My sister just granted me a 7.5 x 10" Moleskin journal that's just the perfect size and binding to inspire the unforeseen, color coded, accidental route maps of every 12 hour taxi shift, which was my intention all along. For 6 months I forced myself to remain loyal to one of those ubiquitous Mead composition books until its very end, disregarding how detrimental the obnoxious lines were to my cartographic gumption. It was an attempt to curb a compulsion to start over on blank new journals, which dates back to teenagehood as a newborn collage journalist. Ironically, the 200th (last) page synchronized itself with the start of a new season.
Now I hope to proliferate this untapped form of artistic taxi cartophilia, definitely scanning it into the blog, and perhaps even blowing it up to fill gallery walls some day. If nothing comes of it, at least I can say I tried. For now I'll leave you with a few shots from around the garage I lease out of, and the neighborhood(s) it's nestled in. These pictures are in fact yet another branch of my 'taxi art' initiative, even though photography relating to taxicabs is nothing new to the world of books and blogs.
Also, I know I've been slacking on my posts. It was not my intention to fall off the face of the planet. Although I did leave town for a month, I still have plenty of worthwhile taxi material from before that, and now I'm back on the cadmium yellow beat. I just need some time to consolidate my words. Also, I'd like to start creating 'taxi poetry', since most of what I have to share are multiple, incongruent bits and pieces of fleeting moments that are hard to put into whole paragraphs and solid story lines. Ten minute slices from dozens of people's life pies. Street scenes flown past and witnessed, but not fully understood. Unique traffic quirks that only last seconds, but are not forgotten because they resemble fiberglass acrobatics or lane melting pneumatics. These things can only be gathered into poem-like bodies of script. Good morning to Greenpoint and its adjoining hoods.
