Description
Color tells you what a city is right now. Black and white tells you what it has always been.
I took this on a quiet, overcast afternoon when the city seemed to be holding its breath. Without the distraction of color, you stop seeing individual buildings and start seeing timelines. You see the bones of the city, the raw texture of its history etched in brick and stone.
Each facade is a different generation standing shoulder-to-shoulder. The ornate, pre-war details in the foreground have seen it all, while the sleeker, ambitious towers rise behind them. It’s a silent conversation between a hundred different decades.
When I look at this photo, I think about the windows. I think of the millions of moments, big and small, that have been framed by them. In this light, you can almost feel the echoes of the past—the ghosts of ambition and solitude looking down on the same streets. This isn't just a canyon of buildings; it's an archive. It's proof that the city is a living history, and we're just its most recent chapter.