Spent the afternoon with my best homegirl and most talented photographress Nina Mouritzen. In town from Denmark, she invited me to CI for a walk on the breezy beach to catch up and shoot each other. Triggers pulled and wounds licked we turned our attention the crippled monuments around us. Part mausoleum-- part ailing concrete circus tent-- the former City Of Fire -- once Home Of The Elephant Colossus -- has entered morbidly into it's final winter -- creaking a last bitter sigh before whatever gruesome and salacious rebirth lay ahead. Walking along the board walk I flashed to a brief memory of a friend getting stabbed for his boom box - then chastised myself for sincerely missing the days when both stabbings and boom boxes were as common as ipods and street massage. But looking back tends to bring you full circle -- on Ocean or any other avenue. I can warmly report that The Cyclone continues to stab the sky with splinters-- a wooden middle finger in the face of sentimentality's past, present, and future. That fucking thing still wants to end you-- with a wink. God Bless The Holy Land.
1 comment:
Coney Island was the first place i ever dropped Acid, i was with Faye, later that night i met a guy who was way shorter than me, about 107 years old and whose ears and nose had continued to get more and more Jewish after his body started to shrink, he tried to kiss me, under the D train, and the fruit were possessed by demons, if that's not Coney Island , i don't know what is.
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