I love New York City. I’ve lived here all my life, except for a few off-site try-outs in my 20s, and I’m particularly drawn to the things that go unnoticed by the crowd passing by.
Lately I’ve been intrigued by the abandoned bicycles I see around town; the detritus of a world so rich it can discard (once treasured?) objects that must have cost hundreds of dollars. I imagine what these forgotten and forsaken creatures must feel, tethered to poles and signs, growing smaller and less themselves as they’re scavenged and trashed until they disappear forever.
So I'm beginning a series of portraits of them, this being the first. When was it left there and why? Did its owner just forget about it, or did he come back and see his bicycle companion already picked over by thieves, and leave it there to rust away alone?