BKLYN 11211

Taking pride in the hood, Southside style.

CONSUMED: Broadway near Berry, Williamsburg (Brooklyn)

Roebling paste up

There was a period of about six weeks where my bike was out of commission thanks to a busted rear axle. All of a sudden, everything became so much further away: what used to be a 7-minute ride was now a 40-minute walk. But there was one celebrated ritual, albeit a short-lived one, that I developed during those days as a pedestrian. The 25-minute walk to the Saturday farmer's market took me passed one of my favourite neighbourhood coffee shops to pick up a cup of drip or americano (depending on my mood), and then down Roebling towards the park where the market was set up.

It was on the northern end of Roebling, where it turns into a warehouse wasteland with forgotten loading docks infringing upon the sidewalk, that I encountered some of my favourite graffiti in the city: paste ups by some unknown artist. Every week on that walk, I would pause, coffee burning my fingers through the paper cup and mitten, and admire these beautiful portraits.

Now I'm back on the saddle, and though I love my two-wheeled steed, I often wonder how much I miss when my feet push pedals rather than pavement.

CONSUMED: Roebling Ave, between N9th and N10th; Williamsburg (Brooklyn)

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P.S. If you can identify the artist, please let me know! I would love to give her/him credit for their work.

facade of Lee's Palace

I decided to walk down Bloor because I hadn't been in the city for nearly a year, and something always seems to change between visits. This time around, the Dominion had become a Metro, a brand new coffee shop had sprung up on the corner of Bathurst, and the Blockbuster had transformed into a brand new shiny Sobeys.

But I was happy to see that Lee's Palace was still the same, with its busy facade that always seemed to be on the edge of something lewd if I looked hard enough. Lee's Palace with its incredibly divey second floor where I would dance many a weekend during my university years. Lee's Palace where I almost got in a fight outside with a random (or rather a friend of a friend I had just met that night almost got in a fight and I wasn't sure if I was going to have to get in a fight alongside him). Lee's Palace where I got drunk on my birthday and my friend had to throw my arm over her shoulder and carry me home. So many memories; so glad it's still around to remind me.

CONSUMED: Lee's Palace; 529 Bloor St, The Annex (Toronto)

we hold these truths to be self evident

Call me a romantic, but these signs seem to mean more when they're posted in poorer neighbourhoods.

CONSUMED: Dyckman/200th St A-train subway station; Dyckman and Broadway, Inwood (Manhattan)

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P.S. Happy American Thanksgiving, everyone.

sunrise in Jackson Heights

Very rarely do I wake up earlier than the sun. Hey, it's a competition I'm happy to lose. But on those few occasions when I do win, such as in order to get to the airport on time for an early flight, you get to catch glimpses of what makes urban mornings so goddamn beautiful.

CONSUMED: 82nd St/Jackson Heights 7-train subway station; 82nd St and Roosevelt Ave, Jackson Heights (Queens)

robot mural

This vibrant mural (the work of R. Nick Kuszyk) is up on the wall of the 24 hour laundromat somewhat near to my place. It's very graphic, just how I like it.

CONSUMED: N 3rd, between Metropolitan and Bedford; Williamsburg (Brooklyn)

shadow tracings

One recent evening, likely around 6pm (the time when the long shadows emerge during these ever-shortening autumn days), someone got down on their hands and knees, a stick of chalk in hand, and proceeded to outline the shadows cast by a bike and street sign on the corner of Bedford and N 5th.

Yes, I know this is old stuff. I mean, the NY Times ran a piece in 2005! I doubt it's even Ellis G anymore. But it doesn't make it any less cool when you stumble upon it.

CONSUMED: NW corner of Bedford and N 5th St; Williamsburg (Brooklyn)

Brooklyn/Not Brooklyn

There's a dividing line running beneath the East River, one that separates Brooklyn from Manhattan. Here, on the pedestrian path of the Williamsburg Bridge, one proud Brooklyner (it's obviously someone from Brooklyn) has decided to unearth that invisible line, letting fellow Brooklyners know when they have ventured off their turf, and welcoming them home upon their inevitable return.

Oddly enough, it appears to correlate exactly with the apex of the bridge. Thus I look forward to it on every ride over the bridge; once I pass this point on my bike, it's all downhill from there.

CONSUMED: Williamsburg Bridge, over the East River