I celebrated my one-year anniversary of living in New York City on September First. I can look back on this last year and without hesitation know it has been the hardest one of my life, for reasons geographical, relational, and tragical. It was the year that proved I could be a survivor, which is a test I’m not happy I had to take, but happy that I passed. I take a lot of pictures, especially when I travel, and since living over here has felt more like an extended trip than home (I’m not sure it will ever feel like home here, but that’s okay with me), I’ve taken many pictures over the last year. Here is my first year in NYC, in a few photos.
I wish there was a way to make people understand how you can equally love and hate a city, how every time you think you have it figured out, it pushes you back down. Realizing a dream is a funny thing. When it becomes a reality, it collects all the dust of reality–the heartbreak and disappointments and triumphs you never expected. It gets scratched and chipped and re-molded until you are forced to realize that dreams are meant to be malleable. New York and my dream of it have evolved so much for me in this last year. I think I have too.