Ang’s Laundry
One morning I brought my camera with me as I walked crosstown. It was about 7:20, and the sun played havoc with the shaded facade of this building on 22nd Street. The black spikes in the iron fence are vertical, the white floor of the fire escape is horizontal, the windows are on a diagonal. The photo is a carousel of movement. But the close-up changed the mood. The photo is no longer about sharp edges and frantic energy.
Above Ang’s Laundry.
I spotted these pipes above a parking garage on 20th Street. They are so organically woven, they seem to be channeling Fernand Leger.
Big Pipes.
These standpipes made me think of Egyptian dancers – heads to the left; bodies facing front.
Egyptian dancers.
I came back to where I started, felled again by the dance of sunlight against a building on 20th Street.
Portico.
The Write Side of 59 