Yesterday we went to a lecture at the offices of Digital Railroad, an online network for photographers that hooks them up with clients by cataloguing their work etc. Connie Evans, a painter, photographer, and art administrator, spoke to us about her work helping artists find resources and residencies and her journey through her own art. It was encouraging in many ways. Her work is centered around the concept of following the parts of images that interest her most—dissecting the textures and moods of place and time, finding a desert of peace inside herself.

Warm. Blue. The Atlantic Ocean at last. It was so quiet. The entire neighborhood on pause. Empty carnival rides, closed up refreshment stands. Soft wind blew paper and sand gently across the Boardwalk. Old men and women strolled comfortably along—so unlike the streets of Manhattan. So quiet. I followed Jason to walk away from the rest of the class. He and I, in the quiet, captured little moments in the sand, in the pier, in the sky. For the first time here I breathed deep the scent of salt and felt at home.

My trip to New York is almost complete and it feels great to be able to conclude that I have accomplished the things I came to do. As an aspiring artist it was important for me to experience the art scene in New York as well as the reality of what it would be like to work and live in this environment. It was not only a class for me but somewhat of a personal challenge to really discover if I could do this, and if I could make it here. I had never been to the city and my main expectation was this idea of polarization.

When you think of New York City you think of an environment that is constantly in motion and never able to stop. This is true. This city never sleeps. It is always in fast-forward, and as you pass people on the street you find that they are so pressed for time, to get from destination to destination, that they are unable to smile or say "hello". This was hard for me to understand the first week of this trip, since at the Lutedome it's almost considered unkind to say "hello" to some one passing you on the walkway.