On my mind.

I've been thinking about public life and private life quite a bit lately. It's a natural thought progression on the subway, observing the many lives that intersect with yours for just a few minutes - brushing elbows, making brief eye contact, bumping a gym bag with your shoe. I wonder where they're going and how they ended up here. What drew them to the city for a day, a season, a lifetime. I wonder what they see of my public life; I wonder what they see of me at all.

Such a strange and wonderful place to live, this city. And how funny that we find ourselves so important in the matrix of this space, that anyone should wonder at what we're reading on a subway car between 4th and 23rd streets. Personally, I think it may be one of the most beautiful things in the world that I could sit next to a perfect stranger and find that we love some similar thing. Like we aren't even strangers at all.

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