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  • When I first arrived, I walked straight towards the water.
    Richmond Terrace, Staten Island. Inside a brick compound run by Ed. He is a man who used to drive a tug boat and now patrols the alleys on a bike with a basket and a teddy bear strapped under the seat. He told me about pebble mills for grinding pigment, the ovens for cooking varnish and small airplanes landing on Governors Island. He ended our conversation with "Stay sober."
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