16 or 17. Yes, this is the world in which I grew up. New York City. It was vibrant and real, hot and cool, rough and smooth: what did I see through the bus window when Robert Frank photographed this street view. I do not know the street but I recall the "types." They were not of my world and yet they were my world. These anonymous persons were to shape my life; if not the individuals photographed in Frank's masterful composition then in the messages they encoded in all their being.
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