"...our souls are left in the city of our departure."
That was part of the first sentence I read in an article on Lykke Li in the latest issue of FILTER on the Sunday we left New York City. The moment I saw those words, I looked out the window and I knew, somewhere in that city, was a part of my soul.
My fantasy of moving to NYC didn't come to fruition till recently, as I began to wonder where I would go after I graduate university, but as soon as New York entered my mind I knew I had to move there. I became obsessed. A lot of people thought/still think that I'm crazy for choosing such a massive city and that it would eat me alive the moment I stepped foot in it but who am I kidding, I thrive on craziness.
|Soaking in the crazy.|
Having lived in Toronto my whole life, I tend to always compare cities I visit to my hometown, as I'm sure everyone does. But New York and Toronto definitely related, like step-brothers. There was a weird sense of deja-vu everywhere - from Grand Central to Central Park, every corner reminded me of a similar spot in Toronto. And maybe it was because of that that made me feel so at home.
I had anticipated to be shaking in my boots (or in this case, my glitter oxfords) just a little but nothing. Carmel and I even mastered the subway system! That must mean something (other than the fact that we know how to navigate around really well)!
|Photographer in action (I'm not a photographer)|