Young Artists

I am very fortunate to be friends with many artistic fellows, especially my two close buddies Yudi Lewis and Yossi Belkin.

Yudi the brownish reddish head, is a phenomenal poet and great and deep observer of life. I posted some of his poetry for you to experience your self.

Yossi, I know many people confuse us. We look alike. We have gotten it numerous times. He is a unbelievable graphic designer. Click the here to view his amazing work.

These are shot with a film camera, Minolta SLR with a 50mm 1.7 on Fujicolor 400 roll.










Homage to My Soul, By Yudi Lewis

The silence is more engulfing then the noise of your discontent
More frightening then the dogs barking at my heel
The gap increases
But the feeling grows
At times it tumbles out of my shaking hands and beyond my control
Your hold is strong and deep
Stalking the very shadows of my troubled sleep
My eyes are not Claptons guitar...They cannot weep
Once again I am left confounded
Surrounded by insecurities long gone and buried
They swoosh by fast echoing their sentiments of the past
When we like ordinary people donned our public masks
When we were chaste
And now the time…the time…
It wastes…

Le Poisson Rouge, By Yudi Lewis

Its hard to write a poem
though its all i want to do sometimes
just sit and write
write all day
write through stormy, cloudy, chilly,
warm, and snowy
fast and slow
short and long
summer winter days.

Sometimes I try to capture a dude on the train
sometimes I try to word a couple frolicking in the park
I look for the simple ironies in day to day life
I look at the stereotypes and try to dissect them
as if they were a frog in bio class..

Most people, I have little doubt see this as a fruitless task..
I mean who hasn't tried to capture something as obvious as that..

I want to personalize the world
I want to..
I want to "Carpe diem"

I want to step outside, and inhale the rich Brooklyn air
A mixture of cold pavement
wet leaves
A unidentifiable home cooked meal..
breath it in to the core of my sometimes broken self..

I want to self medicate off the city that never sleeps.
I once asked a a shoeless philosopher on the corner of Bleecker Street
between Sullivan St & Thompson St,
I asked this man in his large tattered jacket
a felt hat at his feet
what is your secret?
by what rules do you live your life?

He looked at me with what i could swore was a twinkle in his eye
flashed a toothless grin
as if mocking the preppy white kid asking his advice
the ultimate full circle, no doubt a reason to laugh ..

Then he spoke and said;
my advice?!
my advice to you;
never give up.
never stop fighting.
never ever give up.
you have a dream?
you go out there and fight for it.

It was an answer i expected
the privileged snob that I am
I robbed him even of that.