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Damn Juilliard degree. (But in all seriousness, a colorful member of The Xylopholks. Coming to a subway platform near you)

Three Mind-Blowing Facts: 1) These feet belong to a 72 year old man 2) Two years ago he ran a marathon 3) At the North Pole

There goes my hero.

Not sure I can think of a better caption than a simple description: four horse headed people found on Wall Street.

"How's the team doing?" "One win. One loss. And two draws. But these kids had never touched a baseball before. So we're doing good." — at Lower East Side.

Hemingway and Gellhorn

Photographed this man a few months ago. Saw him again on the subway last night. I generally try not to photograph anyone twice, but, well--look at him.

"We've been together a long, long time." "What's your favorite thing about each other?" "Well, he may not be able to understand you too well right now, but he's a sweet old bird yet." — at Washington Square Park.

Popeye the [Adorable] Sailor Man

I saw these two through the window of a West Village cafe, and had to try for their photograph. I was a little nervous about how they'd react to my interrupting their dinner. But I walked up to their table, and before I even had the chance to open my mouth, the man smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. I knew I'd be leaving with a portrait.

"I'm an illustrator. You've seen my work."

Entrepreneurial twin sisters set up a handmade jewelry stand at Union Square. They look cute now, but wait until it's time to split the money and one of them decides she did the most work.

This young Israeli girl was travelling with her mother. She seemed unsure about taking a photo, but her mom grabbed the shopping bags from her and started pushing her forward.

She's got him covered.

"My father has Asperger's, so it's always been very difficult to connect with him emotionally. Then a few years ago I was reading Truman Capote's 'Other Voices, Other Rooms,' and there's this scene where the main character prays to know his father. And when he's done praying, the chapter ends: 'And in this moment, like a swift intake of breath, the rain came.'"

I was walking through Central Park last night around midnight, when I noticed some shadowy, hunched figures wading among the lily pads in Bethesda Fountain. They appeared to be hunting for coins. It was an interesting scene, but it was far too dark to take a photo. An hour later, however, I noticed one of the same guys wading through the fountain in front of The Met. I climbed in with him and asked for a photograph.

Apparently having grown bored of the exhibits at The Metropolitan Museum, this man turned to something more amusing.

This man was in a huge hurry, so all we know for sure is that he is "a designer," "originally from France," and occasionally enjoys a good frozen cappuccino.

Rosie The Riveting

The Best Dressed Man in New York

She goes to Columbia- where she's working on a major, three minors, and is on the leadership committee of "about 15 clubs." She hopes to one day be a lawyer helping recent immigrants. And she wasn't bragging. I just ask a lot of questions.

"I've got three bullets in my leg from Vietnam." "You got shot three times?" "I got shot five times. Three are still in there." After I took the photograph, he walked away a few steps, then came back: "If anyone wants to know," he said, "my name is Staff Sergeant Frank Mellilo."

I kinda want to hold hands with these two and walk around all day.

I kept asking where they were from, and they kept answering "everywhere." I kept pressing, and finally the mom answered, going down the line from left to right: "London, Gabon, France, and London." "But you're a family?" I asked. "Yes," she answered. I decided not to try and unravel the details.

Something tells me this man graduates every single day.