We’ve all heard things about Philadelphia and Philadelphians. They’re mean. They throw snowballs at Santa Claus. They’re assholes who got dressed down by Bill Burr when they wouldn’t stop booing comedians at a show. They’re just the embodiment of the nasty, brutish, always-in-a-rush sterotype of the big city, particularly East Coast, denizen.
And you know what? I loved it. Maybe because I embody the Chicago version of those traits, I felt at home in Philly. I felt at home on its roads, where everyone was also in a hurry. I was comfortable with the people, who were mostly curt, direct, and to the point. Unlike rural places, where even the most routine exchanges get weighed down with performative nicety, Philly shows you its true face right away.
So, this post is a love letter to the “city of brotherly love.” I spent much of my time there on urban exploration, but got to shoot its beautiful skyline on a couple occasions. Thank you to our friend Veronika, who was a great guide, and whose IG can be found here.
Goodnight, Philadelphia.
T A B U L A R A S A photography 