RUSTING AWAY IN PHILADELPHIA

I found the most incredible dumpster just a few blocks from my house last week and photographed some of the more interesting surfaces of it. You may recall from an earlier post that I am attracted to rusted dumpsters like a moth is to light. In a sudden realization I had today, I now find that attraction incredibly sad.

Even though this particular photo (which made it to the elite ranks of Explore on Flickr last week) really excites me on many levels, it also makes me wonder how a large mass of filthy, beat-up, oxidizing metal (a freakin’ trash bin, for goodness sakes!) can give me such a thrill? I am left asking myself, why do I really search out dumpsters as if they were something to treasure? And what is it about trash containers that activate and stimulate my cones and rods enough for me to document and share what I have discovered with others? Surely in this great big city there is something else to be photographed with as much care and devotion as rust abstractions on dumpsters. I am beginning to think my view on this matter may be considered abnormal.

One of my Flickr contacts commented that viewing my photos made him think Philadelphia is rusting away. He’s right. In looking through my photographs of Philly, most of them are of crumbling facades, graffiti-laden surfaces, peeling paint, rust and debris. Is that what I think is beautiful in this city or is that the only beauty I can find here? Is it my aesthetic or is that what is really here to document? I am certainly attracted to urban grit and grunge, and the way the city is crumbling into rust and rubble before my eyes. So maybe this is my aesthetic; an aesthetic of that goes way beyond wabi sabi.

Or could it be I am ignoring the bigger picture here, literally. Perhaps, I am only able to find beauty in Philadelphia by gazing at it through a microscope (in the form of a camera’s macro lens) or the way an archeologist studies a specific site through its relics and shards. I cannot (do not want to?) see the city as it is: a huge, complex and overwhelming metropolis; a sometimes unfriendly and intimidating place. I keep it more user-friendly, and manageable by making it seem smaller. I am not as threatened by this city’s pulsating rhythms as long as I can parcel it up into neat little packages. Little packages of macro images of rust. Is that how I gain control over my environment? By making it decrepit, dying and small? I don’t know.

I have enjoyed living in Philadelphia the past seven years, but I think my love affair has worn thin and I am ready to leave. I admit I am extremely tired of my urban lifestyle. I am tired of thinking that dumpsters and rust are objects of beauty. I am tired of looking out my window and seeing gray cement and red bricks. I miss green. I miss having a yard with a garden. I miss having a patio or deck so I can relax or entertain outside. I miss having a backyard grill. I miss having a backyard! I miss wearing stylish, uncomfortable, non-sensible shoes because I must walk everywhere. I miss loading up my car with packages and doing all my errands efficiently and quickly; running errands in the city involves major schlepping with heavy bags. Silly things, I know, but it counts on my list of pros and cons.

Let’s get back to the rust, the cracked paint, the crumbling walls and the grime and grit. It has begun to wear me down, this city living. With all the things I miss, there are these things I will not miss: homeless people sleeping in doorways, beggars on just about every street corner, f-bombs heard everywhere, side streets and alleys reeking not only of garbage but of urine, people taking flowers out of our planters and/or depositing their trash in them; all that and this: people here are just not polite. Where has the kindness gone?

And so, I am tired of it all; tired of finding beauty in a dumpster, tired of rusting away in Philadelphia.

I want light and open spaces. I want to see the world bright and new. I want to be around smiling, happy faces. And that, in a very small nutshell, is why we are moving to Phoenix! (Did you know that Phoenix has an average of 300 days of sunshine per year!)

For some great shots of the Phoenix/Scottsdale area taken from some Piestewa Peak click here.

Content and photos copyright 2007 by Janet Towbin

BOOKS, SUEDE AND PHOENIX

I am completely overwhelmed and don’t know where to begin. It is very unusual for me not to have a single clue about how to proceed with any given project. However, today I must admit I am stalled, unsure and weighted down with the number of decisions I have to make.

Last week Rich and I decided we are moving to Phoenix. We have lived in Philadelphia for just about 8 years and we are ready to begin a new adventure. I’m very excited about it all…but now I am beginning to realize how much needs to be done in the next few months. OMG!! I am having a meltdown!

Rich starts his new position soon (late October) and I will move in December after the semester is over. I have all of October, November and December (except for the holidays) to do the following: travel to Phoenix to look for and buy a new house (we will also look at homes in Scottsdale and other communities in the area) ; clean up, de-clutter and sell our current house; sort through tons of books, art supplies, clothes, and other assorted household paraphernalia so we aren’t moving a lot of crap stuff we’ll never use again, and then pack up everything else we simply cannot live without.

Change is good for the soul. I know I will feel much better once I lighten my load by paring down my belongings. It is cathartic. After all, those are just material possessions…they are not important in the greater scheme of things. With that in mind, Rich and I spent the weekend cleaning out our closets…we tossed out a lot of outdated and ill-fitting clothes. It left me wondering why we had waited so long! Why did we keep all those things we hardly ever wore? I suppose there was a sentimental attachment, but why did I really keep the dress I wore to Alex’s Bar Mitzvah all these years (his Bar Mitzvah was in 1989 for G-d’s sake–that was last century!!)? I am at a loss to explain it…I haven’t worn that dress in 20 years.

After tossing away half the clothes (and shoes) in my closet I am now faced with a new dilemna: I have nothing to wear and I need to go shopping. I wonder if Clinton and Stacey can help me?

