photographed in Chicago, Illinois on May 23, 2010

That shift is most evident at the Crown Fountain by Spanish sculptor Jaume Plensa, where extra-long cedar benches were installed last fall to give parkgoers a place to site as they watch the human gargoyles spit water from the twin glass-block towers. Unfortunately, the benches already have cracks in them and may get worse after enduring more of Chicago’s notorious freeze-and-thaw cycles. But for now, they are lined with people, and the fountain, more than ever, is an urban stage where the players are the children running through the fountain and the audience consists of tourists, office workers, and anybody else who wants to be where the action is.

Maybe it’s the universal appeal of watching kids cool themselves in the water on a hot summer day – the oasis phenomenon – but, for whatever reason, people drop their guard and converse. “Is the water cool?” a female office worker sitting on one of the benches asked a little girl, who was drying herself off after running through the fountain. “I don’t think I can come back to work wet.”

Excerpted from Terror and Wonder: Architecture in a Tumultuous Age by Blair Kamin. Published by the University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 2010.

photographed in Brooklyn, New York on July 2, 2011

Hence the faces: his sidewalk art, which began about two or three years ago pushing both body and mind to their limits. Morelo drew his record 2,056 faces during a marathon 13-hour session that announced his move to Brooklyn by covering it in his doodles. By the end of the endeavor, he said his hand was shaking and he was hallucinating, but believing that numbers are the way to attract attention, he continues to draw as many faces as he can. Almost two weeks ago, he covered a park in Queens with 1,160.

“I feel like artists have the chance to climb the social ladder. It gives you access,” Morelo said, while admitting some of his art is fueled by anger at his current situation. “By doing these faces… I still have to force myself to be strong, you know, physically and mentally.”

From donations Sunday, Morelo made about $75 (some of which was spent to take his girlfriend out for $2 falafel). Between donations such as these, occasional art sales, unemployment checks and food stamps, Morelo says he gets by, but he has gone through two short periods of homelessness. (Morelo also used to give “Free Advice” in Union Square on everything spanning from discontent in jobs to trouble in relationships, but stopped doing so after getting a ticket for accepting money without having a permit.)

In addition to faces, Morelo also draws “bad luck” and “good luck” spots – circles enclosing one phrase or the other in all caps – representing his philosophy that life is a balance. Believing street art allows everyone to be a judge of his work (provided they don’t just step on it), he hopes one day to penetrate the art world and find a gallery home. Some of his work is currently being featured as part of the annual biennial for the Museo del Barrio, whose curator he met while drawing on the subway.

Excerpted from ‘Face Value: Street Artist Scrawls During Pride Parade, Donations Cool‘ by Emily Foxhall. Published June 29, 2011, in the New York Observer.

photographed in Brooklyn, New York on July 10, 2011

The story, which is passed on through the generations on both sides of the Atlantic, is that around 410 AD, North African pirates overran the town of Nola. In the chaos, Bishop Paolino was able to flee into the countryside with some of the children. Upon his return, Paolino learned, from a sobbing widow that many of the young men, her son included, had been abducted into slavery. Moved to compassion, Paolino offered himself in exchange for the boy and was ferried off, a prisoner of the brigands. While in North Africa, word of the courage and self-sacrifice of Paolino spread and became known to a certain Turkish sultan. Taken with the tale of altruism, the sultan intervened, negotiating for the freedom of this holy man. Through the sultan ‘s efforts, Paolino and his paesani, were freed.

Overjoyed by his safe return, the entire town greeted him carrying lilies, symbolic of love and purity. That joyous homecoming jubilee is considered the very first observance of what would develop into an annual sacred event. Through the years, various trade guilds (farmer(ortolamo), butcher(beccaio), tailor(sarto), breadmaker(panettiere), blacksmith(fabbra), cobblers(calzolaio), deli merchants(salumiere), and wine makers(bettoliere) ) began to compete to produce the most sensational display of lilies. Over time, these displays became more flamboyant.

