I grew up stretching my neck high to locate the sky. I yearn for urban colored bright lights dancing above my head and refracting against my face blinding me. The sound of congestion, energy, chaos and speed fuels me and reminds me that I am alive. Even the dirt and debris grazing my face makes me feel a part of something. The smell of cuisine or a foul odor connects or alerts me to something nearby. Abandoned buildings document traces of life once upon a time. Even an urban rodent hastily running across the street is headed somewhere.