Albany, New York

Apparently Albany has several farmer's markets. Of course, I should have figured that out when I googled it and came up with directions to multiple locations. But did I think this out at the time? Oh, no, I just picked a set of directions at random, and followed them, yesterday, Saturday, to the exact location of a farmer's market that takes place every Thursday all summer long. Neat. I never did find the one that was taking place on Saturday, but I did wander around Albany a bit, so I thought I'd share.

Of course Albany, like most cities, is full of juxtapositions like these:

Sometimes I find it charming.

Old architecture and new stand very close together, creating some odd aesthetics, and a sense of time. But to me, Albany seemed even stranger than what I'm used to along these lines. Maybe it's because I'm from Milwaukee, and things aren't quite as old. It's true that back home, we pretty much missed out on the Gothic style altogether. But I've been to other cities: St. Louis, Indianapolis, New York, Boston, and Paris, to work my way east, and there's something weird about Albany. I kept trying to figure it out as I walked around.

I saw this building, and for whatever reason, was very attracted to it. So I turned off the main street. If there had been few people on the main street, there were even down this way. Though I passed a car that was on with the radio blaring, I didn't see a soul until I had turned the corner two more times.

But I did see this Institute for Humanist Studies, and wondered what they do there; isn't Humanism a little dated?

Across the street was this empty parking lot, next to this building in rather a poor state of repair:

For all that these things are all based on European models, I think they come off American in their execution. But I don't really know anything about it.

This street actually looked that white in the sunlight.

There was a whole row of doors with steps like this, fenced and hedged in by shrubbery. Only every three doors or so on this block was operable, with an accessible staircase. It looked strange.

Then, just a couple of blocks away from the Capitol building, I found this ghosttown. There was a stairway down to it, but it was so eerie I didn't make it all the way down the steps.

I walked past an Epsicopal church whose signboard said they had "Holy Eucharist" daily at 12:05. It was two minutes to twelve.

So I walked up along by the side door, and listened to the organ music a while. This was the view I had through the open door. That little row of lights was electrical, and it somehow seemed very appropriate. Maybe it was just the quality of the light, but that row of lights in the dark church seemed as good as candles, from here anyway. I would have gone in, but I was wearing a low-cut, strappy tank top; I was hardly dressed to enter any kind of church.

This was one of several side doors of another, bigger Episcopal church that I passed on my way back.
I was fascinated by that little turquoise dome that you can see in the background. I didn't get around to finding the building to get a better look at. On my way back, I was still very fond of this building on the right.