In the last year, I have spent a lot of time in New Haven - in particular, its industrial zones. As the sun rises, the metal buildings screech to life. Smoke oozes

from every unnatural surface. Its a signal that the workday has begun. And in the afternoon light, you can watch as hundreds of 18 wheeled trucks pass

through these zones. Jake braking to a full stop and with a loud crash, they release their air brake. And as the sunset collapses below the horizon, the

land goes completely quiet with only the faint buzzing of industrial fans ringing through the strip. Nightfall is upon us and only the creeps come out at night.

Amongst this landscape of broken roads are a group of people that most will try to ignore in the daylight. The cover of darkness is a familiar cloak that eases

the burden of being a burden. There is no need to be quiet, there is no requirement to be concealed.

Fireworks spark under the dark highway overpass, revealing the outline of unknown shadowy figures. They appear like bright ghosts - just a glimpse and

then they disappear. In these scenarios, it's best to stay away but in the moment, I found it hard to avoid. The deep voices begin to grow louder as I

approached. I walked with my tripod resting on my shoulder but the clang of metal legs gave away my location.

"Who's that?" one person said softly.

Before I could respond, another voice yelled out "Fuck off!"

In a surprised and anxious response, I shouted back "Hey, I'm a photographer. Can I take a picture of you guys?".

Then a long pause. It seemed to go on for far too long. I stopped in my tracks, careful to continue my approach. I can almost count the silhouettes now.

"Nah, man. Fuck outta here."

I was outnumbered and my request was unwanted.

I have been in a few situations similar to this one. In my time photographing the town of Holyoke, Massachusetts. I had a knife pulled on me, I had a

teenage boy pull out a gun from his waistband, and I saw a man get shot. On those occasions, there were clear warning signs - all of which I ignored. All of

them gave me trepidation to turn back and instead of listening to my gut, I pushed through with the thought 'if I can just get a photograph of this..'

As I have gotten older, I find that I tend to take smaller risks and avoid the big ones at all costs. They say, the older you get, the wiser you become. I don't

think that's true.

I stood in the street, just outside of the underpass that was hidden in darkness and decided to make a photograph. I didn't bother to find focus - I knew my

exposure times based on my previous images. So without hesitation, I hit the shutter.

The entire ride home was filled with regret and jubilation. That feeling of getting away with something but you don't quite know what. I rode that roller coaster

of emotion into the next morning where I quickly filled my bathtub with warm water and color negative chemistry. After the Developer, Bleach and Fixer comes

a moment that almost always feels like a magic trick. The reveal!

To my surprise, every image was perfectly exposed.. except one. In my haste, I forgot to set my aperture - it sat on f22. The image was nothing more than a

a muddy mess of shadows with almost no definable details.

Magicians call this final act 'The Prestige'.

For my next trick, I will make this photograph disappear.