On January 23rd, 2016 one of the largest blizzards to ever hit the east coast of the United States roared into New York City. Officials declared a state of emergency, issued travel bans, and warned of the unprecedented nature of the storm. As the snowy day turned to a brutally windy blizzard of a night, I donned every last article of winter clothing I owned, packed up my gear, and headed out onto the streets.

Never have I seen New York City, the city that never sleeps, so post-apocalyptically desolate. I was alone amid millions of people hunkering down in their homes. Shortly after midnight, while scouring the rapidly snow-filling streets for photo opportunities and trying to keep my gear clean, I turned onto 47th street from Times Square and saw a lone individual wandering down the road, covered entirely in black, save for a white headphones cable.

I took a single photo as he passed into the light cast from an old street lamp. He continued to walk past me without saying a word, his face completely obscured via a pitch black covering. After stowing my gear and turning around, he had already disappeared into the swirling whirlwind of snowfall.

Limited lifetime run of 100 signed and numbered prints
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