Leaving behind the rolling hills and rugged coast of New England, I moved to the depths of New York City. For three months, I adjusted to my new surroundings. Slowly, and with repetition, I found my footing in a new place that I am calling home for the foreseeable future.

Viewed from the window of the backseat of cabs and late night wonderings, street corners and landmarks etched themselves into my subconscious knowledge of the city. As my comfort with my surroundings increased, I started taking my camera with me.

On walks to and from work, evening outings and lazy Saturday afternoons I snap photos with the same attitude and intentions as I did in Maine. In the absence of sharing my photos on my blog, I email my photos to my friends and family, impatiently waiting on their responses.

Russ & Daughters.

Ice fishing traps.

New York summers are humid.

My favorite snack.

Loud Horn.

A Maine Coon Cat in the West Village.

Bass and Karen and Sara of the Identical Eye.

I love the buildings and skyline.

Patrick enjoying a beverage.

Unlike its fancy German counterparts behind it, this Man's car refuses to be parked like a case of Diet Coke at a Costco.



Excited by the vibrancy of my new environment and surrounded by inspiring people from all walks of life, I am more at home than ever. I miss sunsets uninterrupted by jagged roof tops and the sound of morning doves, but welcome the excitement of a new place. Away from ice shanties, flying shoes, and rural farmers, I search for my voice and perspective in a new city. I am eager, yet in no rush. My photos and writing will look and feel different, but that's what I want. I am growing up.