I lived in the Empire State long enough to behold the World Trade Center bombing, September 11th attacks - watching the 2nd plane crash into one of the towers via T.V, barely awake that grim morning. Then the age of digital really began, without even a cheap funeral for television. So many immersed into this brave new world we can barely remember reality without it. The MTA strike, super-storm sandy - exciting but left us broken and devastated. The city could be seen as a survivor, a place reborn out of its own figurative ash, one disaster after another. And yet Covid-19 seems to have crippled the empire state (and the state itself by extension); the wealthy, rich, and those who could, have fled. Panic and fear still lingers, personal freedom at cost of society and the state. Scores of businesses gone belly-up, the economy gone down a golden spiral. As a son of New York, and American, I believe things can get better - as a visual artist I’m conflicted.
Finally, a comfortable ride….
Empty booths, nearly empty stations.
Canal street station, mid-day…
In the wake of anger….
Must have been quite a sale….
America is in a near-constant cycle of struggle to change.