November 22, 2016

More Overpass Concrete
More Overpass Concrete

Each of these seems to be a new abstract painting.  There are dozens of them on the overpass that spans the railroad tracks, all with their cracks, rust, and exposed rebar.  They seem like an amalgam of Rothko (blocky bands) and Johns (gray paintings) and Newman (“zips”) and maybe a bit of Twombly at the bottom?

They tell a story, perhaps many stories.  Today, though, I’m haunted by the story of 53 years ago.  Everyone my age remembers where we were when we heard.  I happened — this is truly bizarre — to be doing a math problem in set theory, during study hall, that addressed “the set of all presidents who died in office.”  He was already the stuff of legends, both good and bad, and this certainly cemented the legend, as it were.  Weighted in concrete.

4 thoughts on “November 22, 2016”

  1. Thank you for remembering. I thought of that yesterday, too, but seemed to go unnoticed, at least on social media. My experience wasn’t that bizarre for sure, but certainly something I will never forget. I was on my way to lunch and one of the cheerleaders, an older girl that would probably even notice me on a regular day, looked me in the face as we passed each other in the hall, and told me that the President had been shot. Today I would probably have hugged her, but that was then. It’s also amazing to look at ourselves, and how we’ve changed, and hopefully grown, through the tragedies in our lives, whether personal or universal. May we all, and I mean all, survive the current one. Sorry for all my words, but your pictures and words so often touch, and inspire me.

    1. Oh Jan, I do thank you, for your words and your thoughts. Finding the pictures and seeing what thoughts they evoke in me is rewarding in itself, AND knowing that others are also looking and thinking and feeling is the reason for sharing!

  2. How bizarre! My memories of that day probably reflect the experience of many high school students. Our orchestra class was turned into a study hall, a few students weeping. We felt very vulnerable, the Cold War being on and us living in what was said to be the crossroads of the world.

    When life is uncertain, we gravitate to things that appear solid and concrete, so your photo is particularly apt. I like this image very much, just for itself.

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