My new facebook page is finally up and running. Like it and I’ll love you forever.
Ben Orlansky
These are my eyes. This is my city. Welcome to New York.
Some of my photos lie. Or do they? I capture microseconds of humanity. Look at that old man laughing. It warms your heart and puts a smile on your face. Well, actually, he was just picking his teeth, but the results and effects of those little micromoments remain the same. I may lie through my photos, but those lies have effected me greatly, and I hope they do the same for you.
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Sprinkling pixie dust.
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At Flushing Meadows Park.
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A Hassidic boy holds on to his father’s yarmulka so it doesn’t fall off while he rows.
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Seen on the subway.
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Subway Portrait #4.
I told you I don’t want you, yet you follow me everywhere. Leave me, love.
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And right before she married him, she yanked his ears.
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Near Central Park.
With a roar that shook the heavens, the silent man screamed.
It comes in floods. Somehow, though, it doesn’t help the thirst.
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I followed him for three blocks just so I could show you his face.
She wants to write. God, she wants to write so bad. But the ink bubbles in her throat and leaks from her pores and swirls down the drain in little black puddles. She tries. Oh god, she tries. But the pen twists and grins in her sweaty grip until all that remains are smudges and streaks and tears and fears, and she steps back and stares at this thing she just made. It has not a single word, but bears her heartbeat just the same.
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The gentleman and his cigar.
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Union Square.
