The choreography of urban space runs under every mundane aspect of the city.  Every day an influx, an outflow, a cyclical tide of people and energy.  These tides leave behind residue, some of it perceivable, some of it not.  There is litter, smog, noise.  But more importantly there are dreams and moments that cling to the architecture, define the cityscape on some unconscious level, hum just outside the range of our hearing and sight.

The dynamic created by the tension between the concrete and the insubstantial defines our urban space.  The id of the alley and the superego of the traffic law: each is necessary to control and define the psychological and physical sprawl of the city.

Between cities, the land is suffused with intent: the intent of migration, of movement, a destination.  The physical landscape becomes an obstacle, a means to an end, rather than a repository of nature.  We divide and sub-divide the land on maps, with roads and signposts, pointing us to our target, filling it with coffee cups, fast food, neon lights.  Yet not so long ago, the land was the keeper of the dreams that now flutter unseen from our city lamp-posts.  What residue can we find there now, on the superhighway, hanging in the micro-vortices of air currents?