Today, although still called lilies (gigli), they have evolved into huge flower-laden steeples of wood, 50 feet or more in height. In Nola, these gigli structures and a boat (la barca) are carried through the streets on the shoulders of hundreds of men, in remembrance of the return of Paolino to Nola. The atmosphere is quite competitive and each guild hires the best lifters they can secure, because the carrying of the gigli is judged. Creativity of construction and musical accompaniment is also scrutinized even after the formal competition ends, and the men of Nola carry and dance the gigli throughout the night.

This is the tradition that was transplanted to Brooklyn, New York by the Nolani immigrants. It would be embraced stateside by all of those Italians who had emigrated from towns and villages surrounding Nola. World War II diverted the community’s energies (and men) in another direction and the Giglio Feast was discontinued temporarily. It would not be until June 22,1949 (the feast day of San Paolino) that this feast was reinstituted.

the 1950s, despite the controversy it caused in the community, The Shrine Church Of Our Lady of Mount Carmel took over the reins of this important feast. Almost immediately, the church combined the Giglio Feast with the feast honoring Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Since 1954 and the merging of the two saint days into one celebration (known as the Cooperative Feast), the Giglio Feast has been celebrated in July, with all activities leading up to its culmination on July 16th, the feast day of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Since the Cooperative Feast came into existence, there has been a juxtaposing of religious, secular, traditional, and ethnic components within this celebration.

Excerpted verbatim from ‘The Giglio Feast‘ as appearing on O’Giglio é Paradiso, the website of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, Brooklyn .

photographed in Washington Square, Manhattan, New York on June 25, 2011

There are many myths extant among these partially civilized tribes which exhibit their conceptions in reference to the appearance of the humanized divinities. They are very beautiful and full of poetical fancies; the imagery of them having been drawn from the magnificent scenery of the region and is resplendent with the colors with which the rocks and mountains were clothed and sparkles with jewels and precious stones which abound, as is as varied and striking as the vegetation which covered the mountains. The symbols also of the different tribes were derived from the scenery; many of them were invented to express the operations of nature, though the tribes borrowed symbols from one another as well as myths. Many of these myths and symbols were embodied in the sand paintings, which for a long time were unknown, but are now proving to be very interesting objects of study, for they are like the missals written during the middle ages. They are not only very beautiful, but they perpetuate the ancient traditions of the people; in fact, have preserved the sacred book from destruction.

These sand paintings show a wonderful taste for color, and at the same time reveal an elaborate symbol which represents the elaborate nature powers – such as the wind, rain, lightning and four points of the compass – also a familiarity with the sacred plants; but the most remarkable thing is that that gods of the sky are always represented as having the human form clothed with the sunbeams and the colors of the sky and adorned with rainbows, but controling [sic] the nature powers and guarding the plants. This is one peculiarity of anthropomorphism.

Excerpted from Myths and Symbols; or, Aboriginal Religions in America by Stephen Denison Peet. Published by the Office of the American Antiquarian, Chicago, 1905.

photographed in Providence, Rhode Island on February 20, 2010

In an Encyclical Letter, dated September 1st, 1883, His Holiness, Pope Leo XIII., wrote as follows, and in the year 1885, by a Decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, dated August 20th, the Holy Father confirmed the privileges and Indulgences granted in 1883 and allowed them to be gained each year until such time as peace and liberty be restored to the Church: “We therefore decree and enjoin that throughout the whole Catholic World the Rosary of the Mother of God be celebrated by special and solemn services in the present year, and that from the first day of October next to the second day of the following November, in every parish Church, and, if the ecclesiastical authorities deem it fitting and desirable, in every chapel dedicated to the honour of the Mother of God, there be devoutly recited, at least five decades of the Rosary together with the Litany of Loreto. It is our further wish that when the people are assembled for these devotions, either Mass be said, or that the Most Holy Sacrament be exposed on the Altar for adoration, and Benediction with the Sacred Host be given to the suppliant congregation. In places in which it can be done, We highly approve that Confraternities of the Rosary should go in solemn procession through the towns, according to ancient custom, as a public demonstration of their devotion; but, in those places, where this is not practicable, let it be replaced by more frequent visits to the churches, and let the fervour of devotion display itself by a still greater diligence in the exercise of Christian virtues.

