Brooklyn Walks with my Lecia: Creative Rituals That Keep Me Grounded

There’s something comforting about walking the same streets over and over. Even in repetition, Brooklyn never looks the same twice. One morning it’s long shadows and storefront reflections. The next, it’s sidewalk chalk or a hand-drawn sign taped to a lamp post with handwriting so good it makes me stop in my tracks.

Sometimes I capture the moment. Sometimes I don’t, especially when the rush of the day starts creeping in. But the camera helps me slow down. I’ll find myself paused on a street corner, waiting for a fire truck to back into the station, or watching a group of skaters catch their breath before another go at the ledge.

Most of the time, there’s no plan. I just walk and wait for my eye to land on something I haven’t seen before.

It’s like that Death Cab for Cutie lyric: “And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born, then it’s time to go.” Only for me, it’s a reminder to look like a tourist, to stay curious, even in familiar places.

Over time, I’ve stopped seeing these walks as breaks from work. They are the work. They reset my attention. They remind me that good design begins with noticing, slowing down, staying open, and letting the city reveal something new.