During the fall of 2007, I met a man named Al in Washington Square Park. While desperately trying to take care of his homeless brother, Lu, Al struggled to reconcile his feelings toward those who spend more time in the park than living conventional lives. Al and Lu became part of a community called "the asylum" by its core members. This group includes people who have both chosen and been forced to live their lives without roofs, as well as park regulars that have homes. Some days are peaceful and poetic; others are hostile and chaotic. Many are physically and psychologically taxing. But they accept each other, forming unique, family-like bonds based on the shared experiences of living life one day at a time, and their passion for musical expression. They depend on each other, while remaining accountable only to themselves.

Spending time with these individuals has opened my mind to new ways of perceiving our own lives and choices, and those of others. It has allowed me to consider the root of who we are as human beings living in a society crafted by other human beings, our expectations and preconditions, and the ways in which our lives intersect. This body of work is not intended as advocacy. It is a brief microcosmic view into one version of a reality that is ubiquitous, yet generally unseen in depth. My hope is that I have represented the lives of this community in a way similar to how they might represent themselves.