Spring Cleaning
I’m switching jobs very soon should everything go as planned, so I’m in transition mode–sorting, chucking, tying up loose ends. I have a bunch of images saved to my office computer (tsk tsk) that need a new home, so here begins a new series: Spring Cleaning.
The first is an image of a sweet, cartoonish building in Brooklyn. I found it long before BF and I made the trek out there a few weeks ago but, by chance, I walked past the building myself! I remember feeling a strange sense of familiarity, not yet realizing that I had flagged the image. Instead, I believed the pull was just its silly grin, an awkward punctuation in a dreary walk beneath the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.
I sort of begrudged its cheeriness. When it leaped out at me, I was in the middle of imagining a dark film unfold in front of me. Daylight was mostly gone, buried in gray clouds and a cement overpass. I walked behind two men, their cold breath billowing from hunched bodies, just coats with legs. Their voices were surely loud, but hushed and sobered by the downpour. I watched them navigate the puddles, periodically glancing up to trace the overpass for openings where rainwater dumped to the ground with each passing car. I imagined these two figures in an era not our own, plotting and conspiring.
Suddenly, this ridiculous blue box pops out! You can see how it ruined the moment.
