A writer friend of mine once told me that his creative process required him to be alone for extended periods, but that he was actually quite social.  For me, it’s been the opposite; I came upon photography while searching for something meaningful to fill my inexplicable yet apparently congenital sense of separateness.  

When I look at this photograph, I remember feeling primed for adventure, excited at having just arrived in a new town where I didn’t know a soul.  I felt a sense of purpose, rejoiced in the focus my aloneness allowed, and turned my eye toward the movements of people on the street and the decaying grandeur around me.  I was there and I was alone for a reason: to take photographs like the one shown here.