Keely got us out the door by 4:30 am, so it was fully dark with no dawn in sight as we headed into the gloom. Today was her day to lead, so we headed southwards to cross 6th Ave. as usual, and in fact did a bog standard loop: backways to 3rd, up to Monroe, down to 8th, over to Duval St., then around Publix and back north through the Golden Corral parking lot to home.
Along the way, there were three utilities trucks at the corner of Duval and 6th, working on two poles. Standard upkeep or emergency services, I don’t know, but there they were next to the old Bamboo House Restaurant location with lights and loud engines running. The poles were the old wood trunk style, worn and splintered in places — high winds will do that to ya’ — and, as always, ugly.
I’ve always been fascinated by the ugliness of the urban(ish) landscape, if you can’t tell from my photography: rusted connections, overgrown byways, peeling paint and water stains all tell a story of neglect and oversight and (sometimes) trauma that is so much deeper than what our brain skims over when we look around.
Street lights are ugly, but why? Can’t they be pretty? I took this morning’s picture in the median of 7th Avenue just west of Monroe, where some gas lamps have been installed for, I suppose, ambiance. They are pretty pointless for lighting, in fact the light for this photo is from a massive streetlight nearby (hence the dire yellowish tint), despite the fact that the gas lamp is right there.
I think in western culture, particularly as actualized in America, the rush for efficiency has destroyed our ability to combine utility with grace. Street lights are ugly because in the history of electronic street lamp development, the need to make very many very quickly in order to light up the dark, with little regard for the effect of they, themselves, would look established the bar for design.
It’s just a street light, I know, but I think we disconnect ourselves from the greater concerns of aesthetics at our peril.