[territory of passage]

There was a city where people passed one another without ever stopping: they shared the same sidewalk, the same subway entrance, the same noises, and the same walls covered in graffiti.

Each face appeared for only an instant, like an interrupted sentence. Anyone watching that street corner for hours would believe they were seeing the same city; anyone returning days later would discover that none of the people were the same. The city existed precisely in that movement: an endless succession of encounters that never actually took place.

The invisible city lies not in the architecture or the graffiti, but in the fleeting flow of possible connections.
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(inspiration: Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities)
photos: polyptych featuring 8 street photos, NYC, 2017