VPID 0010 - The Painter

The world swirls around you. Runners jog by, cars troll along the shoreline, sailboats struggle against the current of Hell Gate, dogs bark, squirrels run circles up and down nearby trees. The horn of a park vehicle sticks, and a loud drawn out BLATTTT scars the warm air. All the while you stand quietly within the perfect center of a small concentrated bubble - peace. You hold a selection of brushes in one hand, your glasses have fallen slightly askew, the hat that should be on your head to protect you from the heat of the sun lies forgotten on the edge of your palette. Your concentration is exact as it defines the canvas set on the easel before you. The image of the park in all its green rain-filled summer glory is coming into a life of its own in the immediacy or your own careful hand. You add touches of light and shadow. This moment, captured in your mind's eye is here made manifest for the rest of us as you allow the image to flow out into the world. Nothing is new, and yet there is a clear certainty of birth in this expression released as something totally unique, something that has never before been seen in quite this same way. Your picture is indeed worth more words than are available.

VPID Null 02

There are perhaps ten men. Each sits on small a round disk such as one might see attached to the end of a rope swing suspended over a river. These guys are rappelling from the roof of a 20+ story blue-glass-faced building as though it were a mountain. I suppose in the city skyscrapers are as close as we can come to mountains. What can they be thinking? What would compel a person to do a thing like this? The answer is written in the squeegee held in one hand, and the wet cloth in the other. They are washing windows. It's true. These men must surely be considered skilled labor and even artists in their country of origin (for they are unequivocally not from around these parts), but here they are simply useful to the building superintendent.  This method must be illegal in NYC. OSHA seeing such a display would of a certainty become apoplectic, froth at the mouth, and go berserk, right? But what OSHA doesn't see doesn't bother them. While other window washer crews deal with such ridiculous things as scaffolding and safety harnesses and cranes, these stalwart swashbucklers swing across the face of the building with acrobatic ease. What they don't realize is that people would pay good money just to watch their antics. They could charge the public for prior information concerning which building they will be washing. But I suppose that would call attention to not only their amazing feats, but to the fact that they are swinging like trapeze artists in pursuit of nothing more than a living wage.

VPID 008 - In The park

Great dog! It's good to be in the park when the temperature has not reached its predicted zenith. One of you has taken the other out for a walk to perhaps sniff at a bush, pee on a fence post, or possibly chase a bird or two when something captures your undivided attention as it scampers around in the treetops overhead. Together you stand suspended statue-like, poised in mid-stride. Four wide eyes are focused on a single spot of motion high above. And you wait. And wait... Then, after several seconds have ticked by without so much as a breath of activity - one of you makes the decision to carry on, and off you go to whatever fabulous pleasures await in the great unknown and wonderful day ahead. Hey look - someone's lost a tennis ball!

VPID 005

Warm out isn't it? The two of you stand in the scant shade offered by the overhang of the K-Mart entrance. I can only surmise that you didn't bother to visit the store since wherever you're from there is probably one in your neighborhood. Sad isn't it, that the mom-and-pop stores are as much gone from where you live as they are here? But the shade is welcome as you pour over the map held between you like an elementary bridge connecting your journey from or to the East Village. You are obviously tourists, (welcome to NYC:-) and you are currently enacting one of the many rituals that tourists worldwide engage in: attempting to discover one of two things - how to get out of where you are now, or conversely how get to that other place that looks like the destination of your dreams. This image of you standing, heads together, thoughts of location coalescing into a single forward step in unison, isn't so much out of the ordinary in photographic terms, but rather it is so much in... It is composed of the everyday - which makes it exceptional. You may not know it but people swirl around you avoiding collision and veering off in directions of their own. Some of them are tourists as well though they are perhaps less prepared than you. I see no maps in their hands.

VPID 004

Aretha sings and you sway in time to the music. Your dress is vintage and your style shines beneath the studio lights of a small venue where your favorite performer, Rev. Billy, and crew, have given one of the great shows they're known for. The message: peace - through the act of backing away from consumerism is written across the entire room in the bountiful aftermath of performance. The crowd is still swarming and chatting, filled with residual energy. If only this energy might be harnessed, channeled and connected - it would solve the problem in one great spark. In your arms the baby sleeps. Her mouth has fallen open. Her small arms bounce gently with your motion. For her part she is the image of trust, and a center-point of joy in the room.  You are happy just to have her in your arms; at having her gratefully surrendered to your keeping by her mother. The look on your face is a look of absolute contentment. The two of you entangled, as one, reveal a picture of bliss in a blissed out moment.

