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

WHO IS THIS GUY?

I found Green Man on a wall in SoHo this past July.

And Asphalt Man on the streets of Philadelphia just a couple of days ago.

I’ve seen quite a few of these stick figures around, but these are the only photographs I’ve taken. Does anyone know who makes these walking men? I’d sure like to find out. Please e-mail me if you have any information about the artist. If you have an image (or several) of a similar figure and you’d like to share, let me know. I’d love to post them or link up to them. Here are a few I just found on Flickr:
by mrswildmann
by alankin
by Goggla
by damonabnormal

RECENT UPDATE:
Well wouldn’t you know it…there is a whole group on Flickr just for STI(C)KMAN as he is called. So now I know what he is called… And Wooster Collective website has lots of Stikman images from November 2006.

I’ll do a little more sleuthing to see what else I come up with…It seems as though there are two spellings used for him: Sti(c)kman and Stikman. I am not sure which is the preferred spelling, but Wooster Collective uses the Stikman one–so I think that must be correct. Sorry, Flickr group.

The content of this blog including photos is copyright 2007 by Janet Towbin

THE LOW DOWN

I really do enjoy walking to work along 20th Street. Like any other major city, this downtown Philadelphia street has its share of businesses, office buildings and people all vying for attention. However, what I really notice is the street and it is mostly out of self-preservation. I must look down so I won’t fall (or twist my ankle) on the uneven sidewalk. (I’ve done that a few times and it really hurts.) Everyone who has walked these uneven city streets knows how easy it is to fall and how bad it feels when you land on your…whatever. So, I look down and watch where I walk. (There are other good reasons to watch where you walk in a city… but I don’t need to mention the unmentionable.)

As I was walking to work today, my eyes soaked up the gritty urban textures of cement, asphalt, pebbles and paint, with embedded bits and pieces of street junk. As I continued walking and looking down, I thought of Irving Penn’s series of eye-opening photographs called Underfoot. This wonderful series was exhibited at The Philadelphia Museum of Art in 2004 and I remember being completely blown away by those images.

I noticed some wonderful spray-paint markings on the streets due to repairs and resurfacing. Fortunately, I had my camera with me (of course!) and captured some of the vivid day-glo orange spray-paint.

There was a spinner in the street (perfectly poised next to a big blob of a line gone all drippy) and I thought about my friend, Harry Schwalb, who has drawn dozens, maybe even hundreds, of them, each spinner infused with personality and delicate beauty. This lone spinner next to an overweight, drippy line Aaron Siskind would have loved gave me a thrill. I honor all three artists in this particular photo which I have titled, Underfoot. The blobby, painted line with drips is for Siskind, the maple spinner for Schwalb and the general subject matter and title an homage to Penn. You can view these photos on my Flickr site to see them in their original size with greater detail.  (See Intersection and Underfoot.)

What a day! Thank you Irving Penn, Aaron Siskind and Harry Schwalb–your artistic vision inspires me in countless ways.

Content and photos copyright 2007 by Janet Towbin.

THE RED CABBAGE MUSE

It all started with a very practical and quotidian errand: I needed to go to the market and do some cooking. I had been away for almost a week and the cupboards were bare. It was raining, so I took my umbrella and walked the two blocks to Maxx’s on 20th Street. I bought as many veggies as I could carry home while balancing my umbrella to keep dry. In the two bags were an eggplant, some zucchini, a red pepper, an avocado, baby spinach, 3 onions, 2 tomatoes, mushrooms and a head of red cabbage. Oh, and some bananas and blueberries.

Putting it all away, I realized I already had a head of red cabbage in the fridge. At first I was annoyed at myself for my lapse of memory (another senior moment), but soon realized it was silly to be annoyed. I needed to be inventive and think of something to do with all that cabbage. My light-bulb moment occurred: I would make some red cabbage coleslaw. Yummy stuff…and I was in a cooking mood.

I sliced the cabbage in half to prepare it for shredding and was blown away by what I saw. No, I didn’t see an image of a religious figure…but I was filled with amazement and awe. Call me crazy, but I do see things in a rather quirky way. After all, this blog is called “Quirky Reflections” for a very good reason.

I could see the earth’s stratified layers, trees, wizards, animals, rivers, highways, dress ruffles, church domes, ocean waves…an incredible assortment of visual treasures! Like Proust, who experienced all of Combray in a teacup, I saw the world in a cabbage. Quite unlike Proust, however, whose memory led him to Combray in a teacup, my forgetfulness led me to experience a vast wonderland of images.

There was incredible beauty within those gorgeous deep pink/magenta leaves with glowing white centers! Layer upon layer of leaf edges formed a swirling, undulating pattern–a labyrinth of inspiration! I grabbed my camera and began photographing the beauty of that cabbage. I now want to make some drawings based on the forms within forms of those cabbage leaves.

You never know where or when inspiration will tap you on the shoulder. But here’s a secret: the next time you go into the kitchen, take your camera, journal or sketchbook with you. Your muse might be waiting for you!

The content of this blog, including all photographic images are copyright, 2007 by Janet Towbin