Bronx River
The Bronx River, New York City's only fresh water river, runs parallel to tracts of lush vegetation and old growth forest on its way through the densely populated, urban industrial Bronx and its terminus atthe East River. The incongruity of such a landscape fascinated me, and would compel me to make repeated trips from my home in Northern Virginia to photograph along it's shoreline and surrounding neighborhoods.
As a boy, I routinely played in the wooded city lots and urban parks of my working class community of Yonkers, New York, where I grew up. Yonkers shares a northern border with the Bronx, and in the South West section of town, where I lived, the two resembled each other in many ways. This dense, urban environment, with its aging buildings and storefronts, cramped neighborhoods, and industrial river fronts bordered by train tracks, were places I looked upon not only with familiarity, but with fondness.
As I walked along the River's well worn paths and adjoining neighborhoods, places very familiar yet still alien in the present day sense, my adult self carried memories and experiences from long ago in my
intuitive mind. Never quite knowing what I would find or who I would meet, I found myself both thrilled and apprehensive.
In the questions I asked myself about why I chose to photograph along the river, I considered all of this.
In my fear, hesitation, and self-doubt, I understand and acknowledge that there exists something of my life experience in all of my subject matter, and recognized that when one allows oneself to become vulnerable,
often times, magical things can happen.
