The sun never showed up. Maybe that’s exactly why these photographs exist.

July 13, 2026

Two days ago, I went to Manhattan hoping to photograph Manhattanhenge. Thousands of people gathered on 42nd Street, waiting for the sun to sink perfectly between the buildings. Police shut down traffic, officers shouted through loudspeakers, everyone kept looking west…

The clouds won.

Most people went home disappointed.

I stayed.

If I was already in Manhattan, why waste the walk? So I lowered my camera from the skyline to the sidewalks and simply followed whatever caught my eye.

People often ask me, “Do you ask strangers for permission?”

The honest answer is: I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

When I’m on the street, I’m not making thirty photographs. I’m making thousands. I don’t know which thirty will survive until I’m back home, hours later, editing, rejecting, rethinking, and slowly discovering the story I didn’t even know I was telling.

What you see here isn’t a random collection of street photographs.

It’s a map of how I see the world.

If I stop for a couple embracing in a subway station instead of another skyscraper… that says something about me.

If I notice a smiling dog hiding between someone’s legs… that says something too.

If a strange expression, an awkward gesture, or a fleeting moment makes me press the shutter… you’re looking at my sense of humor, my curiosity, my obsessions, and the way I understand people.

These photographs are less about New York than they are about the person holding the camera.

I’ve been photographing for more than 25 years, but every time I walk the streets, it still feels like hunting—not for trophies, but for moments that will never happen again. It’s physically exhausting and mentally demanding. That’s one reason I don’t do it every day. Maybe three or four walks a month.

So when I do go out, I photograph as if it might be my last walk with a camera.

Thank you for seeing New York through my eyes.

And if one day you need someone to photograph your wedding, your family, your love story—or simply your life—I hope you’ll remember the photographer who went out to capture the sunset… and came home with people instead.