(August 3) I find myself now, back in Port Jefferson, with just one room, and most of my belongings in boxes in Ronkonkoma. I’m not entirely clear when either of those things is going to change. I don’t remember Port Jefferson being full of douchebags, but people yell dumb shit at me from cars constantly. “Hey asshole, I’m in a car!” Apparently they criminalized walking and cycling while I was in Brooklyn. Who knew?
At first it seemed as if time had been rolled back five years. But alas, no Billy.
I have strong memories of blading down Stony Hill Road backward, with Billy. Just as Billy is no more, so are my days of backward-blading.
And into October, my last month in Brooklyn for now…
This guy wasn’t annoying. That’s pretty good praise in regard to subway musicians. In theory some entertainment down there should be a good thing, but really, it’s not.
I’d been thinking about him again a lot, due to my impending move.
It really was been all about him for a long time.
This does not constitute proof that crazy sign person is not in fact, a zombie
Smith St. and I go way back. I used to pick up shampoo for my boss at the salon 2 doors down back in another life.
Since the subway system has been crawling with cops, it didn’t surprise me to see the mystery machine turned on at Union Square. I gather it sniffs the air for something, but that’s about all I know.
Then back out to the sawmill for a day to turn this walnut log into boards
This reminds me of this
Unfortunately a big part of the log had been ruined by carpenter ants
I finally got a good shot here on a swing through Park Slope.
(May 25) I was planning on going into Manhattan, but it was already getting dark, and I made the decision to photograph around the Gowanus Canal instead, and I saved $4 which I sadly need.
Seeing animals in Superfund waters frightens me.
I want to chase the duck out of that poisonous water
There’s a lot riding on him now
This always reminds me of Billy for some reason
I still don’t know what this place is
The early part of this jaunt covers material I’ve photographed before, and this is not the end. Yet.
Meh.
I was back in familiar territory.
Other than the car that’s parked where the lawn used to be,
it looks almost the same as when I lived here.
Having grown up in suburbia, it wasn’t until I left it that I realized,
snow shoveling as day labor is a suburban phenomenon.
The snow makes the ordinary seem more interesting, more intimate in a way,
by blocking out background.
Meanwhile, underground, the stalactites are the least scary part of a Broadway station
on the G line that looks like it’s going to disintegrate.
It’s hard to get high shots in this city. The trains and bridges provide most of the free ones.
Speaking of snow, I miss Billy.
(December 7, 2008) One year ago today, Billy, my shadow for nearly 13 years, had to leave. It is an unspeakable thing.