summertime eats.
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The ongoing summer heat has prompted much hankering for cold soba noodles and agedashi tofu, a hunger often satiated at Cocoron but in the top photo, at Soba-Koh in the East Village this past weekend. Most delicious.
Also on tap this weekend: a brisket sandwich, some Sichuan cucumbers, and dan-dan noodles, all found at Smorgasburg. (Unclear why, in a space filled with food vendors, there are only five tables in the gigantic non-bar area.) We snagged a table and wolfed down our food, then got over our crowd anxieties and heatstroke with some bourbon peach lemonades (thanks, Brendan!).
Up next: Los Angeles for an 11-day vacation of sorts. Many taco trucks and hole in the wall Thai places in my near future!
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later, princeton.
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Such beautiful light. I’m going to miss you!
Starting this fall: weekends in DC/VA/MD. Including, hopefully, this place. I’m looking forward to taking photos in slightly different suburban light and climes. Fingers crossed that it’ll be as lush and green as central New Jersey proved to be.
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daniel, saturday morning.
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Feeling fairly unenthusiastic about being out and about on Saturday morning, despite the gorgeous weather outside — I’d received some sad, unexpected news from a dear friend earlier that morning, and wanted little more than to burrow under the covers a while longer — I coaxed my friend Daniel into picking up some breakfast sandwiches and coffee from the local bodega and bringing it over to my place. We tucked into our meal and updated each other about recent goings-on, and then opened up the weekend paper for some post-prandial reading. I brought the Hasselblad downstairs and snapped a few polaroids; you can see the lot of them, unintentionally arranged ever-so-artfully, over here at Daniel’s flickr page.
This one here is my favorite.
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nyc, recently.
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I’m currently experiencing very ambivalent feelings about NYC.
Things that have put the city in a better light (or at least me in a better mood):
– Reading the LRB on the subway. Deeply satisfying, and the commute to work goes by in an instant.
– Phone calls with faraway friends.
– The soppressata pie at Motorino. Don’t take my word for it; this is the stuff of universal high praise.
– The other night I came home to find my housemates on the front stoop, enjoying some wine and shooting the proverbial shit. I joined them for a while before heading upstairs to bed. Front stoop + good company + wine + the city cooled down after a rainstorm = perfect.
These photos are sorta helping, too. But the funk persists. Hmmm.
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recent polaroids.
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[Polaroids taken last Friday — 4 in and around the local, and 1 in Boerum Hill.]
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asymptote.
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I am very, very pleased to let you guys know that some of my photos are featured in the summer issue of Asymptote, a great online journal of literature in translation. The editors sent me a handful of pieces that needed illustration, and we worked together to come up with what I think are some pretty great matches of photos and text. One of my photos — of my bathroom in my home, as you might recall! — even graces the main page of the site.
Suffice it to say that I am beaming with delight. Go check out the issue! A wealth of wonderful writing, ready to derail you from your workweek.
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a fine mess.
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Just after brunch at Foragers City Table* in Chelsea, tooling around with the multiple exposure function on the Rolleicord V.
* Order the fried eggs with Rancho Gordo beans; if you’re feeling especially hungry or ready to face the day, ask for the pork belly add-on. All glorious.
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this way, that way, stripes every way.
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Erin and Mike, on and around July 4th.
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peter, monika, shannon.
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Regulars near the local, all photographed this week.
Have a great weekend! Stay cool!
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joseph k.
It started like this.
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I’d been taking some photos of Shannon with the Rolleicord, trying to take advantage of the remaining few minutes of light before sunset. Then, out of nowhere, this fellow popped up in my viewfinder. I waited a few seconds for him to wander out of the frame, but he stood there, motionless. I snapped the photo and looked up. He walked over to me and Shannon with a quizzical look on his face. I’ve become somewhat accustomed to this — walk around with an old twin lens reflex camera from the 1950s, and people will sometimes give you funny looks.
The fellow asked what sort of camera it was. I held it out so he could see. He peered at it, then looked up at us. “What are you doing in the middle of the street?” “Taking photos before the sun goes down.” “Ah.” There was a long pause. I figured I’d go for it, do what I almost never do with strangers. “Mind if I take your photo?” He stared at me for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Sure. Where should I stand?”
I told him to stand right where he was. He looked down at his shirt, then started fiddling with the chains around his neck. “Hold on,” he said. “I’d like for you to be able to see my cross, even though” — and here he motioned to his forearm, where there was a tattoo of the Star of David — “I was born a Jew.” He laughed. I snapped the photo below.
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I asked him what his name was. “After you take the photo I’ll show you,” he said. And then, chain-fiddling complete, he stood stock-still for me. I snapped again. When I put the camera down, he looked curiously at me. “Can I see what you took?” I showed him the back of the camera and explained that it wasn’t digital, so there wasn’t anything to see. He seemed disappointed. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Inside there was an ID/entry card for a Brooklyn area hospital. And there his name was, “Joseph K—.” “Hi, Joseph,” Shannon and I said. Joseph smiled, then asked if we could spare a dollar — regretfully, we had ambled out of the local to take the photos, leaving our bags inside — and when we shook our heads, pointing out that we didn’t have our purses on us, he shrugged one last time, and went on his way.
It is a shame that in that moment, my excitement and curiosity running high, I moved ever so slightly; the final photo ended up slightly blurred. But I’m showing it here anyway, because that’s the way he wanted to be seen: with his cross — and his tattoo — in plain view.
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Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Shannon asked if he was a Man United supporter. “Oh. No no. Not at all,” he said.
You’re a good man, Joseph K. Thanks for letting me take your photo. I owe you one.
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hong-an tran 