Category: Creative Projects (Page 3 of 3)

In the heart of Brooklyn, where cultures collide,

I grew up at the intersection, side by side.

Two neighborhoods, two worlds merging

Stark differences within their similarities.

No zoned school to define my education,

I roamed between these worlds each day.

At the crossroads, I learned

Life’s lessons, broadening my mind 

A kaleidoscope view.

Since the website storage is full, I compiled my pictures on this Google Doc.

“We are living in dystopia, in a world that is dominated by technology and disconnect, alienation, loneliness, and dysfunction.” – Steven Wilson

Empty Sunset Park Roads

Morning roads are empty,
Cars speed by when the traffic isn’t hefty
I only ever looked down these roads when crossing the street,
Peering down these paths holds beauty undiscoverable from one side of the street

The town now seems lonely,
as I go down 8th Ave, an uphill trek filled with birds on rooftops, only
Flying away eventually,
They anticipate the grey clouds arriving, potentially

6th Ave almost doesn’t exist here,
Because the park cuts right through,
But stare down the park road
And you’ll see where the rest of Sunset Park flows

The wet ground sounds the alarm for another empty day
And the puddles reflect the trees, standing tall over where kids would play
As I leave this protected nature, an ice cream truck is absent
Traveling down to 5th Avenue sees no children running rampant

Walking along 5th Avenue, back towards 40th Street
Car lights can be seen all the way, and beyond 30th Street
And turning on 40th Street reveals a hill
Where memories have disappeared, and buildings seemingly ascend uphill

The day grows darker, and there isn’t even activity going on between homes
No barbeques, and no kids playing ball, is there are anyone in any of these homes
At night it’s impossible to tell, the town is falling asleep
The streets are dark and only the moon illuminates our town deep

Turn the corner of my home, “Resurrection Church” can be spotted along the way
Even this place doesn’t seem active on a Sunday
But on this Saturday night, the darkness quiets the neighborhood all around
And just like the day, there weren’t many souls to be found

Perhaps, just for today, the community has taken a break
Or some in the community have moved away for their own sake
Perhaps while people are away for work, the town becomes quieter than a mouse,
But what’s strange is there isn’t a single noise from a single house.

We often overlook the colors we see

Surrounded by so much monochromes

Black, white, gray

Those many consider to be color when in truth are merely a shade

We tend to forget that color is what is more natural

Color is what actually surrounds us

Yet it seems we are afraid

Afraid of color

“A pop of color” is what we call it if there is any to be found

As if it is a rarity

And in an ever modernizing world, color is a rarity

Don’t let it be

Start to admire the small beauty that these ‘rarities’ offer

And let life be colorful

In the winter of New York City they roam,

these strays seeking for warmth, but they find no home.

Their colorful coats, soft yet thin,

In the freezing cold, their fight for survival begins.

Through icy streets, they silently tread

hunger gnawing, their eyes filled with dread

Yet in their eyes, a spark does gleam,

A testament to their strength, a hopeful dream.

In the winter night, their whispers of meow,

Echo through the silence, as they navigate the now.

So, let’s remember the strays in winter’s chill,

Extend a hand, offer them a moment’s goodwill.

For in their struggle, there’s a lesson to find,

The strength of spirit, in the coldest of times.

note: the last three cats are pictures of my own cat and my friends’ cats. It shows a contrast between stray and home cats.

Steven Wang

UNDERBELLY, 2023

“We rarely capture the unsightly and unglamorous, often neglecting the raw, unfiltered realities that exist. A stark contrast to the picturesque scenes, like a beautiful sunset worth looking at fueled by the same allure many have towards Dutch painters. Acknowledging this coexistent duality in the world allows us to embrace a more authentic understanding. This gallery presents a counter narrative on the dismissed hidden aspects of our society. Inviting you to pause, reflect, and appreciate the facets of our world that are often overlooked and a critique of contemporary culture.”

Exhibit 1: Every journey starts somewhere and that somewhere for me is here: home. Come take this journey with me as I head to school from here. This is where I start my day by walking out the front gates and down the steps with the bright morning sun shining in my face.

Exhibit 2: This is where I head into the train station to take the F train to 23rd Street. I either take the bus, which I often do or I walk when the MTA system wants to be annoying and not work properly or show proper bus schedules.

Exhibit 3: There are usually police officers that guard the entry of the subway to make sure that nobody is jumping the turnstiles or trying to evade the MTA fare in any way. They often scare me, making me rethink the idea of jumping the turnstiles, which eventually makes me tap my card to go through.

Exhibit 4: When I exit the train at 23rd Street, I always see the paintings on the walls with dogs wearing human clothes such as rain coats, jackets and other things. I am always intrigued by the artist and their inspiration for making such murals in the subway, especially at 23rd Street.

Exhibit 5: When I exit the train station, from the downtown side, I get a glimpse at the digital board above the subway name displaying movies and other advertisements, that pique my interests once I get a good glimpse of them.

Exhibit 6: As I start my walk to school from the 23rd Street subway, I look to my right to see a towering building in the distance and notice that it is the World Trade Center. Looking at the tower reminds me of what used to be in its position and how the tower came to be the way that it is, due to the tragic events of 9/11.

Exhibit 7: I walk down about half the block and see my job building, Home Depot. I consider this my third home as it is a place that helps me earn some kind of cash and helps me to meet and greet my friendly coworkers as well as getting a chance to meet new people and engage in conversation with them.

Exhibit 8: I am nearing school and see the Flatiron building to my right. It is a massive building and its architecture is outstanding that I notice many people taking pictures as they walk by, whether they are tourists or just casual New Yorkers.

Exhibit 9: The statue marks the entrance of Madison Square park. This statue allows me to recognize how close I am to campus and allows me to get a few minutes to enjoy the park and the extravagancies it has to offer.

Exhibit 10: I make it to my final destination for this journey, Baruch College. This is my home campus and most certainly, my second home. I am able to meet new people, make friends and enjoy life here. I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything else.

The final takeaway of this journey would show the different things I see as I go from home to campus. As I see the different art forms as I go on this journey, I come to the realization that I am not only part of one culture, not just a “Queens head”, but a New Yorker. I’m not just part of one neighborhood. I consider everywhere I go and everything I see to be my neighborhood.

Back when I was growing up,

a Sunday so beautiful would have never gone to waste.

and today, the signs continue to read “Children at Play”

but have the children been misplaced?

The parking lot where we’d bike until the setting sun told us it was getting late

remains eerily empty

without any kids who congregate

Even the school fields where I would beg my parents to let me stay

are completely silent

without any memories being made.

It’s hard to accept that my town will never be the same

with my favorite bench so lonely

and only the changing times to blame.

Walking down from my cozy home,

I wait for my bus by a place where prisoners roam,

to see the sights of a park all alone.

As I go along the trail,

I see an old home with abandoned tales.

Walking down to my favorite mini mall,

I pass by a restaurant where all the kids go,

and I eat in a park where memories never go,

of the ones who’s lives got lost.

Walking down to the airport,

only a few minutes from home,

Where I yearn to see the unknown,

But have to postpone,

to walk back up to my cozy home.