This post goes out to everyone in New York who refuses to travel above 14th Street (except when grabbing coffee at the ACE or dinner at the Nomad, because that doesn’t count, obviously). No, to see New York, you gotta get out of your four-block bad habit, take a train all the way up the length of Manhattan and then keep going for another twenty minutes. Because that’s where it starts to feel real again. It’s not a shopping mall with sidewalks; it’s a boxing gym that smells like sweat and Tiger Balm, where you can buy a $7 plate of chicken and rice and watch a bunch of guys kicking the hell out of each other while the sound of traditional Muay Thai music wails in the background, a perpetual moan akin to slowly skinning a cat. For those of you who still aren’t biting, photographer Rogan Holmes made the trek so you didn’t have to.
Photos courtesy of Rogan Holmes.