Digital Ink'd

  In trendy Greenwich Village, a battle is unfolding over the future of a modest three-story Greek Revival rowhouse at 50 West 13th Street. With its intricate cast-iron portico, this unassuming structure has been more than just a building; it's been a beacon for the avant-garde, a sanctuary for the aspiring, and a home for groundbreaking theater. Yet, in January 2021, when Village Preservation approached the city's Landmarks Preservation Commission, they were met with a disheartening response: the building, they were told, did not possess the architectural grandeur to merit landmark status. The Commission did, however, leave a window open, suggesting that the building's "cultural significance," particularly with the Off-Off Broadway theater movement, required further exploration. The 13th Street Repertory Theatre, housed within this very building, has been a cradle for theatrical innovation for decades. This was the stage where Richard Dreyfuss and Chazz Palminter

  I finally made it to the place I had been dreaming about for years. Ever since I found out the substation by the Harlem River was still standing, I had been trying to visit. Every time I came up from Brooklyn, though, the main gate was locked. It had become a routine—checking in once a year, hoping for a change, only to be disappointed. But today was different. Funny enough, I almost didn’t go out at all. I had been putting up with the noise of kids playing next door, and their summer fun was starting to grate on me. I’d had enough of it. I needed to get out of the house, and this time I was determined to see if the gate would finally be open. When I arrived, I started by photographing the building’s exterior. The gate looked like it might still be an issue, but I wanted to document what I could. While I was snapping shots, a guy pulled up on a motorbike. We got to talking about photography and our shared passion for preserving old, forgotten buildings. He told me he’d seen local kid

Navigating my way to this clandestine location was far from a walk in the park. Each step over the jagged rocks, glistening with a sheen of dewy moss, felt like a gamble. One misstep and the unforgiving coastline would gladly introduce me to its myriad sharp-edged contours. These rocks, slick with remnants of past high tides, held a sense of deja vu for me. A fleeting memory tingled at the back of my mind: I'd treaded this same treacherous path once before, making my way to an abandoned fuel oil depot lurking just beyond the fence. It was an Instagram reel that had first hinted at the existence of this masterpiece, echoing with the whispers of the sea. From a distance, the artwork stands as a beacon, a vibrant testament to the intelligence lurking beneath the waves. On the cusp of a grime-streaked shoreline, amidst the urban sprawl, stands the luminous graffiti by the celebrated urban maestro, Vewer. Bold, block letters spelling out "VEW" are splashed across the canvas in

  These photos were taken in December 2017 before the March 2023 fire damaged the historical building.  In Camden, New Jersey centered around the charred remains of a once boarded-up house on Walnut Street. This isn't just any building; it's where Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., an emblematic figure of the civil rights movement, once lived and learned, shaping his philosophy of peaceful protest. The story of this house, and the efforts to preserve its legacy, reflects a broader narrative of struggle and hope that resonates deeply in the community. Pastor Amir Khan of New Beginnings Behavioral Health has been at the forefront of these efforts. Despite the setback of a devastating arson attack in March 2023, which left the historic site in ruins, Pastor Khan's vision remains undeterred. He envisions a new beginning for this site, proposing to erect a 10,000-square-foot museum that not only commemorates Dr. King's legacy but also serves as a beacon of learning and ins

As you drive along Interstate 95, you might catch a glimpse of the blown-out windows of the former Bridgeport Organ Company. This imposing structure, with its faded billboard, has stood vacant and abandoned for years. Inside, the scene is one of decay and disarray—dangling pipes, snack wrappers, empty alcohol bottles, spray cans, and collapsed floors. Signs of squatter activity, like overturned buckets used as chairs and sleeping bags spread across the wooden floors, were prevalent back in 2014. Despite its current state, the site has a rich history. The Bridgeport Organ Company once produced exquisite organs with ornate wooden cases. These instruments, standing six feet high and four feet wide, were prized pieces of furniture in family parlors before the advent of record players. As musical tastes evolved, so did the factory's production. By the late 19th century, the demand for home organs declined, giving way to new inventions like the graphophone, an early version of the phonog