Matt Weber (Street photography), Old New York, Urban Landscape

Lower East Side 1989

I was thrilled to find this image. It think it was taken on East Houston Street. This view of late Nineteenth century housing is probably very different today. If the buildings are still standing, there would be a few air conditioners in the windows. Over half of the tenants who were living here would have been replaced with upscale and much younger ones. They were known as “Yuppies” back in the day….

 

Ah the good old days!

 

Street Photography © Matt Weber

Matt Weber (Street photography), Old New York, signs, Urban Landscape

“We Love You” 1989

Yesterday I watched the Gay Pride parade and felt proud to be a New Yorker. Andrew Cuomo, like his dad Mario, has turned out to be a decent man. This bill allowing same sex marriage, has made a lot of people angry. The “keyboard warriors” have come out and many are furious. I enjoy how little anti gay bias I’ve seen on Facebook. I’m sure many of the keyboard warriors who post under aliases at other sites, are aware of how bad they would look on Facebook, posting their hateful comments under their own names…

Such spineless bastards!

Street Photography © Matt Weber

Matt Weber (Street photography), Uncategorized, Urban Landscape

“The Coffee Stain Poet” 2010

You may wonder how rare a “Coffee Stain Human” is and the answer is, very rare. In twenty five years I’ve only encountered four of them. Do they matter? Do Siskind’s paint splotches matter? Try finding human coffee stains. This one may be the best of all, as he’s a struggling poet, with a cup of coffee in one hand, and his trusty #2 pencil in the other. He’s frantically scribbling haiku before the next rain comes and washes him away…

Street Photography © Matt Weber

Matt Weber (Street photography), America, Urban Landscape

“On The Road”

So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey
and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, all the
people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the
children cry, and tonight the stars’ll be out, and don’t you know that God is Pooh Bear? the evening star must be drooping and
shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens
all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what’s going to happen to anybody besides
the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found,
I think of Dean Moriarty… ©Jack Kerouac