After a heavy storm in the summer of 2012, the power was out across my neighborhood and major parts of the northeast. Most of my neighbors vacated the area in hopes of getting in contact with loved ones elsewhere. I was temporarily cut off from the internet which connects us all. Unable to interact with others corporally or digitally, I sought out to document the absence of people. Camera in hand, I roamed on foot to capture the stillness found in the brief moments after a storm.
The street lights and business lights that would kick on and off at random intervals alluded to civilized society, as did the pathways and stairs clearly designed for human footing. Yet the humming of electric lights and the roaring of car engines subtly never registered in my ears. The only thing that I was able to understand I was missing, was the light of familiarity and other people. In lieu of people, I imagined them to be in the dark areas of the post-industrial landscape or just past the edge of my peripheral vision. Perhaps this is what all of us did in the infancy of our species.