Post college minds are by nature an anxious lot. Little is certain, except the hard fact that you are now a "college graduate" and you must figure out a way to survive. Time is abstract, not divided into chunks like semesters and classes. You are never quite sure if where you are at any given moment is the right place to be, mentally and physically. You'd like it all to stop for a minute, but are eternally thrust forward by the less than abstract concepts of paying rent, feeding yourself, keeping the phone connected. Multiply all of the above by four (at least), and you have the essence of Attorney Street circa 1995.

Captured on the eve of an episode of "roommate musical chairs", these photos depict a moment of major aesthetic and hierarchical changes. Spatially we eternally existed in a high turnover state as people came and went for an endless list of reasons. Aesthetically there was little homogeneity, the decor being a conglomeration of our own things, street findings, and abandoned objects left from countless ex-roommates . Psychologically, the space was being turned over to sophomore members of the apartment, who may have had little responsibility of this magnitude in the past. I wanted to photographically describe what it was like to exist in our space at that specific moment, to infuse a meaning to our situation before it morphed yet again quite haphazardly into an entirely new state.

In 2005 I developed a proposal for the Tenement Museum's Digital Artist in Residency Program, which made it to the semi-finals. The project chronicled physical changes to the space over the last 15 years, and all of the 42 people which had lived on Attorney Street for at least a month during that time period. It not only portrayed their time living there, it also traced what they had done since, where they had gone, and how this apartment played a part in their life. To read the PDF, cut and paste this into your browser: http://www.radonprojects.org/proposal.pdf