from the grave pt. 2

after arriving at dean and nevins street we were allowed a few free days out of the cells to roam the land of new york. being the cruel trick by our captors it was, we enjoyed swooning in its offerings, letting our eyes run free in the land of diversity even if our bodies would never escape the city on the eastern seaboard.
when trapped in an urban jungle and struggling for life one seeks those who survive in the harshest of conditions. survival becomes contagious. our journey brought to attention the struggle of trees within new york. few and far inbetween, they become an interesting creature emerging from the concrete as a testament to nature.

tree of nevins street struggles to be seen by the metropolitan citizens, in the dead of winter it is difficult


tree of madison avenue buried thick in the central layout of the city disguises itself from the viewer by pretending to be an art nouveau lightpost


although the city harshly ostracizes the subtleties of nature within its buildings and vehicles, there are several moments of hope. the central park haven supplies the drowning new yorker with all the nature they can handle. central park was an island within an island on our trip, it was our final fleeting moment of life, before we headed back to the cells for rations.


of course on the way back nature began to take a back seat again.


organic turned to mechanical


and industry taunted us with imitation. two mechanized trees stretch out to us with cold steel branches


harrowed by the trip outside seeking refuge, we were drawn back to our future grave. was it the loss of hope within the city walls that drove us back, or just the call of our stomachs for food, i dont know, but it was our last dance with the outside world. and i didnt even get to see the symbol of freedom that every immigrant looked to as a beacon of light for new lives in the early twentieth century; the statue of liberty!

oh wait. yes i did. and it renewed my faith in the united states of america.