I found a family when I found skateboarding. Between the ages of 9–16, I moved around a lot; six cities, two countries. Thanks to my board, I found friends everywhere. At a skatepark, there are no strangers, there are no social strata, no ethnicities, no judgement ––just skaters, and my board was my passport, my club card.

One of these very special clubhouses is the L.E.S Coleman (aka LES) Skatepark in NYC. It is situated directly under the Manhattan Bridge in the Lower East Side/Chinatown area. LES is a cathedral, and the Manhattan Bridge is its ceiling, providing shelter from the sun, rain, and snow — for the most part. The passing trains overhead shake and rumble and overwhelm your senses more than any pipe organ or choir ever could. Every day of the year, you’ll find worshippers studying the topography of this hallowed ground, and if you stick around long enough, the spirit overtakes you.

I visited LES four different times in 2015 — Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. I was looking for details. I wanted to photograph people in “the zone.” I tried hard to go unnoticed and to capture everything as it happened, nothing more. I wasn’t searching for any themes, either. I found good skaters, great skaters, bad skaters, grinders, and dust eaters. I particularly liked photographing the guys who didn’t give up — they tried, fell, got up, tried again, fell harder, tried harder. That’s how it should be.

All pictures were captured on Ilford 35mm film (HP5, Delta 400, FP-4 Plus 125) using a Nikon F2 camera and Nikkor lenses (28–50mm, 35mm, 80–200mm). I processed all pictures at home.

Vans. Always Vans.

I watched this guy try to hardflip this funbox for what seemed like days. He eventually got it.

This guy knew what he was doing.

Nikkor 80–200mm. This one took a few tries.

I actually watched this kid fall and get up all day. Each time he fell, he went skidding on his back, his hat flying off his head. He was relentless.

He lost balance mid grind… fell hard.

Kickflip.