The city that never sleeps, slept.
New York City. The one, the only. The dichotomy that exists here is subtle but evident. It would be hard to ignore the obvious. The constant stream of advertisement flowing through every street. The movement of people, cars, lights and sounds. The tall buildings and the familiar sights from every movie, ever written. Its loud and liberating. I could be anything I want to be in this environment, and frankly no one would notice.
But you, New York, you have a side to you that is rarely noted. The quiet you. The you I found most intriguing. In the most stimulating environment, I found solitude. I could not resist photographing one of the simplest, yet iconic features of New York; the park benches. Every bench has a story, an inscription written to humanize these simple cast iron structures. After grazing around Central Park reading as many inscriptions as possible, I noticed a theme. They were about a basic human need, love. Even in the chaotic, ever moving, ever changing New York City, there it was, love. No advertisement needed, no large jumbotron, no lights, no noise. Just a simple, empty park bench. New York, it was my pleasure.