In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with The George Washington Bridge.

Time and Date of Pictures: June 10, 8:30-9:30ish

Sometimes you just know it’s going to storm.

Our windows were shaking, in part because they’re shitty windows, but also because it was so windy!

We wish we could say that the water was on the lens, and that we had braved the elements.

Still, lightning! On film!

For a moment we felt omnipotent, like it was coming from our fingertips.

And then we remembered that we have this new photo-editing software we have no idea how to use.

“The George Washington Bridge over the Hudson is the most beautiful bridge in the world. Made of cables and steel beams, it gleams in the sky like a reversed arch. It is blessed. It is the only seat of grace in the disordered city. It is painted an aluminum color and, between water and sky, you see nothing but the bent cord supported by two steel towers. When your car moves up the ramp the two towers rise so high that it brings you happiness; their structure is so pure, so resolute, so regular that here, finally, steel architecture seems to laugh. The car reaches an unexpectedly wide apron; the second tower is very far away; innumerable vertical cables, gleaming against the sky, are suspended from the magisterial curve which swings down and then up. The rose-colored towers of New York appear, a vision whose harshness is mitigated by distance.”

– Le Corbusier, When the Cathedrals Were White, 1947.