...about bikes & bridges, junkyards & sunsets and a walk among tombstones
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
– Lao Tzu
One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.
– Henry Miller
Bikes & Bridges
This early October weather is making me melancholic. The Fall has arrived with the last warm days and I’m looking at my bike sadly. I will have to retire it soon for the winter, because either the wind or the cabs will become even more merciless once November arrives. I’ve decided to take it out for a serious spin. I have 30 km on my marker and 2 brochures are occupying my oversized pants pockets. One is for the Green-Wood Cemetery, the other one for PioneerWorks.
I’m exploring the deepest secrets of Brooklyn, to put a more dramatic touch on my Sunday itinerary. Both locations were only vague notions a few hours ago. Like so many random adventures in New York, I stumbled upon them through friends, who were told by other friends of friends. The thrill of discovering an extraordinary experience is a treasure hunt New Yorkers constantly engage in, hence, I often advise visitors against over-planning when coming here. Most memorable way to experience the city is to chase its curiosities for a while. Something incredible will fall on your head at a moment, when you are taking a shortcut through that seemingly dodgy street in Chinatown or elsewhere. It will make you fall in love with the thrill and probably hate it a bit too, because there is so much to do, so much to take in, and so much to miss out at the same time.
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| A Brooklyn curiosity - The Clocktower Radio |
Riding a bike in New York isn’t exactly relaxing at any point. It requires the focus of a surgeon. When I tell people this is how I commute EVERYWHERE, at ANY time of the day and in ANY footwear and outfit, most of them give me the slow eye-scan that’s clearly evaluating my mental stability. It’s true there is a high probability of being sandwiched between a garbage truck and a cab, the drivers of which are still figuring out how driving works or run over a pedestrian, who’s texting while crossing on red. I won’t even try to paint a better image; it is THAT bad, but I also love cycling THIS much.
A Walk Among The Tombstones
First stop - the cemetery. I’ve put my bike to a halt a few comfortable meters away from the entrance. The distance allows me to examine the view and finalize the internal debate on whether or not to go in. Let me put it this way - cemeteries ain’t my jam. Of all the places I could roam, this would probably classify quite low on my bucket list, somewhere between walking barefoot through a dumpster and dining in one of those Bangkok dancing establishments. Today I’m nudging myself out of that comfort zone, I keep hearing about.
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| Main gate to Green-Wood Cemetery |
The Green-Wood pasture for the eternal peace is not exactly what I expected. The main gate reminds me of Sagrada Familia – the beautiful Gothic arch needs almost its own background angel choir. The cemetery map gives me the scare. The size of this thing implies I can walk around for days without being found - hiking paths, several chapels and a number of lakes are at my disposal. It also seems to be a favourite spot for young Brooklyn moms with strollers, as well as joggers. The only thing the scenery seems to be missing is some free grazing sheep (ducks are present at the scene and quite territorial as I will find out quite fast).
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| View of Financial District |
I’m moving slowly towards some hills that open gorgeous views of the East River and Manhattan. My hesitant walk stays on the clearly marked paths. Graves aren’t fenced, there’s mostly grass and tombstones peeking out of it. There have been many daredevil bets in my teens, when conquering a cemetery at night was considered pretty badass. However, a walk through one during the day, which doesn’t involve visiting a resting member or a bottle of whiskey and a heavy metal video, is giving me the creeps. The reason - the notion of cemetery in Bulgaria is at the opposite end of Green-Woods. You won’t get directed for a walk or handed a map. Involvement with it is limited to unwritten rituals, which dictate bringing flowers, lighting a cigarette, having a drink with the dead, but overall just feeling sad that someone is gone. Death in the Balkans is wrapped in mystery and superstitions and it’s nothing anyone discusses with a light heart or feels in need to incorporate in daily search for fresh air. But the more I’m walking, the more I see why people choose this place. It’s, to no surprise, very peaceful. New York is quiet for a change, which allows me to find a good spot to sit down and soaks up the prime real estate imagery without distraction. As I’m pondering about these differences and my inherited emotional response, I see a pack of ducks has taken interest on me. Every time I avert my eyes, they use the chance to slowly sneak up, but before they get the chance to gang up on me and ask for my lunch money, I jump on my feet, shaking off the friendly ghosts and conflicting thoughts. It’s time for the next portion of the itinerary - PioneerWorks in Red Hook.
Junkyards & Sunsets
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| Retirement home for tubs |
Red Hook is a remote part of Brooklyn, which most New Yorkers connect with infrequent ferry trips to IKEA. It’s roads are solitary and they push me under imposing bridges, through neatly organised industrial zones, between buses and trucks. I get the occasional friendly honk and a wave. A bike is an exotic animal on these streets. The green parks and brownstone houses are gradually exchanged for factories and junkyards.
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| The sinks solitude |
I make a few stops to admire the yards. Despite their fairly one dimensional purpose, there is a highly artistic depth and solitude to their image. Old bathtubs & sinks, chandeliers, metal scraps from tables and chairs have been retired, neatly stacked behind a rusty fence. The weather has changed their shades kindly, giving them the definition of “Brooklyn cool”. The occasional graffiti complements the scenery, colours and shapes are looming into the backs of buildings like twisted tattoos. Red Hook is gritty, it’s like that pretty but tough girl at the bar you’ve been eyeing from afar, because you know she can punch you in the face.
One phrase marks the entrance to PioneerWorks - “In pursuit of magic”. The building is a tribute to a roman bath house, which has been gutted and its insides have been redecorated with art installations. There are multiple studios for artists and an art radio station, called Clocktower Radio, is pulling some funky tunes. The flyer for today lists a number of exhibitions and promises live music, which I’m anticipating the most.
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| Inside PioneerWorks |
The buzz from the collective exchange of ideas and photographs spills into the garden. Yes, there is some magic in here and the pursuit for it has gathered a highly artistic crowd. Among the display of bags with intricate poetic messages and the chime of frail wine glasses, a soft jazzy tune rushes in. Bonfires are lit as the sun slowly drowns into the water and another devastating Red Hook sunset paints the sky over the face of Lady Liberty. The harbour cranes are leaning towards each other like giraffes in love, and I push my way through the forest of phones to take pictures as well.
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| Giraffes in Love |
Ghosts begin to roam the night. Unconquered by progress, they still live here and wake up with the shadows under flickering street lamps, with the soft sighs of the cranes, with the hard labour infused storage buildings. And in the depth of Red Hook, there are many gems, but you have to make the commitment to dig through the junkyard.
A slow ride in the dark takes me back into the heart of Manhattan. At home, I pull the wrinkled flyers & maps out of my pockets and all the impressions of the day spill with them, making me feel light, intrigued and peaceful.
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| Through the garden |
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| Spooning in the PioneerWorks garden
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| The Neon Kitty seen in one of the art studios |
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Another lovely piece of writing <3
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