they fight. we drink.

today is the end to memorial day weekend. a very special holiday for those of you who have loved in the military or who have served in the armed forces themselves. for the rest of us, its a 4 day weekend, allowing more time to fill your belly with beer and, as was the case for me this weekend, strudel.

usually too obsessed with ingratiating myself to the latin community to notice there are such things as other cultures, i happened upon a group of eatern blockers celebrating at the beer garden in astoria. i sampled the local fair, meaning sausage, beer, and desserts with names i cannot pronounce. it was an experience worthy of the trek out to queens, and it made me wonder why it had been 4 years since i had patronized this fine establishment.

i cannot include the smells or sounds of the experience, but here are some of the visuals.














may 2010

charlton street

may 2010

shaved ice

uptowncollective.com

may 2010

wet behind the ears

may 2010

uptown, baby

my neighborhood is beautiful.

my neighborhood is unique.

my neighborhood is amazing.

my neighborhood is different.

my neighborhood is a community.

my neighborhood is home.

between races this weekend, i chose to photograph my neighborhood...

may 2010

late night munchies

uptowncollective

april 2010

career path questions...

when i was a little girl, i showed a passion, and hopefully talent, for visual arts. i took these inherent, built in factors, and cultivated them into a career. to my understanding, this is what people do. they take their god given talents, add some hard work and dedication, and create a working life for themselves.

so i am confused.

tonight, while journeying back to northern manhattan and snail-like speeds in may showers that i suppose are bringing june flowers,  i pondered a question that begs many of us that live in new york, or other metropolitan areas where owning cars are not the norm:

why is it that the worst possible drivers in the world inevitably become cabbies?

it doesn't make any sense to me. its not just foreigners. its not just careless men. its purposely bad drivers who think that the rpm needle is supposed to dance around the dial  and that the gas and the break pedals are in fact just a well masked video arcade game where you mimic the dance movements till your hot and sweaty and absolutely no tickets are dispensed.

i beseech you, does anyone have an answer?

discuss amongst  yourselves...

april 2010