The Bronx, New York, 1967

I go out walking wherever I am, looking, and laughing, and taking it all in with a sense of wonder! What an endless supply of things there are to see! The French have a word for people like me: “Flaneur.” Someone who enjoys the chance encounters of life on the streets. I’ve found that I can stop almost anywhere, and if I watch carefully, something of interest will emerge from the chaos in front of me—but only if I give it all my attention. Only then might the humble everyday gesture turn into the sublime before my eyes.

I like doing this—going out into the streets—prepared with a camera which quickly, like the flicker of an eyelash, the shutter effortlessly interrupts time, stops it, and holds it forever. It transplants what I see onto film, and later in our minds, to grow there if they can. Walking on the boulevards and avenues and main streets of the world has given shape to my life.