The Geometry of Crossing
I often find myself standing on the edge of a bridge just as the light begins to fail, watching the commuters move like a slow, rhythmic tide. There is a particular comfort in the way a city connects its disparate parts—the old stone of a…
The Weight of the Day
I often find myself watching the men who keep the city’s pulse beating—the ones who haul crates at the market stalls or navigate the heavy carts through the narrow arteries of the morning rush. There is a specific rhythm to their movement,…
(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Art of Standing Still
I missed my bus this morning because I stopped to watch a man trying to untangle his headphones on the sidewalk. Everyone else was power-walking, heads down, shoulders hunched against the wind, moving like they were being pulled by an invisible…