Les crows (on a wire)

Manhattan done vertical

In August of 2009 I spent one week in Manhattan. Soda water is seltzer and the only lights in the sky after dusk are planes. No stars. Groups of young girls practice strip dances in the park and swear at one another. Their noise does not interrupt a man dancing ballet in the shade of the trees.

The sounds here are: helicopters, sirens, and the subway beneath the sidewalks. The smells are: garbage, perfume, and dampness. I walked north to south and east to west. How do you describe this place? It's so insensitive and impatient and at times inappropriate that I nearly want to forget it altogether rather than put words to any of it. But nothing in Manhattan apologizes, and that is redeeming.

And at some point during my stay arranging myself at a too-small table on a crowded sidewalk in the heat by the side of a busy road looking at advertisements and feeling exhaust on my skin became, well, almost nice.

Manhattan done horizontal

Clouds and clowds

Three skies from three years ago.

Lines and scratches and colour

I think I really like what happened here. Pretty much a lot.

LoLo and cranes and, of course, water

The construction on lower Lonsdale as midnight passed. Fences, lights in cages, trees wilting in their burlap sacs while waiting to be planted, and darkness over piles of gravel.

I was waiting for the kissing people to leave so I could take a shot without silliness dead centre. Then my nose got cold and my fingers grew stiff. And they kissed on and stayed on. So I took the shot and left. There's always people kissing at the end of that pier.