E ON s SEQUENCE ON

I’ve been walking around the city, camera tucked under my jacket. The trash, the daily toil, the heavy infrastructure draped over the East River - all of it buoys the city’s morale just above water level, collective mouth gasping for the New York hidden in yesteryear, the promise of postpandemic normalcy within a fingertip’s reach. Dust in the air. My pictures frame and thematize this voyeurism, Being Monty Rush after John Malkovich - an invitation to slip into my boots.

The grain of 35-millimeter film, shared between picture and eye, is easy to take comfort in. A leaning trust falls into the physical mechanisms of film, letting it reflect back to me how I already see the world - that buffering of definition, crisp lines fuzzed-out beyond their margins.

Shaken up, jittering - a distance only that of a glass barrier. Snowglobe, New York.

“25 FEET Off Higgins” is a truly student organized zine publication that aims to showcase student work on an accessible and personal scale. We are unofficial, unpolished, nonbureaucratic, and off Higgins. The book’s title acknowledges that Higgins is where we emerged and where we were originally from. However, we must stay away from its jurisdiction. 25 feet from Higgins is where students are allowed to smoke. “25 FEET Off Higgins” is where students are allowed to express themselves freely while having proximity to their base. It is a discussion from beyond Higgins; to be brought back into Higgins.