Posts Tagged ‘163rd Street’

In which The Gay Recluse sees remnants of craft in the morning commute. This is where we stand every morning to wait for the train. And dream of stenciling this pattern onto the walls of our office. Advertisements


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station. Consider the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest shades of gold and silver, […]


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station. Consider the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest shades of gold and silver, […]


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station. Consider the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest shades of gold and silver, […]


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station. Consider, if you will, one of the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest […]


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station. Consider, if you will, one of the old panels on the subway platform wall, and observe the finely wrought precision with which each strip of peeling paint has by the hands of time been distressed in the subtlest […]


In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station.