I liked these pictures from Greenpoint. That little bit of pole graffitti is funny because it's true! Or not. Actually, Greenpoint isn't so easy to define. I love it not only because my favorite person lives there, but because it pulls off the "third World Shit 'hole" [sic] vibe right alongside this great, baroque Old World thing, right alongside this hipster/stroller invasion thing, the whole package flavored by an absolute indifference to what outsiders may think. (And battling a corporate indifference to environmental cleanup, too, but that's another post). Also, kielbasy!
You either like the industrial-desolate beauty thing, or not, I guess. There's a picturesque area right at the northernmost tip, where Franklin Street ends, and a panoramic view of grey Manhattan arises, between stacks of giant container boxes, trucks, and sundry industrial detritus. I took these on a drizzly Sunday a few weekends ago. (They should get bigger if you click on them).
a great building at the end of Franklin -- those lovely, vulnerable glass bricks obviously make great target practice for someone ...
such a nice ampersand ...
is this the northernmost playground in Brooklyn? My Brooklyn geography is lacking.
anyway, if those swings faced the other direction, they'd enjoy this view:
I know, it's very "Photo 101," as K likes to observe when I attempt to get all arty with the Olympus. But I am fascinated by Box Street, near my new favorite cafe, which takes its name from this and the adjacent street.
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