle to a halt. Words like hem or him,
link and chain, words like paper. These are folded
in my pocket, beside the word you.

I’ve been a little slow on Notes posts lately—drifting away from my weekly schedule to sit under a hemlock tree and enjoy warmth after one of the longest, darkest winters I can remember in the Northeast—so I’ve decided to post a few haiku today. If you’re new to my Notes page, please check out earlier entries. My goal is to inspire creative expression by sharing my process, work and information about artists I know and admire. Even when it rains and I complain about days of drab, and believe me I do still complain, June is fabulous. The first and last poems show how “pools” can bring me from city to sea.

At low tide, the sand / tinted gray and glistening / held pools like hot springs. ~me

“old pond… / a frog leaps in / water’s sound” ~Basho

Summer rain drags on / patterned like a crazy quilt / even koi complain. ~me

It’s not quiet here / as rain pings against the old / air conditioner. ~me

Asphalt streets glimmer / under stoplights, honeycomb pools / mimicking seascapes. ~me

The NYC heat wave continues today, so I thought I’d post several haiku poems about the country. Although these poems were written about Woodstock, NY—where I go to find respite from the city’s intensity, a place that often reminds me of the North Carolina town where I grew up—they could have been written about the South. Writing haiku is one way that I can practice appreciation and remembering, using the past while fully experiencing the present moment. Try it…

“Wisteria vines / reach for a creaking porch swing / through the summer rain.”

“The same old bullfrog / lounges on a patio / belly to bluestone.”

“From the parking lot / one way to see the mountain / suddenly look up.”

Several years ago, I took a photography class at ICP called Roll A Day: Photo Diary that required me to shoot a roll of film every day for ten weeks with one day off for processing, printing and recovering from extreme exhaustion. No one in the class used a digital camera. Some of us were New Yorkers and some were experienced photographers who came from other countries to use this mythical class as a way to compile a body of work focused on NYC within the structure, instruction and group support offered at ICP. Everyone wanted to take great photos, but the point wasn’t perfect metering or framing. The teacher and creator of the class wanted us to break through conditioned ways of seeing the world while documenting our daily life and the city around us.

Anyone can do this Roll A Day inspired exercise. Today I used my iPhone to take photos of things that grabbed my attention on the street, and there are several posts underneath this one showing photos I took while doing Roll A Day inspired exercises. Although I live in NYC and often have access to some extremely adventurous subject matter—and believe me that can be a good thing and also a not-so-good thing—daily routines, chores and schedules can easily make me forget to look around with an open mind. Wherever you live, taking time to notice and photograph familiar surroundings can change how you see things, and this Roll A Day practice is a great way to get started. Just carry a point and shoot—or use your phone as I did—and document a few minutes of your day. Maybe compile a book. Maybe post on a website or Tumblr. Try it. It’s fun.

NYC Sidewalk and Wall. Houston Street.

Abstract Wall. Houston Street.

Crosswalk. Houston and Sixth Avenue.

Chain Link Only.

Advertising and the Local.

These photos were made with my iPhone on or near Houston Street today.

iPhone Photo Tip: To prevent blur, put finger on screen and hold. Snap photo by lifting off instead of tapping screen. ~from David Pogue in NYTimes today.

I snapped this photo of the Ai Wei Wei Zodiac sculpture with my iPhone last night. Ai WeiWei, who lived in NYC in the 1980’s and early 1990’s, was arrested by the Chinese authorities on April 3 and hasn’t been seen since. Immediately after the artist’s arrest, speculation began about whether or not his planned Zodiac installation would open on time–in early May–in New York. It did, and the piece now occupies the fountain in front of the Plaza Hotel.

The light blended into a soft mixture of shadow and sunset when I saw the sculpture for the first time last night. The Plaza Hotel, Bergdorf Goodman, The Apple Store, Central Park and Fifth Avenue surround the art and the fountain’s reflective water behind it. This very public work is being labeled WeiWei’s “first public sculpture” and, now for a time, is a central part of this quickly changing city’s landscape. Ai Wei Wei’s location remains unknown.

These are the iPhone photos (shot and manipulated with Instagram App) from last week’s NC road trip. There’s an essay in the previous post, if you are in the mood for some words…

Glenn’s Tastee Freeze. Wilkesboro, NC.

Tea Time At O’Henry Hotel. Greensboro, NC.Swimming Pool. O’Henry Hotel. Greensboro, NC.

Staircase Elks Club. North Wilkesboro, NC.

The Historic Woolworth’s. Greensboro, NC.

Imagine a time before photoshop and the everyday use of digital cameras. Imagine a time when photographers experimented with manual exposure in the field, not just inside the computer. When I decided to take photography classes, the world of images—as well as the photography district in Manhattan and the way photographers worked—was on the cusp of change. I had no idea. I just wanted to make pictures.

To get started, I studied the ICP catalogue and found page after page of fabulous workshop descriptions: the study of landscape, the art of street photography, lighting for portraits, roll-a-day diary. I made a mental list, planning to come back to the exciting ones after I first learned how to use a camera properly. I signed up for Photo 1.

The Photo 1 class led to Photo 2 and then to Roll-A-Day Diary. One class I loved was called “The Expressive Qualities of Light.” I shot color slide film, and a lab near Flatiron in NYC printed it. I had “working” relationships with labs, photogs. who worked in film stores and the printers who created my final images. The process always felt collaborative, and I loved it.

When digital took over the world, I kept shooting film. Every image in my recent solo show originated on film. And I don’t own a digital camera now—except for an iPhone. So when I took the trip down South last week to visit my family, I knew from experience that no matter how much I wanted to and planned to, I wouldn’t load my F100 and carry it everywhere. (There are psychological reasons I’m sure–like maybe that I want to be present with my family without a big metal camera between us.) So this time I decided to give myself permission to just snap a few images with the iPhone and play around with the photoshop qualities that the Instagram App. offers. I’m glad I did. I’ll post the images in my next post and maybe later go back and write more about why these matter to me. It was a good trip, and taking digital photographs was much better than taking no photographs at all.