Along the Hudson River while riding a train, I watched a daunting industrial building constructed in the early 1900's emerge from the horizon. It seemed to grow even when the train stopped right beside it to offer a closer glimpse of the vibrant graffiti and metal beams that teased through shattered windows. I strained my neck in an attempt to eye the roof and began peering around for possible entrances. It was the closest I had come to love at first sight.
That was the start of a fixation that took six years to actualize as a an urban exploration photography opportunity. When I finally entered the building, it had become a metaphor for how I was living my life. The thought of going alone was so unfathomable I had not seriously made that consideration. And yet, I took a leap of faith - a sort of bitter shock therapy - and remembered how courageous I've always been.