Works, as they say, on so many levels. The blockage is enormous and seems to be actively devouring mid-Manhattan. Steam, if that's what it is, and sunlight have opened an additional front in the assault. This is all to say that this big mess has a life of its own. The signs and faceless traffic light add additional emphasis. But out of this tumult is an eventual cohesiveness that sings of the city and its own strain of madness. Finally, the old joke is invoked "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" "Practice, practice, practice." Which summons up the final impediment, your own willingness to make the effort, even granting that the talent exists. Exciting and boisterous, a fine image.
Personal favorite of the challenge. |