Andrew Kaminski (2014)

Our morning started with a hunt for acetate. It was warm for late December, and as Andrew Kaminski pointed out, the whole of Harlem seemed excited by the winter heat wave. He opted to enjoy the weather with a tank: Keith Haring.

He walks fast, always half a pace ahead, back slightly hunched. “Could you let me know me when I’m slouching? I’m trying to break the habit.” I reassured him I would.

In a neighborhood that’s one-part gentrified, another part New York, Kaminski acknowledges his surroundings with a familiarity one would have with home — an impressive adjustment for a recent transplant from upstate. And the locale seems to share the sentiment: The corner deli, for one, only has affection for the guy.

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