Although I am an infrequent visitor to New York City, I love it there. Perhaps because it is so different in every way from the quiet, rural landscape in which I live. When I am there, I stay just a block away from the F train, Seventh Avenue stop in Brooklyn. The train takes me into Manhattan, my most frequent destination, or to connect with the seemingly endless network of the MTA trains. I can go anywhere for a couple of dollars.

Descending the gloomy stair cases, on the platforms and in the cars are so many people - each one intent upon his or her own private affairs and isolated from the crowd by a few feet or perhaps by no space at all as they jam themselves into the overcrowded cars. They are busy. They are tired. Some of them are talking. Most of them are completely self contained, sleeping, reading, checking their phones or just looking around, as I do.

The spaces themselves fascinate me as well. There is a lyrical geometry in the vertical supporting columns and the gleaming tracks emerging from the black tunnels, cutting a path through the brilliantly lit stations and disappearing again on the other side.  Sometimes the train comes above ground and briefly soars above the city. The light there dazzles for a moment before it disappears as the train plunges back under ground. The people, the noise, the spaces - these are what keep drawing me back to this subject matter. I will be going there again soon. I will take more photos of the spaces and of the people, then come back to rearrange them all to fit into my own image of the world.