A city is not just a place one merely exists but a living person-like with whom one engages with daily. It’s sensorial, you feel it, you smell it, you touch it, and most importantly you wrestle with it everyday. It is even more so when you walk in the city at night because by then there is no sky and no background and not much energy left. It is just you and the city, face to face, blocks by blocks. A survival act and at the same time a sensual one too. One story that reminds me of that combination of feelings is the nomad Jacob’s struggle at Peniel at night with a being. After a long day of moving, and then alone. Jacob is overwhelmed by that being (God?, Freudian’s dream?, angel?, man?, robber?). But he never let go and employ all his last strength to hold on that being until he gets it. Then he goes to sleep and continue his journey the next day. Therefore I think living in a city, in one’s city, is a serious physical engagement. And when you are traveling to a new place that feeling and sense of engagement is heightened or more documented in your senses. You will get to know a city very intimately after a full day of walking on its surface. Cities have scars, pains, are breathing, constantly laboring, are friendly, occasionally fierce, always traumatic, paranoia, could be sensual, could be unapologetic, could be wringkly or youthful, monumental or monument-like, are faking, are partying. I love cities.