This article originally appeared in The Curator February 19, 2010.
On an unseasonably warm day in Brooklyn last December, a bike lane on Bedford
Avenue was sandblasted into oblivion, its bright white lanes
It’s a hot day in the middle of August and I’m speeding through suburban
Philadelphia in a borrowed Honda. The windows are down, the sunroof is open, and
the Rolling Stones
On an unseasonably warm day in Brooklyn last December, a bike lane on Bedford
Avenue was sandblasted into oblivion, its bright white lanes buffed down into
near-invisibility. It wasn’t a particularly newsworthy