One of the things that drew my fiance and I to Brooklyn was the vibrancy of the neighborhoods. I mean this both as the neighborhoods’ aesthetic vibrancy as well as the cultural vibrancy and diversity of its people. I took a walk during a hot summer day and on the way home, just a few blocks from our apartment, passed this shop window. I had bought my camera, “Sidney” as I’ve been calling it, as a balm for the acute grief I was experiencing after the unexpected death of my best friend. Sidney was helping to get me out of the house, to keep my eyes open and searching for the beautiful, the moving, the meaningful. At the time I took this photograph, I was still in deep, deep, raw grief. I was not giving myself enough credit simply for getting out of pajama pants and taking a walk outside. The colors of the shop window caught my eye from across the street, and it wasn’t until I was standing in front of it that I saw the words on the window. Even though the words were a command, I interpreted them more as a moment of connection with something greater than myself, and as acknowledgment. I saw it as the universe telling me in an image that my choice to buy the camera as a tool to help me through the grief was my way of “doing something” and would reward me by showing me the beautiful colors of life again.