Excerpted from The Rosary Guide for Priests and People by John Proctor. Published by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co. Ltd., London, 1901.

photographed in Boston, Massachusetts on June 4, 2011

There are definitely some advantages to purchasing an infant car seat as opposed to a toddler or convertible car seat. Most infant seats come equipped with a carrying handle, which allows you to transport your baby from the car to your home without having to wake him up. (Think working with dynamite requires a lot of manual dexterity? Try removing a sleeping baby from a toddler or convertible car seat!) Just a quick aside: Don’t expect to carry your baby long distances in his car seat. The handles on most of those contraptions are awkward at best, and the combined weight of baby plus car seat can make for some pretty heavy lifting. So if you’re leaning toward an infant car seat because you think it’ll make it easier to run a day of errands, think again: you’ll probably end up transferring your baby into her stroller anyway in order to save some wear and tear on your arms.

Excerpted from The Mother of All Baby Books: An All-Canadian Guide to Your Baby’s First Year by Ann Douglas. Published by Macmillan Canada, Toronto, 2001.

photographed in Brooklyn, New York on April 9, 2011

“Come on, Diogenes, you’re just in time. We’ve discovered some good beer, good cold beer, down at the German Club. Counting the consul, there’s only two Dutchmen left in the town, but trust them to have their beer. Don’t waste time in astonishment. Come right along.”

In his mortal weakness Bull snatched at the straw. He could drink a barrel of the thin Mexican stuff without knowing it — at least he felt he could! But while, for an hour thereafter, they sat in a cool patio talking and sipping, the despised brew was still potent enough to loosen the mad rustler spirit that hearkened only to the voice of desire.

When the correspondents left to file their dispatches, he remained.

“I’m waiting for Benson,” he told them. “If you see him, tell him I’m here.”

While they walked down the patio and out through the bar into the street, he sat nervously making rings with his beer-glass. Then, trembling with eagerness, he called the waiter.

“This stuff hasn’t a kick in it. Bring me a bottle of whisky!”

Excerpted from Over the Border by Herman Whitaker. Published by Harper & Brothers, New York, 1917.

photographed in London, England on October 3, 2009

Public space, and particularly the street, has always provided one of the main areas for youth leisure. Public space provokes one of the few sites in which young people can ‘hang out’ relatively free of direct adult supervision. Yet it is on the streets that troubling aspects of their behaviour are at their most visible and where crucial elements of the relationship between young people and the police are forged. As Corrigan’s (1976, 1979) conversations with the ‘boys’ from Sunderland revealed, alternatives sites for leisure are rejected because they ‘are not open to the boys as real choices’. The cinema, disco, dance hall and clubs were frequently too expensive. Home was constrained by parents. Youth clubs were bypassed because of the need for compliance with their rules and regulations. As Loader (1996, p. 50) put it, ‘the routine use of public space is not altogether a meaningful choice. Rather it is one consequence of an age-based exclusion from both autonomous private spaces and cultural resources of various kinds.’ …

‘Doing nothing’ though may be interpreted by external viewers as ‘loitering with intent’. It is an apparent lack of productive activity that inspires a hostile reaction. The boys’ experience of leisure was likely to attract the attention of the police at some time. This was how they got into trouble.

Excerpted from Youth and Crime by John Muncie. Published by SAGE Publications Ltd., London, 2004.

photographed in Cancun, Mexico on August 15, 2006

Even before the sun has begun to heat the pale stones of the Temple of Kukulkan pyramid and the adjacent Great Ball Court, the daily invasion of the Chichen Itza, the archeological jewel in the heart of Mexico’s Yucatá* peninsula that – 1,000 years ago – was one of the largest city-states of the Mayan world, has begun.

They traipse in not via the visitors’ entrance but via litter-strewn paths through the surrounding woods. By the time the actual tourists arrive, either from their rooms in the few nearby hotels or on day-trip buses from the beaches of Cancun two hours away, this first human onslaught will be complete. They are the hundreds of vendors who every day erect their stalls all across the site, hoping to scrape a living selling so-called handicrafts which, in fact, are mostly kitsch souvenirs made in China.

Excerpted from ‘Mexican Standoff: The Battle of Chichen Itza’ by David Usborne. Appearing in The Independent, November 7, 2007.