JAY ST BROOKLYN

In the winter of 2012, I lived in my studio as blizzards slowed time and erased edges. I photographed a few blocks around Jay Street, returning to the Manhattan Bridge and moving across rooftops. DUMBO was rougher then, quieter, still holding. Water tanks marked the skyline, silent and weathered, absorbing years of rain, sun, and street noise while familiar faces disappeared. As snow settled, raw edges and imperfect beauty receded, and the lives embedded in brick and stone gave way to transformation. Today, DUMBO reads differently, its former identity buried beneath the surface.