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New York  City is in my top three destinations  as it is gritty , and also poignant at the same time.  There is a bass  rhythm that reverberates through  the subway and  ricochets   off the skyscrapers , pulsing through  sidewalks, energising pedestrians.  As a photographer,   it is a dream to be a part of  an eco-system that is  reliant on human traffic  , confidently owning  the pavement   traversing  familiar patterns. Observing residents piece together routes utilising efficient transport nodes   and  allowing themselves to   discover   retreats  in unlikely places  is  compelling . Blending in with the tide of residents performing daily migrations  , the perfect  conditions for street photographers are  born.  Throughout my trip, I spy  hundreds of enthusiasts pausing to  capture daily life rituals before  rejoining the  urban surge  .


 When this saturation inevitably  starts to make you feel    overexposed ,   the  ultimate oasis is ofcourse Central Park .  The park itself  functions as a giant harp . The spirit of John Lennon  presides  over all and the  branches of well established  trees  curl to form fingers , plucking  the heartstrings of  the souls beneath. Lawns, tracks, lakes and ponds  create different notes but each celestial  . Dogs abound   respectfully understanding the importance of shared space and  being in the moment. Cyclist meander  and offer  their bells into the melody  while  students laugh, lovers whisper , and wanderers  pontificate.  

With a soothed soul , I  re-emerge ready to sample an array of artistic and  cultural  pursuits . From   mainstream to niche;  mundane to bizarre; low brow to sophisticated; untrained to elite ;  comedic to profound , New York has it all and every conceivable thing in between.  

As it is easy to lose track of time when travelling, I am reminded that it is indeed a Sunday.  I    make my way  in a linear fashion to Harlem and stumble upon a gospel  church with standing room only and people spilling into the forecourt. Curiosity prevails as I gingerly turn the door  handle . I am greeted with "Welcome My Brother "and the sentiment is so genuine that I nestle in as  if attending a familiar celebration.  I see that the congregation of young and old, black and white ,  is literally  dancing  in the aisles  and the upbeat tempo of the singers causes me to join the revelry. The minister sways  also while sharing positive affirmations that are applicable to the current climate.  

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