“My back hurts,” says the old man as he lowers his body into the booth made of torn maroon plastic. “Mine too,” says a woman I assume is his long-term wife. “You think this is a good diner?” she asks.

Walking into Andie Carver’s studio day or night creates a breath of peace. A moment of respite so

In the early spring while the resident Madison Square Park trees began to grow leaves, I visited Hugh Hayden’s desolate Brier Patch.

I didn’t have set plans for the day. I didn't have set plans for any of the rest of that sweatily stuck-together month other than cleaning out my apartment.

I’m guided to the door of Séan’s studio late one warm New York summer evening by two moths. One was already inside when we arrived, perhaps on guard and waiting for us to trade places.