"The question of the city as a work of art , however, presents itself explicitly
and scientifically above all in relation to the concepton of the nature of collective artifacts,
and I maintain that no urban research can ignore this aspect of the problem. How are collective urban artifact related to works of art? All great manifestations of social life have in common with
the work of art the fact that they are born in unconscious life. This life is collective in the former, individual in the latter;but this only secondary difference because one is a product of the public and the other is for the public: the public provides the common denominator. "
Aldo Rossi
The Architecture of the City
SMO©2012
Lazy Morning
Another work day ! my legs were acting up against my schedule, reluctantly I get up and dressed. Half an hour later I was in the tunnel headed for downtown. I had an appointment for an eye exam. When I come out of the Chambers Street Subway station the city appeared lost of her colors, buildings, shops, cars, people, they were resembling the old faded black and white photographs forgotten years in the some one's attic. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, grounds were covered with moving bodies of gray objects. I felt cold chill on my skin, the temperature must be dropped down down drastically over the night. There was a construction activity going on ; construction barriers set up both end of the Chamber street, no vehicle traffic allowed. Couple of heavly dressed flag man were guiding the traffic, I wait few minutes, stand there aimlessly, pretending not knowing which direction to go, I watched her; the flag women, she must be in her twenties, medium height , dark brown eyes, she was wearing a hoody, under her hard hat, she was holding a slow sign , her construction clothes were clean, did not seem she was one of them, I look around to see if there is a camera crew; may be they are shooting a commercial I thought, but no one was seemed to be around, others paid no attention to her. Every now and then here crowd of people pouring in and out of the Subway station, piling up on the intersection, a little later disappearing among the buildings. Cross the street I spotted a brand name coffee shop, I had a urge for caffeine; quickly cross the street and I walked in the shop, I noticed the place was annoyingly packed, "s" shape line formed in front of serving counter, a young women walking along the line taking customers orders; there must be radical surge on the numbers of caffeine addicts this morning, I reasoned. I walked out of the store with a warm cup of tall bold in my hand, I checked the time, it was quarter past nine, I had another fifteen minutes to kill before the appointment. I walked back towards the little triangle park between W. Broadway and Hudson Street, Bogardus Garden, named after a famed 19th century New York City architect James Bogardus, who is success came from a series of cast Iron structures, eventually lead to widespread use of steel frame construction throughout the city. From the distance I noticed sparkling shinny crystals on the low reaching shrubbery, when I get close I realized they were no other then frozen icicles, the nature paradox were at work, entire foreground of the garden covered with icicles shone like diamonds, above and behind full blown cherry-blossom trees were smiling, after all it was April 27th.
SMO©2012
