Irony is not lost on the awkwardness that permeates the urban swamp.
From the affluent enclaves of the beaches to the sprawling destitute of the mainland, there is a dichotomy that overwhelms the last vestiges of sensitivity for modernism in a healthy society.
Above, another seemingly superfluous bank adorns the manicured approach to Bal Harbor Mall.
A corporate mastodon of a building sits vacant, blighted de-tusked for over a decade on the major intersection of 79 street and NE second avenue.
At South Point Park on Miami Beach a monumental candy coated crankshaft towering over the palms is dwarfed by the magnificent expanse of water that surounds us at government cut. In the distance the very privatized residences on Fisher Island stand alone, beacons of luxury and the first welcomers for the next big storm.
As with much of South Florida SoBe is replete with capital improvement projects. There is no place to turn when panning the urbanscape for a view void of orange cones and heavy equipment, yet often there is not a work crew in sight.
On this Memorial Day Miami Beach officials and out of town extra police officers are on heightened alert and ready for action. With so many people (black) visiting here to have a good time and spend money, the focus is of funneling the fun living to maximize citations. One might call this the recurring circus of entertaining entrapment.
To welcome the fools that flock here, the ubiquitous work of embarrassing maestro Britto defines what is 305 in the minds of the transient be they black, brown, white, yellow or green visitors.
But to get to the coveted beach party all must enter through consecrated concrete arches and pay their respects to progress. At a snail's pace the much touted and truly titanic Tunnel to Where? makes it's subaquatic way to completion.
No this is not the next water park, it is a really big cork screw for replacing swamp with cement.
On the site of what was once a pretty cool open helicopter pad, the 305 Children's Museum struggles to make itself noticeable and remain accessible or at least viable behind the crushing weight of new urbanism.
Here is the scene of the crime, the relative location where police killed a naked face-eating fat man just hours after this photo was taken on Memorial Day Weekend.
The much touted new Miami Art Museum aptly renamed the Perez Pavilion promises to be a blabylonian garden of eden for contemporary everything. But it will more likely resemble the pyramidal quagmire facade that is the performing arts center nearby.
There was a time not long ago where bayside living was the desired lifestyle in the swamp.
Aside from the lush and splendid inland charm that was the Moral Gables Merrick sold, settling on the high ground along the shores of Biscayne Bay was most desirous for its proximity to the beaches and safe harbor from storms. Today, not so much as a coconut remains of that charm.
Nearby, a survey of the swampscape shows that some things haven't changed much.
A temple stands firmly rooted on the belief that the faithful will congregate and donate.
A ramshackle abandonment barely standing signals the approach to Wynwood, testament to newer better street art ahead.
Doggonit we Krave a ScoobySnack! another marvelous mural by 305's own Daniel Fila, creator of the sentimental mural commemorating the Women in White of Havana, Cuba. I like his work allot because he likes big butts.
And ass for big things, visit the Diet Gallery in Wynwood for consistant concise contemporary posteriors.
Together with Lester's Diner nearby, Nina Johnson and Daniel Milewsky seem to be the golden couple that is doing everything right. That is to say they are not parroting the predictable.
Wynwood is a great place to get a load of culture. But one need not go far astray to be back in the merengue of befuddlement that is Miami. I am not sure what other kinds of churches there are out there but this one in Little Haiti is very clear about who they daddy is.
No words are necessary.
Nothing rhymes with orange.