The places we build are more than just functional spaces; they are alive in their response to the surrounding people, in our personification of them, and in the stories they continue to tell.
Obviously, they physically respond to our neglect or care, but they also reflect the crowds that pass through them. A street has a much different energy when it is filled with passionate protesters, compared to when it stands empty and alone. As with human friendship, cities give back what you put into them.
Visiting a city or even just a new building is like meeting a new person; it can be exciting and terrifying, turning you back home or becoming your new favourite spot. We become so attached to our spaces, that moving out of a good home feels like losing a cherished family member.
Furthermore, places have their own way of speaking directly to us. Wander through your childhood neighbourhood – how does it make you feel? For many of us, it feels like we are transported back in time, whether we want to or not. We feel personally offended when a space has changed and evolved without us. In fact, they will continue to evolve without us, telling our stories for us, outliving us.
Rather than capturing streets as they simply appear, I wanted to illustrate how they felt in the moment I stood there. Including a few things that captured my attention: a seasonal flower, an empowering event, or a particular mood. Some of these places I haven’t visited in many years, and could only be drawn from a memory frozen in time.