Urban Stillness by Chipka
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
No AI - This artwork was created entirely by hand or with traditional digital tools.
Description
Click Here to listen.
If he is awake late enough he will see the bars empty themselves, like wounded animals, bleeding.
In darkness, he may stand on a corner (here) or a bus stop (there) and listen to the random chatter of talk, or the wooden click-clack-click of stiletto heels on cracked and weathered concrete, or on asphalt gone gray. In a wash of sodium vapor light, pressurized and electrified, he may brush by one or another of them, stealing dry warmth from cotton, denim, or something more expensive. It is never his own; he moves in a different social orbit. He occupies a quieter place. Friends are a remote presence: digitized. They live in different planes, different time zones.
He is awake now, but it is not late enough. The bars are engorged and throbbing at 140 beats per minute: twice the average human heart rate. It is early and he will be elsewhere when they bleed into emptiness. He will not steal brief contact through a constellation of accidental touches. He will not wonder at snippets of random conversation—fragments without beginning or end. He will not record what he hears. Not tonight, at any rate.
Instead, he reads strange poetry from the face of his iPhone: random declarations from a friend in another time-zone, another world. It is strange, cryptic poetry: ominous and plaintive in precisely the same digitized breath. It is common for him to receive such messages: poetic rambles translated into English, and—sometimes—accompanied by an image: a fragment of a building, a leaf, dead in a gutter with gum wrappers or shattered glass.
There is no image, now.
There is only text: a challenge…a declaration…a snippet of something drifting through a distant friend’s convoluted head.
The fury of angels
Thunders in the night
While Jove weeps bitter tears
Onto the petals of dead roses.
The words mean something, but he cannot decipher them…
* * *
I took this photograph (using my camera’s newly-discovered) Sepia function on my way to Corey’s place. It was Friday night. The bars were not yet crowded. The el platform (at Fullerton) was relatively empty. I stood, waiting for a train, still swimming in images of London as read in China Miéville’s novel Kraken. I saw a stranger in tattered jeans, in sandals, and a weathered tee shirt. Unlike many guys I’ve seen in this city, he wore as much facial hair as I often find in a mirror as I pass it. I saw a garbage bin. Later, in listening to music, I felt the beginnings (or not) of a story, and recalled a line of unwritten poetry discovered floating through my head while watching The Matrix Reloaded on DVD with Corey.
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all at the beginning of a great week.
Comments (18)
Most enjoyable! the story and this image fit exactly. ******* I am reminded of something overheard on the tannoy in my local supermarket, where all the workers are shareholders in the company. I stored it in a braincell to pass on to you: it made me laugh, but for you it could be a seed of something quite 'other'. " Will an Ambient Partner please come to the loading bay."
marvelous image and text!
SUPERB IMAGE! A GREAT COMPOSITION AGAIN!
cool shot
Awesome
first... thanks for the music link and story... like this sepia style photo !! fits perfect too !!
love the monochrome treatemnt
Nice image, and thanks for the link to the song. The Social Network was an awesome movie.
Very cool. I like the sepia.
Awesome sepia tone, a lot of emotion in this candid portrait- thanks for sharing! :)
Selina Photography™
Stunning capture my friend. God Bless.
It's a really intriguing storylet...the beginning of a longer one, I think. I hope. Anyway, once again your wonderfully fertile mind has taken me somewhere "else" for a bit, and that's always a good thing!
A classic moment in time image !
I love the image! I didn't go anywhere near where you went, but nonetheless, my musings were entertaining ... to me, at least! LOL! The man is ignoring the trash can. Is the trash can ignoring the man as well, or is it trying to get his attention? Is it, perhaps, ready to pounce? I remember a bit from the original Electric Company show called Love of Chair. It was a soap opera about a boy in a room with a chair. The voiceover invariably went something like this: "The boy is standing. The chair is standing. The wall is standing. (pregnant pause with dramatic music) Tune in next week. Will the boy sit down? Will the chair sit down? Will the WALL sit down? (ultra-dramatic chords) And ... What about ... Naomi???" I liked your story a lot, but my own brain entertainment cracked me up. Wow. Are you sure you want to be friends with me??? LOl!
For a brief moment, I was there in whitewashed wonder.
love all the lines and angles of this awesome capture... chills and thrills
Realising (UK spelling) I was overdue for a look at your gallery I fired up my browser, and this image just grabbed me immediately. I think I've always been most impressed with your urban series of Chicago. You always manage to capture something beyond definition. This image is gritty and realistic, and so much more than the sum of its parts. Perhaps it's because your subject appears unaware of your attention. I'm reminded of exhibitions I've seen of vintage photography, not just because of the sepia - it's the mood you create. You really should exhibit stuff like this - this is master photography! Now I've re-read what I've typed it doesn't seem to make much sense, but I know what I mean, and hope you do too.
I liked the starkness of both and the effects of the Sepia look. Dana