This is the city I visited every for the new year as a kid, the place my great grandparents lived, where my whole family would gather. It’s a simple place, quiet and a little secretive, the kind of town that doesn’t reveal itself all at once. These photographs are an attempt to hold onto that feeling: weathered walls, old cars parked on empty streets, doorways worn soft by time. Nothing here is dramatic, but there’s something in it I keep coming back to, the same way I kept coming back to the city itself.