VPID null 01

 Obviously, there are times when photographic moments do not involve people. I've decided to designate these times on this space as "VPID null" numbers in that no card is given out, and no particular person is likely to respond.

So, for me it becomes yet another an opportunity to write yet another photo...

Today driving on 31st Street in Astoria, New York, beneath the rumbling overhead train, the sunlight spikes through the rails and catches the smoke of a kebab vendor. The result is much like when sun rays stab through cloud layers creating  glorious sky's that hold so much spiritual significance in so many hearts. This is different, absolutely unique unto itself; each individual shaft of light is perfectly symmetrical; rectangular, generated sparkling through the track rails. And the smoke becomes the screen for this marvelous display, shifting and moving sinuously, softly, quiet as breath pulsing within the stark white rays of sublime luminescence, bathing the street ahead in diamond like refraction.  The solitary act of driving becomes yet another wonder-filled spectacle in a world filled with wonders.

VPID 007

This is a family. The baby lies, delicate as a flower, on the velvet red couch between proud parents. Daddy plays with his daughter: holding one end of a scarf. She grasps the other end in tiny fingers, and they pull the fabric back and forth in a dance of silent communication. It is a tug-of-peace. Mama gazes on adoringly, singing silly songs in a voice as sultry as summer air, occasionally pausing to laugh at her own silliness, and theirs. This photo is one of love as an activity, as an action. It is a blessing enacted in this singular moment. Likely enough though it will be oft repeated bestowing grace on others who are gifted with luck such as my own.

VPID 006

The sounds of the bridge traffic fill Astoria Park. People are out running, walking, exercising and enjoying the morning. You and your beautiful black and white dog (part border collie?) lie side by side in the grass near the track, peaceful and at rest. You are lying on your back with one leg crooked over the other. The sky is lite, overcast but bright. The air is warm and full of moisture. Still, there is a slight breeze coming off the water, and the humidity is being wicked away for the moment. Your right hand is on your friend's flank petting him softly (advise on dog's gender and I will revise:-). The dog's gaze is on you alone. You turn your head to him, so that for a pause in time the two of you are in a world of your own. Simply looking at one another. This is a perfect moment captured only by your memory and the virtual camera of a stranger passing by.

VPID 002

The N-train is crowded today but I can see the two of you between the handbags and denim covered legs that fill the space between us. You and the woman who stands in front of your seat speak in quiet tones somehow able to hear one another over the din of the train and the boisterous conversations all around you. The two of you are lost in one another. I imagine your love as fresh and new. At least that's what is written on your face. I cannot actually see the face of the other woman, but I do see yours, and that look is not to be mistaken. She has just reached out to touch your face in a tender caress, pushing a non-existent wisp of hair that might have fallen across your brow. It is only an excuse to touch you, and you welcome it with a wide grin. She leans in and you share a quick kiss as the train pulls into the station and she departs. You watch her exit, and then sit back closing your eyes for a moment. A new crowd shuffles in, and a stranger takes her place in front of you. A smile stays on your lips as the train lurches back into motion. I lose sight of you in the closing throng.

VPID 001

The swirl of children at play is all around you while you sit on the park bench just outside of Athens Square Park in Astoria. What marks you as a great photographic subject is your dog, also on the bench. A great golden retriever with his head in your lap. Clearly this great hulking animal lives in the belief that he is much the same size as the beagle that skitters to-and-fro playing with the children. The beagle is barking with excited yaps and yelps, and having the time of his life. Your dog is old, older even than you, and he hasn't the least interest in chasing kids or begging to have a ball thrown for him, but he does watch after the quick movements of the smaller dog with lazy eyed interest. Perhaps for a brief speck of time he considers joining in, but no, the effort would just be too much. For your part you rest your hand on his head, stroking it quietly as the sun beats down through the overhead leaves. This is a photo of peace after what must have been a long and difficult journey into the digital age.