To me, the streets of New York have never been a city, but a living organism in the midst of splitting itself apart. Every day, strange signals seep out from its cracks— a distorted step, a biased beam of light,
a face suddenly slipping out of its own story. These anomalies feel like codes meant only for me, forcing me to stop, forcing me to stare. The way I press the shutter is closer to seizing, twisting the city’s misaligned moments off their tracks
and stuffing them into a composition no one else can decipher. Each frame is another face of New York it refuses to acknowledge, and I am merely calling their names out from the shadows.