Rivers, Streets, and Passing Faces
A city is not one thing. It breathes in silence and shouts in neon. It hides in doorways and glows across rivers. These frames are fragments of those in-between spaces, stitched into one passing day.
A city is not one thing. It breathes in silence and shouts in neon. It hides in doorways and glows across rivers. These frames are fragments of those in-between spaces, stitched into one passing day.