If the weather is inclement, that stroll takes place in a white, enclosed building. It consists of as many trips up and down a four-story staircase as many times as I can muster in the brief time alloted (I usually average a half-dozen times each way along these sixty-one steps). If Nature decrees to don some of her lovelier raiments, I hit the pavement around the neighborhood and walk. Whether indoors or out, an MP3 player (upgraded from my dilapidated old Discman shortly after these pics were shot) channels music in my ears--providing heart-pumping energy, melodramatic escapism, or intense contemplation depending on my mood.
One summer day a few weeks ago, I brought a camera and decided to snap some photos while I took my afternoon constitutional around the neighborhood. I realized that almost everything I photographed would likely vanish in a very short time, and after looking at the pictures, it occurs to me that some of those things already have disappeared. I'm glad I thought to capture them.
I don't have a lot of regard for the polished, shiny, faultless, impersonal face that the neighborhood's inexorably taking. Small wonder that a few layers of peeling wallpaper on a neglected old wall stimulate my senses far more than all the new shops and health clubs put together.
Hmm...Not very pop culture-y this time. OK, let's talk about what I was listening to at the time of these pictures: A mix-disc including:
Next time, some more pop culture. Thanks for joining me for the detour.