Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Fancy Pants

Fancy Pants Royce rollin' up to Grand Central Station.


This is a GINORMOUS plot of land undeveloped in east Midtown. That building jutting out to the right is a U.N. Building.
I don't know the story behind this place but it's nice to see all those weeds and wildflowers on one big piece of land.
Something you don't really expect to see in Manhattan.
I myself love weeds and wildflowers. They are always in the constant battle of taking back their land.
They'll come out of little cracks of concrete and if they can they will break the concrete.
Weedy trees like the Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus altissima) are taking back the ghettos and city streets one sidewalk crack at a time.

Gleditsia triacanthos

The Honey Locust vs. Building.

One of the only trees thug enough to be able to thrive in this city.
Here it boldly contests the colossal building.

Why hello there old chap.

Wonder if this guy gets tired of watching everyone walk by staring at him.

Fuck Shit Smoke Stack

Grand Central Smoke Stack.

Lathyrus vernus

Sweetpea in the setting Sun.
Nothing more I have to say about that.


Dappled Sunlight.
This is in the morning when the air is still cool and the leaves are still moist.
This particular morning I saw nature projected on this street.
This street is actually an Avenue and It's also where I live.

av·e·nue (v-n, -ny)
1. Abbr. Ave. or Av. A wide street or thoroughfare.
a. A broad roadway lined with trees.<3
b. Chiefly British The drive leading from the main road up to a country house.
3. A means of access or approach: new avenues of trade.

My block has huge Norway maples lining most of it. It creates a great cooling system for the houses and the street.
But never mind the practicality of it.
The dappled shadow show is interactive in that you can feel the wind and also watch the moving shadows of the leaves.

The Commute

On the bus ride home to NJ from NYC.
Sometimes, I get to catch the Sun setting from the NJ Turnpike.
The orange glow stains everything. It leaves a warm soft touch.
Like sepiafying real life. Though, I'm sure sepiafying is not a word.
Even the black and white film picked up on the softness of the moment.

The Architect

Somewhere in Midtown Manhattan.
Fragments of beautiful architecture jammed between a hodge-podge of endless buildings.

About Me

My photo
In search of myself, I flew across the country from New Jersey to Los Angeles. The universe brought me to the gates of an Ashram on top of a mountain. The mother center of Self Realization Fellowship in Mount Washington, CA. One week later I am employed as a tree pruner and gardener at the mother center. The path to finding oneself is a peculiar one. This is a record of my spiritual observations through nature and life while employed as an Ashram Gardener.