Island hopping

What better to do on a long weekend than explore someplace new? We had yet to visit Governors Island, and the 4heads Art Fair was a good excuse to go. (You should go, too! It's open Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays through September 25, and it's gloriously free. More to come soon on some of the artists we found intriguing.) The Mark di Suvero sculptures, like the one above, are massive and cool. Bring a picnic, wear some comfortable shoes, and poke around for awhile -- there's plenty to see.

Tiny cat

Roo

Loved this stencil -- saw it on some plywood on 35th St., near 35th Ave., in Astoria. (Anyone know the artist? Credit where credit's due!)

Out and about after Irene

Our backyard looked to be in pretty good shape: a few fallen figs and a bottle of prescription cough syrup that somehow blew our way; no real damage to report. After the rain stopped and the wind died down, we decided to take a long walk through Astoria and Long Island City. The abandoned umbrella, on Vernon Boulevard, brightened up a desolate stretch. Ditmars Boulevard was surprisingly lively; a number of restaurants found a way to open, and though a few trees were down, none of them seemed to have done much structural damage to buildings. Astoria Park was a nexus of activity -- two short stretches of Shore Boulevard were submerged, and the atmostphere was festive. Children splashed in the puddled water, bikers braved crossings, and people picnicked. Across the East River, with no public transit to speak of, Manhattan felt a world away.

Warning signs

We bought our supplies yesterday and secured the plants and furniture in our backyard this morning, so we decided to walk around Astoria this afternoon. Eerily quiet; many businesses closed, and very few people on the streets. The signs were quite interesting, though.

Here comes the rain again

Rain showers before Irene: what are we in for?

Sheltering in place

It seems that a hurricane may hit New York in the next few days. I'm trying to remain calm, but a buzz is in the air, so I went out in search of reinforcements: water, canned food, flashlights, and so on. I also bought a variety of candles, as I think a power outage is the most likely outcome. My proudest purchase was this 8-inch column candle from a 99-cent store down the street: "Lucky lottery," it reads. "Alleged money drawing candle. Crystal ball. Write your numbers in the squares!"

As seen in Portland

Took a (brief) trip back home earlier this week; too busy to take many pictures of, say, friends and fam (a terrible mistake in retrospect), but I did stop to admire some signs of the street. At left, small extract of a mural off NE Alberta.

Caricature giving good side-eye is from the side of a newspaper box on Hawthorne; the cat in the party hat I believe was somewhere on NE Mississippi; and the snail was pasted to a dead-end sign near Hawthorne.

Catch o' the day

I was browsing old issues of Sunset Magazine on Google Books, and I happened upon a story about  fishing on Santa Catalina Island in the publication's January 1901 edition. In "Rod, Reel and Gaff in Southern California," Charles F. Holder writes: "If the adventures of the tuna fishermen could be told it would make a volume of thrilling incidents." Would that he had recounted some of these incidents, rather than discussing the merits of rod and reel versus a hand-line! Nonetheless, the pictures are fantastic; the lady and her large tuna are a particular favorite. (My family, it should be noted, would likely argue that the only good fishing is fly fishing, and that the best place to do it is on a quiet little stretch of the Tuolumne.)

 

Light and shadow

In Oregon for the week; last night, we had a big barbecue.

My parents installed a shade sail to protect us from the sun, but at some point in the afternoon it came unhooked and hung like a curtain across the deck.

As the sun sunk in the sky, the nieces and nephews got hip to the idea of making shadow puppets, which quickly evolved into an elaborate staging of the debut production of a five-act play with robots, ballerinas, and lots of shrieking. I believe the above is taken from the act entitled, "When Things Got Weird."