Demolition continued in fits & starts, then ground to a halt. The roof's off, & you can see clear through the house, front to back. The dumpster sits outside, full of house rubble and the assorted throwaways of neighbors. The name of Marie Grasso, inserted on the demo notice by an unknown hand, has been removed. In the back yard, I finally caught a glimpse of something I'd been looking out for: Carmine's souped-up shopping cart. Adorned with a flag, and used until the day he died. We're tired of the delays now. Let's get this done with, and move along.
I took a little Sunday ride on the F train, just as far as Avenue I. I love riding on the elevated tracks. What can beat those wide vistas, and coming face to face with the tops of buildings - the bits you never see in your street level world? Warehouse signage, graffited rooftops, crumbling cornice paintwork close enough, almost, to touch. And so much sky! It feels like the city inside out. And the kinds of businesses - resolutely unglamorous, often rather faded, or tawdry - a stubborn rebuke to the sleeker, more generic corridors of our city. It's a Julius Knipl world. Just on one block, McDonald, between the stairways of the Avenue I station, a whole host of pleasures. Here's today's entry.
Silk City: Wholesalers. Floral Artistry in Silks. Mantras to whisper in crazy times.
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