Lost in Now

In 2012, my commute between jobs was four hours round-trip, six days a week, at all hours of the day. After a few weeks of commuting, a habit of reading, listening to podcasts, playing games, or napping developed. Then I decided to break this pattern most New Yorkers and public transport commuters everywhere followed. Every day four hours of my waking life was wasted. I couldn't continue to let this happen. I wanted to create; I wanted to see life; and I wanted to live. I decided to never leave the house without my camera and to always pay attention to my world.

When New Yorkers move from place to place, they do so unacknowledged and acknowledging. We occupy a tiny space. We claim it our own. These days the majority of people diverts their attention to a cell phone or tablet. Between 11pm and 7am, many people sleep. But every now and then I would encounter people who not only ignored the world and the strangers just outside their little bubble, but in spite of the obvious lack of solitude, these individuals created a microcosm of their own and we and our world seemingly disappeared from their present. When alone, their gaze turned distant and facial expressions softened to reveal a glimpse of truth. When such a moment happened between two people, there seemed to be a whole universe within their shared microcosm. Less pretense. Less guarded. More peaceful. Lost in the moment. I call it being Lost in Now.

This is a selection of the beautiful moments I witnessed.