I had to get out of the house today and, lucky enough to have a car, drove twenty blocks to the edge of Brooklyn.
If the current powers-that-be do look to the Works Progress Administration for inspiring a way out of our mess, we should all insist they hitch the Art programs to it.
It has always amazed me how many women artists continue to work in the shadows of men. The case of women graffiti artist is particularly glaring and yet their contributions are among the most essential lessons on why graffiti is such a dynamic artistic expression.
For almost five years I’ve been writing a story about the friendship between two girls who meet at 15. It ends when they’re 28. The major themes are growing up different from others and struggling with sexuality. I can handle the growing up without much hair pulling. It’s the sex that sends me around the bend.
What I love about these particular set of drone photographs is that they show the beauty of the living landscape.
Tom texted, “you want to see the strangest cemetery in Brooklyn?” And, of course, I picked him right up.
Tom knows two holy sites in the Bronx and off we go in honor of the Epiphany.
It was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge,” Dickens wrote. “May that be truly said of all of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless us, Every One!
I am happy every time I walk about Paterson.
I’d be surprise if Jerry Bianco idea hadn’t haunted him during his whole time at the Navy Yard, always mapping it out in his head, tenaciously believing he could make a submarine where there never should have been a submarine.