Long Straight Road

Coney Island Avenue is alternately fascinating and depressing, and last Saturday, returning from the tree tour, I realized that it is no more depressing in gloom than in the sun. A stone's throw from the flat and vast Avenue that leads to the Atlantic is genteel Victorian Flatbush, which, for all its picturesqueness, looks much better in fair weather.

V Formation

I just learned that in heraldy a downward pointing triangle is called a pile, which is kind of counterintuitive, but I like it. To me it represents the force of heaven pressing down on the earth, or the mandate of the soul on the fleshly persona, the redemption possible with the descent of Sophia.

Nadia's the only athlete I've ever fallen for. I was taking gymnastics at the Y in Arlington Virginia when she had her heyday. I had to give it up because I had a neurotic fear of the balance beam, which some lunatic wanted me to flip on, but I really loved the uneven bars.

I found a book on Prospect Park West about her last Sunday, Nadia Comaneci by Gloria D. Mikowitz, published 1977, that included the photo above. It talks about how solemn and shy she was, walking around with her doll in between her bouts of triumph. So much power in one so innocent! In this photo of her on the uneven bars I see her as a representation of heaven descending to earth with the deliberateness of provenance's iron web. As in the star of David, the feminine triangle of heaven descends upon the masculine triangle of earth, keeping him in check, properly informing his impulses, ridding him of the malignancies that result from the indulgences of fear and despair. He lifts her, she grounds him. That is, if the spirit isn't shut away in the basement somewhere because its tenderness is too hard to bear. I like to think that it'll crash through the door sooner rather than later.

Mommy Camp, Day 1

Monday, school shopping at the Atlantic Terminal, where the sunshine melted the soft serve so violently that an old woman sharing our bench had to walk away from the carnage.

Picnic dinner in the Nethermead. We almost got mowed down by a fascist biker getting her speed-gasm on coming down past the 16th St. entrance. She'd probably waited all day for that high. I watched a patrol SUV chase after her with sirens blaring. Is there a speed limit for bikers? Can they get penalized for wreckless endangerment?

But the gateway to paradise has always been guarded by monstrous creatures. Why am I surprised? We will not be deterred.



I'm pretty relaxed about the mommy camp, it's not much of a boot camp really. The only parameter is no highway travel, until this weekend when we drive to Virginia to visit my father and the Shenandoah County Fair. If you have any suggestions for places to visit while here in Brooklyn, I would love to hear them. I'm hoping to get to Added Value, the Jewish Children's Museum, and the Waterfront Museum. But we'll see.

twist, again..again...again....

The knackered Rose of Sharon's still got me magoogled.

Citgo on 4th Avenue

Not only is my lifestyle petroleum dependent, but this logo is crack for my eyeballs. What am I gonna do?

The arrangement bears some similarities to this Marsden Hartley painting from 1914, Berlin Abstraction.

68 Jay St. Lobby

It takes dedication to fashion the words "Trade Mark Registered" in tile work. These days you never even see that in print. This must have been made back in the days when dedicated labor, taste, pride and skill went into buildings. If this building were constructed today, I wonder what the floor would look like.

I wonder about these companies, the ETA, Grand Union and Jones Bros. The ETA logotype looks a scale.

One-Pie

I bought this attractive can of squash in Patuxet Village, RI. It was processed by the One Pie Canning Co. of Paris Maine. The typography at the top seems old, the bottom possibly new, but who knows. I wonder how old the design really is. Love seeing a wedge of pie on the label. I wonder if anyone even knows how to make type that rips like it used to. Perhaps people have lost the sense of it due to the presence of synthetic chemicals in the ground water. God knows what else has been lost.

The price was $1.89 at Lindsay's Market, while a can of 365 brand pumpkin from Whole Foods cost only $.99, but being a sucker I bought the One Pie, because I'm in love with the can. I wonder if it would be at all beneficial to adopt "One Pie" as my mantra for meditation. I think it would.

I hope you enjoy the can of One-Pie. It has nothing to do with Brooklyn, but it is a nice can.

4th Avenue Triangles

So many logos incorporate triangles. I'd love to see them all together for a family picture.

Triangles (and other shapes) in the Circle

This menorah that stands on the North side of Bartel Pritchard Square (circle), greeting cars heading South on Prospect Park West, compels me. The fact that it presents triangles within a circle seems alchemical, and it also reminds me of a Southwestern Indian power motif you might see. It reminds me of a broom or feather duster, which is a fact I find significant as you shall see if you bear with me. It also echoes the forms of the nearly leafless Horse Chestnut trees in the circle, and if you ask me I would wager that a menorah is one of the many tree of life forms you find in sacred traditions.

I learned this year that the menorah for Hanukkah is called a Hanukkiah. See how cute one little "i" can make something? I also learned that Hanukkah means "rededicate," referring to the cleansing and consecration of the temple after it was defiled. I was so happy to discover these facts in a child's sticker book I picked up used at Babbo's.

Knowing this has meant a lot to me and brought me peace for some reason. It brings me the light of a new beginning, the brightness of dawn. Another day rededicated to attuning to the first light. The buoyancey felt after rearranging the furniture.