The overpass at 18th and San Bruno is a galaxy for b-boys and concrete surfers, is spiraled like a seashell. There, tags are burned in brick and cracks where skateboards have been, is a bench for weary travelers. Many a drifter comes here to count recyclable cans, to add up a day’s work. Some shoot through the galaxy like a star, running to get from one place to another. Some stand on the bridge and simply admire the matrix of passing cars. Some have thought of throwing themselves head first into a fast lane of speeding trucks. Some have thought of life after death. The b-boys and concrete surfers are gone. Their signatures embalm the framework of a deteriorating structure. How is it to live life while dying?
nice photos victor!keep up the good work.