towers above

I was born on the Lower East Side of Manhattan (the corner of Rivington and Allen Streets). I lived atop a five story walk up and would spend untold hours staring out the window....... (was better than TV).

Unlike friends that grew up in more rural areas surrounded by trees and rolling hills, my comfort was gained from viewing the bridges and sprawling rooftops of New York City.

Water towers...... as much as anything piqued my imagination. They were majestic, dark, mysterious...... I knew what they were called but there was no external indication of how they worked. I was always suspicious. I would sumise that they would be a great place to hide or even live. There was one across the street (photo above) but none on my roof...... where I could get my hands on it. Alas I am older and have google so I now understand how they work and except for some birds and rodents nothing else hides in them...... no elves or trolls. Though, I remember hearing someone threw a party in one somwhere in Chelsea not too long ago.... thats New York City for you. Anyway I can't imagine my home town without the forests of water towers coming to mind. Hope you find them as beautiful as I do.

no exit

"Why is there a fence around the cemetary? Because everbody is dying to get in!"

I am drawn to the dichotomy of urban cemeteries. A bustling day to day crust surrounding a hollow lifeless middle. I see longing in the headstones and monuments of the dead....... maybe even envy. Rows and rows of carved stone mornfully facing the trapings of civilization, while others turn away as if with disdain.

ghosts in the machines

"Ghost in the Machine".  Besides being the title of a brilliant Police album it is a term created by  a British philosopher,  Gilbert Ryle making fun of a French philosopher Rene Descarte.  The term is a derogatory knock on Descarte's belief of mind-body dualism (mind distinct from body).  The mind or soul or spirit is what Ryle refers to as the Ghost (....at least that's my take on it).  I'm trying to capture the pulse and energy(souls) in the storage devices, servers, switches and routers of various data centers.  The image above clearly illustrates a lifeless, dare I say soulless data center sans machines. 

no stops out east

The old Rocakaway Branch of New York's Long Island railroad was abandoned in June of 1962 (I was still a fetus). It runs for 3.5 miles through the NYC's borough of Queens. There is talk about developing it into public space......park or walking conduit through the neighborhoods it touches. Im trying to photograph as much of it as I can before the city father's ruin it. So far I have only photographed a small accessible section in Glendale. An old high school buddy is out scouting for other entrances and broken fences......he's the one that found this spot. Thanks Sam.

The title of the gallery was plagiarised from one of my daughter's songs which used the Long Island Rail Road as a back drop for an angry love song (thats what she does). Michele, don't sue daddy.

focus on cones

What do you mean? "Why traffic cones?" Wherever there is a cone, someone, somewhere thought something important was going on. Traffic cones always either are or were significant whenever they are present. It is time the much maligned and unappreciated traffic cone received a proper homage.

The cones in this gallery were photographed in and around New York City to prepare the way for the highly anticipated centennial anniversary celebration of the traffic cone's birth in New York State (Buffalo as the legend goes).

fete profond

Fete Paridiso was an exhibition of antique French amusements and rides dating as far back as the 1850's.

The exhibition was held the entire summer of 2013 on Governor's Island in NYC.

The fairway was a cacophony of color, laughter, French music, French food with barkers and operators dressed in classic French regalia........ I didn't photograph any of that.......... "fete profond" was what I walked away with.

white and black (the Antarctic Peninsula)

Antarctica started out as little more than cleaning out my bucket list to make some room.

I greatly underestimated the impact my sojourn to the "end of the world" would have on me. Thanks to this unparalleled world the good crew of the MV Ushuaia and the diverse but like minded travelers (many of whom I now count as friends) that I shared ten days with, I will never be the same.

Quite simply it was the first time I felt truly at home without any of the people, places and things I have historically associated with "being home". The journey provided me with a taste of freedom that I believe few get to experience. I feel the pangs to return everyday.

I recommend going...........