parked bikes as sculpture.

To me, these are iconic images of New York. And the beginning of a series.
I don't have words yet, but thinking almost entirely in a visual register, these tangential thought/image constellations -
Sculpture.
Ghost Bikes.
Junk/Abandonment.

I don't have the words, but trust Raqs to have them -
"there are no histories of residue, no atlases of abandonment, no memoirs of what a person was but could not be"

So much more to write on.
Diwali, Eid and Inshallah.
Soon, inshallah, if grad school allows.