I have sorted through most of my books and magazines. The magazines I will eventually bring to school for my Collage Class students to cut up and enjoy. It will be a glorious day for them! Many of the fashion and textile majors will certainly enjoy all the Neiman’s (by the way, here is the famous Neiman Marcus cookie recipe), Bergdorf’s and Saks’s catalogues I have horded for close to 6 years. They were too beautiful to throw away so I kept them all.

Last week, I tried to donate most of my wonderful art books to an art college (the college will remain nameless, but I work there). I was informed by the library staff that I would need to present them with a complete inventory of the books (titles and authors). Can you imagine? I wanted to donate over 175 expensive and hard-to-find art books! The college library could have benefited from a donation worth around $3,500.00 (!) had they been willing to accept those books without an inventory! I realize it is quite a task for the staff to inventory books to accession them, but hey! It is a DONATION! (And a work-study student’s time would have been a good investment on their part.)

So now, the major beneficiary will be Friends of the Free Library of Philadelphia, Inc. They support programs at the Free Library of Philadelphia through sales of books donated to the Book Corner on 20th St. just north of Ben Franklin Parkway.

All the gorgeous art books I donated should be out on their shelves this week. Next week, I will have about 150 (or more) books to donate—this time fiction, non-fiction and poetry. There are some real treasures waiting to be dropped off. Like New Rules by Bill Maher! (Sorry, Bill; even though I am a devoted fan, and even though I loved your book, it’s not going to travel to Phoenix with me. Someone else in Philly will get to enjoy it at a discount. I hope you won’t mind.)

So here I sit, thinking about (Bill Maher and) all I need to do to get organized and what am I doing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, but spouting off about my books and ridiculous library policies and how much clutter I still must wade through. I had better stop writing for my blog and do something constructive! Like, deciding if I will really need to take a winter coat to Phoenix. And finding the answer to this burning question: Does anyone wear suede in Phoenix?

Content and photos (except photo of Bill Maher) copyright 2007 by Janet Towbin

ZAGAR’S MAGIC GARDEN

A week ago Sunday was a perfectly gorgeous day and I was eager to take a long walk with my camera. I was in search of some graffiti and other street art. Instead of finding graffiti I found a enclave of beauty, art and magic. I am still reeling from my discovery and have been left to wonder why it took me so long to find a treasure like this in the city I have lived in for 7 years. I feel like I was the last person in Philadelphia to know about it.

Certainly, I had seen Isaiah Zagar’s mosaics around town and have admired them and photographed them for quite awhile. There are many buildings in Philadelphia covered with Isaiah’s tiles. The Painted Bride on Vine Street between 2nd and 3rd St. is a masterpiece that I have photographed often and never tire of seeing. But let me tell you, finding the Magic Garden and wandering through its labyrinth of tiles, bicycle wheels, pottery shards, bottles, and other decorative ephemera was mind-boggling. Imagine what it would be like to actually walk into a kaleidoscope of sparking colored glass or pirate’s cave encrusted with treasures of incredible wealth. Well, it is better than either of those things…

It is pure magic! It is a wonderland of decorative whimsy. I wanted to stay there as long as possible to soak up joyful dazzle of the place. Such creative good energy! It was tinkling, jingling, buzzing and humming with beauty, peace, love and ecstatic exuberance. Isaiah’s Magic Garden is a delicious dream of what life could be like if we all embraced art, beauty and joy as our natural birthright.

I took over a hundred photos and would like to share just a few of the better ones with you. You can check my Flickr site to see more of the Magic Garden photos. I suggest you look at them in their largest size to get the full impact of the complexity of the mosaics and all the decorative details. Quite honestly, the photos do not give justice to the Magic Garden. You do not get a sense of the complexity and beauty of the place. It really must be experienced to get the full magical impact. If you are planning to visit Philadelphia, make certain you get to see this amazing place. It is only open on weekends, but I think you can call for an appointment. Check out the Magic Garden website for more information.

Content and photos copyright 2007 Janet Towbin.

RUSTED!

The next best thing to finding amazing graffiti or street art is finding a gorgeously rusted dumpster (with or without graffiti). I have seen some of the most inspiring abstract compositions you can possibly imagine on dumpsters. Intricately formed by the living rust organism over time, the rusted-out shapes meld and fuse into one another and form colonies of circular blobs that expand and grow in rings reminiscent of a tree’s inner circles.

The color palettes are stunning and illustrate how nature works her alchemy with these man-made objects! The rust can be any shade of red-orange, yellow-orange or rust-brown. The surrounding painted portions of the dumpster often generate a patina from the rust rivaling oil stains on wet asphalt. The surface color is also manipulated by age, dirt, fading from sunlight, dents and scratches, and of course, graffiti (spray-paint, paste-ups and stickers).

These behemoths of the inner city are metaphors of change—they are present at construction sites—and are repositories (coffins?) of the glory of former buildings and the detritus from reconstruction. All that metaphorical musing aside, dumpsters are treasure-troves of abstract imagery and inspiration.

I thought that I would pay homage to rusted dumpsters (and the ebb and flow of life in the city) with a gallery of dumpster rust photos. There are plenty more dumpster photos on my Flickr site if you want to see more.

Content and photos Copyright 2007 by Janet Towbin