By which I mean, between home and Green-Wood. Because of the heat and my general laziness, I’ve been going on short, doodling runs around the neighborhood this past week. Heading south, toward Green-Wood, gives me lots of options of streets to run up and down, so that’s what I’ve been doing. And as I’ve done it, I’ve of course been looking for cool street art – like the mural at the top of this post, on 23rd St. close to Fifth Av.
They’re younger than the TikTok teens who trolled the Trump campaign so brilliantly, but they’re just as magnificent: the Brooklyn kids who’ve been turning out for marches and rallies in support of Black lives. The fence around P.S. 39 at Sixth Avenue and 8th Street has become an impromptu gallery for protest art, as you can see above.
A sampling follows. Continue reading
A bit more about the “Wall of Justice” on Brooklyn’s Fourth Av from yesterday’s post. This morning, the protest art on the site was even more extensive than last week, taking up the entire block between Union and Sackett and wrapping around both corners. The images below are from the side streets. Continue reading
A gallery of recent street art and graffiti in Brooklyn. I have nothing to add in the way of commentary or insight, other than just to echo: Black lives matter.
A few more from the stretch of Fourth Avenue between Union and Sackett that also includes the image at the top of this post. Continue reading
50 Favorite Places #13
A short, scenic bus ride from Mexico City’s Taxqueña bus terminal, Tepoztlán is part traditional Mexican town, and part new age retreat. It’s the kind of place where the central market offers both chapulines and gluten-free baked goods, where you can relax by chugging down micheladas or undergoing a hot stone massage, and where you can indulge in a pre-hispanic vegan menu or share giant skewers of grilled shrimp (distance from the coast be damned).
Tepoztlán’s primary claim to fame – aside from its beautiful natural setting and general charm – is Tepozteco, a peak topped with a small pyramid dedicated to Tepotezcatl, the god who brought pulque to humankind. His mother was the goddess of the maguey plant, and his father discovered fermentation, so it was only natural that Tepotezcatl would drawn on this lineage to ferment maguey sap into a tart, viscuous drink. (I’ll have more to say about pulque later.) Continue reading
Mexico City excels at many things, and one of them is street art. I’ve done a lot of walking and admiring these past two weeks. On this, my last day – surrounded by loose clothes and half-packed bags – looking back over the photos I took along the way makes me feel a little less sad to be leaving.
Crown Heights
In the immortal words of Biggie Smalls: “Spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way.” On this Valentine’s Day, I’m bumping up “Street Art Sunday” by a few days to show some of the ways Brooklyn street artists are spreading love around the borough.
It doesn’t have to be realistic to be recognizably Brooklyn
Much street art in Brooklyn takes as its subject . . . Brooklyn. A gallery follows, with minimal commentary. Continue reading
50 Favorite Places #4
Bond St in Manhattan runs for two picturesque, Belgian block-paved blocks in NoHo. It’s lined with artful boutiques, luxury apartments and expensive restaurants, and is beloved by Instagrammers.
This is not about that Bond St.
Bond St in Brooklyn runs for roughly a mile, starting at 4th St in the Gowanus neighborhood, cutting through Boerum Hill and across Atlantic Avenue, eventually making a hard right in Downtown Brooklyn and becoming Dekalb. Sections of it have long been part of several of my standard running routes (e.g., my short Gowanus loop, my over-the-Brooklyn-Bridge 10 miler, and my Damascus-Bakery-is-calling-me ata’if route, among others). So I’ve watched the street change over the years, for good and bad and “it depends,” but until I decided to write about it here, I’d never traversed its full length in one go.
Come along with me, then, and explore Bond St from south to north. (If you’re not a runner, don’t worry – I’m currently injured, so we’ll be moving at an easy walking pace.) Continue reading
Or perhaps I should say “newish;” I missed an opportunity to document its creation last summer. I did see it in its earliest stages, when I went for a run along Brooklyn’s industrial waterfront in mid-July, right at the beginning of one of our heat waves. A group of young people was gathered by one of the long, low-slung buildings along First Avenue, between the south entrance to Bush Terminal Park and the Brooklyn Army Terminal, and I stopped to chat with them, because I know how much teenagers enjoy talking with sweaty, middle-aged women. I could see what looked like the beginnings of a mural behind them – splotches of color, sweeping, curved lines, all very abstract – and asked if that’s what it was, and if they part of the crew putting it up. Yes, they told me. Continue reading
