About

A California transplant in NYC, H has failed to properly document her past six-year stint in the city. The details of her magical first years are lost; Times Square has become a distasteful glare, the Met has become a sort of rainy weekend escape, and Central Park has become a nice idea for a giant treadmill. It was only until the summer of 2015 when H realized the temporariness of her living situation and that the city might soon escape her. The uncertainties of life may well scrape her out of the city's gut and throw her out into the middle of nowhere. Not unlike her magical first years, Times Square strangely felt exciting again, the Met appeared grandiose, and Central Park smelled wonderful. This is H's belated attempt to chronicle the magical details of the city and the cities beyond.