Arverne-by-the-Sea, our old neighbourhood in the Rockaways, NYC. Storms and fires destroyed a lot of the old buildings that used to be here, old hotels and theatres. It’s a mix now of ocean swell nipping at sand tractors, surfers and dippers and boardwalk rollerbladers, bungalows, brick and wood houses, dilapidated mystery structures, apartment buildings, garages, marinas, abandoned lots, decommissioned traffic-lights and windbattered-pinned-to-the-fence Stop & Shop flyers, with big-bellied airplanes descending into and departing nearby JFK.
Some old expired film… the Rockaway Beach Boardwalk used to be a charming old thing made of wood planks, but was completely destroyed by Sandy. Now there’s a concrete one that will hopefully weather the next superstorm. Whatever the construction materials, the Rockaway boardwalk is the spine of the community.
My dad and I, crabbing in Sooke, on Vancouver Island. We used to crab when I was growing up too, and fish, and dig clams. Thank you Peyman for getting this one.
A movie theatre in Denver that I didn’t go into. Hmm. I was in town for a few days picking up a bass, and staying with some acquaintances that served me roasted veggies with Japanese BBQ sauce and played music by the fire. And I did see Poor Things in theatre in NYC - fantastic.
E for église, a church, in Toronto, down the street from my friend’s place. A hose, gutter pipes. Brick and stone.
Yes!
Gleason, Sam. Sam is a terrific musician/producer/creative person in Toronto.
My love Peyman, working on music. Surrounded by instruments and plants and sunlight. Our bungalow in the Rockaways.
An Italian man, crashing on our couch. This is the wonderful Federico Franchi, a drummer and guitarist and singing songwriter and wonderful person, best buddy of Peyman.
Buongiorno Jesus. Buonanotte Jesus. It was written into our lease to not fuck with the Jesus decal on the bedroom window, so we did not.
Katie Martucci, a fantastic Brooklyn musician, photographed on her roof.
Lake with birch. More likely this was a pond. This was in Kittery ME where I was hen-sitting and walking in the woods with Charlie-boy every day. Love you/miss you Celia & Phil !
Meadow! We’ll take it. No edits. That’s just the way the freakin sun looked like on that dead grass, this was in Colorado just after Peyman and I got engaged.
Nostrand Ave in Brooklyn, at the bus stop at Fulton where you get off the A train. Probably going to Jean & Liam’s, or the Owl….
the Atlantic ocean, as seen from Rockaway beach. Construction for years. They’ve been building a wall, a fortification under the sand, to brace for the next storm.
Pigeons in Honolulu, very expired roll.
The Q52 gets you out of the Rockaways, over the Cross Bay Bridge and straight north aaaaalmost all the way to LGA. Damn, would have been nice if it could have extended a couple more miles to LGA. But I have no idea what goes into planning transit routes.
Every May, for his birthday, my dad and I drive down the Oregon coast in his 1987 Volkswagon Westfalia.
More Rockaways. Alley under the tracks, behind the Stop n Shop, where we walked home from the train.
just a nice creamy birch trunk. wrinkled and spotted with age.
Bicycles doing the hanky panky
Also, I just really like photographing gloves. Next series…
Home of Hadestown. Walter Kerr was a Pulitzer-Prize winning theatre critic in NYC from the 50s through the 80s.
Calicoon, NY, where I played a show with Jefferson Hamer.
Un oeuf is enough! Former dining room of my friends Chris & Kelsey out on the Olympic Peninsula.
my name spray painted on a power pole in Red Hook.
And that’s a wrap.
The goal with this A-Z challenge was to get back in the habit of carrying my camera around, prime the pump. It didn’t really work though, I still go through lulls. I think the lesson was, don’t worry about it - lulls are necessary, actually! Time to rest, or let in other things. We’re all just inventing our own lives anyway.