New Yorkers are an expressive lot, and they don't always confine their efforts to the typical media.
When I was eight we moved from the old walk-up on 106th Street to a newly constructed building on West 97th. No more ancient fire escape; this apartment came with a 36 foot terrace. Said terrace was industrial grey, which immediately displeased my Italian grandma.
"Franzee Franzee go outside and draw some bella fiori on the floor - roses."
What fun it was to paint giant red and yellow roses, with a pathway lined with muli-colored daisies. The terrace floor stayed just that way until Grandma left that apartment for the last time in 2003. Though faded my thirty-four year old fiori were still quite visible.
Since 2000 I have photographed quite a bit of what I like to call Urban Art.
Here's a few bits from my personal album.
When I was eight we moved from the old walk-up on 106th Street to a newly constructed building on West 97th. No more ancient fire escape; this apartment came with a 36 foot terrace. Said terrace was industrial grey, which immediately displeased my Italian grandma.
"Franzee Franzee go outside and draw some bella fiori on the floor - roses."
What fun it was to paint giant red and yellow roses, with a pathway lined with muli-colored daisies. The terrace floor stayed just that way until Grandma left that apartment for the last time in 2003. Though faded my thirty-four year old fiori were still quite visible.
Since 2000 I have photographed quite a bit of what I like to call Urban Art.
Here's a few bits from my personal album.
