Jill Murray
Lately, I seem to have a habit of always living near train bridges. This one is at Rosemont Blvd., over St-Laurent. The building that’s so completely tagged is the far end of a big lumberyard, because hey, what’s more convenient than living near a lumberyard while we’re at it. Cheap offcuts for all, yay!
I don’t usually see this wall because I’m usually walking or cycling on the opposite sidewalk. (For reasons I won’t get into here, it is necessary to cycle on this stretch of sidewalk. There is no way around it that I have discovered yet.)
In general, one cheesy tag is a sucky thing. Quickly sprayed, with little heart, they tend to be ugly, and bring about all the complaints people have against street art. But this wall illustrates how sometimes, more is more. Because somehow while one tag is bleh, a gazillion tags bring character and light to this otherwise bleak intersection. I’m going to walk on this side of the road more often. I like the different perspective.
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ahhh…the bridge that separates your current house from my old house. i too have a tendency to live near train bridges. they’re pretty cool, though.
I know! Its so symbolic.
i can’t think of anywhere i’ve lived where i couldn’t hear trains nearby during insomniac 3am moments. they are such bizarre monuments, liminal and defining and yet marginal and active space in and of themselves.
Oddly enough, in the lovely quiet suburb where I grew up, I could always hear the trains, but in my last two apartments, which both bordered industrial or zoning-conflicted areas, the bridges are a significant feature of the landscape, and yet the trains are inaudible when I’m indoors.