I've been busy the last few days with management meetings, mostly running from office to office and keeping people happy. However, there was a full day off-site meeting recently on the 44th floor of a relatively new high-rise on 57th Street. We had the entire floor to ourselves, and before the meetings got underway, I walked around and snapped a few pictures. Here's one:
A good view of the Hudson, Jersey City in the distance, down 8th Avenue from 57th. As I snapped this, I noticed several other people in the room doing the same thing. I laughed, and commented, "Isn't it strange, we've all lived in the New York area for years, we've been in so many skyscrapers, and here we are taking pictures?" One woman, who lives in Manhattan, replied "Yes, but you need to do this to remind yourself just how special it is sometimes. We tend to take it for granted." I agree. We don't usually stop to enjoy what we've got available to us.
I took several more pictures, and turned to head back to the meetings. I was immediately struck by three photos hanging on the wall. All were similar, but each had a different feel. They were pictures of steam trains, at night, moving through small towns. Every photo was a different town, but at a similar angle with similar lighting. The town names were documented, as were the times the photos were taken, all around 5am. The photographer was someone I'd never heard of before, O. Winston Link. I decided to find out more about him, and was surprised to see how accomplished he was. He even has a museum dedicated to his work. I doubt I have many reasons to get to Roanoke, but if I do this will be one stop I make. Below is one photo which was hanging in the room, but not part of the three that had caught my eye. This is a very evocative photo, conjuring up images of my parents' teen years. I do miss the drive-in theaters.
It amazed me how much art there was on the 44th floor, enough to keep me occupied for some time. However, I had meetings to attend. So I took time during lunch and breaks to go out and look at the other pieces. Even if you're the most avowed anti-capitalist, it's hard to argue that art can't thrive in a free market. I certainly see plenty, some not as enjoyable, in the offices I visit.
But it's hard to beat the natural wonder of a view from a high floor in New York. So I'll just leave you with a few other pictures I took. When I was much younger, I played softball on the fields visible in Central Park. Tore my ACL playing catcher, a position I am not suited for and decided to fill in only because nobody else was willing to play it. There wasn't even a play at the plate to make it an exciting story.
