I have lived in and photographed the East Village since 1983. There really are eight million stories in the Naked City and you will find whatever one you want out there. Over eight million people live here, and I am going to photograph one or two of them at a time, alone with a situation. I want the viewer to feel the intimacy of this one person by that one building, to know there is a history here, to feel the narrative, without even knowing the story. And sometimes the building will tell me the story of the person who isn’t in the photo anymore.

This man is in front of a closed up space on East Sixth Street that used to be the Gladiators Gym. I was a member there in 1985. One of only two women that belonged. Kind of a hardcore lifting joint. Sad to see it closed up. I love the flat black paint, like a blackboard.

Love the Inkstop Tattoo. Love the red paint and tree. Very un-N.Y.C. Tattoos were illegal here until 1997. And although they are now kind of everywhere in the East Village, I think the romance is still there.

Took this photo at rush hour, with hundreds of people rushing in and out of the subway. Had to stand in the middle of the street for a few minutes until the crowd parted on either side of the cop. He was really chill. Kind of in his own world.

This club is one of the last remaining from a long line of insanely fun and crazy places that used to rock the East Village. I always prefer to shoot the Pyramid when it’s closed. I love the gates and the signage. Like it’s recovering from last night, still.

This is a pretty typical visual here in the E.V. I was waiting for the light to change and off he went directly into the rainy traffic. N.Y.C. is always more beautiful when it’s raining.

Christmas Eve on East Fifth Street. No snow, just a few people in the bars, and this woman reading her paper having some noodles. Image was a little lonely but not sad. Beautiful light coming from the shop.

I’ve been shooting out my window at least once a week since 2000. The same view but never the same.