New York Madison Avenue Church: Influenced by Pedro Almodovar.
The incomparable first time: Like a syringe filled with steroids injected into the brain; Ponce de Leon remembered his first: He bellowed to the seas- -“Barco a la vista”. Vespucci, Columbus, Magellan like a chorus joined in imaginary song – -all remembered and regaled: So did a roster of identified and unidentified ancient mariners: From near and far Phoenicians, Asians and Hemingway’s Old ManSantiago crossed earths’ transmarine atop ships discovering new worlds powered by jets:
My first time a bit more subtle: My first was more than exhilarating- -more than joy: It was a beginning filled with so many meanings- – to be learned in so little time:
I became steeped in excitement and abounding invitations to discover: Rabbit holes everywhere: I simply wished my first time- -would be to stand awkwardly in front of my mirror proudly: My voice to issue- -“I had come through:” Desirously I might breathe; “I, successfully mated- -my eyes and mind”:
I am a large human jigsaw standing naked- -mirrored in the moments past and tomorrow: Fictional omens seen in fractions of a lifetime await ahead. I hear the composer Dominic Frontiere’s The Outer Limits playing repeatedly in my dreams: I see a world at times, through cinema’s Soylent Green; Edgar G.Robinsons’ character embodying an ode to life and death: The character accepts the end: The Tchaikovsky and Beethoven symphony’s play like dueling parades accompanying the dying man to another life; He relinquishishes his fears and embraces- – the afterlife.
Detail of New York Con Edison Building.
The emotional scenic serenity captures the palette of the air, the color of the sky, the temperature of the warm blue sky clouds about. Words; noon, afternoon, twilight and nightfall- -morph into one frame: I could be with him in spirit: I stand before my moment: I am alone with me myself and I.
Many aeons ago there was a house in view: It stood alone: My first architectural commission was near at hand: It was where I first captured the light of architecture- -architecture’s light.
There pressed against the grass an alligator with an undulating pulse unwaveringly stared: It’s chromatic vibrant eyes wore floating slits as in a cross bearing doomsday purveyor: I stood nearly frozen and near the other frozen: Afar, vaporous clouds dodging idly above the ocean while mists lounged over the canals: Speed boats clamored for admiration: An imagined coliseum became home to an attendance of gathering animals: The duel of wills was in full display: Quietude hid amid the remaining fauna and flora; I became me.
Seville, Spain: Triana Oeste.
Reverie is a tricky part of the brain: What do I truly remember: Were there other people: Did I hear running water: Did I feel a warm current underneath the surface: Did the grass so slightly move. Did sounds accumulate as if just maybe there were more alligators: Are there such things as invisible vapors amorphously circling: I think there may have been three voices near: Why didn’t the alligator(s)attack:
I could nearly hear George Simenon’s Maigret solving my imaginary machinations: I was alone with voices and an alligator: Was it a feeling: Modernist architecture in view: One millennium of the American south in abundance: A recollection of the Mason Dixon line- -Ponce de Leon- -All things possible- – The Fountain of Youth- -A leap of faith: The heat of middle earth- -What might happen will; A mixed bag of thoughts and imaginations; Lend me your trust in my memory: I will never show those particular pictures.
Isay Weinfeld and Zaha Hadid meet their neighbor.
The post Architecture of Cities: Mapping Beauty IV appeared first on CounterPunch.org.
From CounterPunch.org via this RSS feed