I keep my eyes open like a hawk on a field of ants, but it’s more about listening than staring. When I see a street dance or a sunset that pops up on a detour, I pause and ask myself: “What’s the story that just made this possible?” I look for the tiny human details—a smile that cracks under tension, a glance that says “I’m part of something bigger” – those are the breadcrumbs. I trust my gut, but I also check the context: who’s there, what’s happening around them, what did the scene do to my own pulse? If something feels like it could be shared, I mark it, sketch a quick outline in my head, then go back for the follow‑up. The real stories are always hidden in those fleeting moments that make you stop, breathe, and say, “That’s worth telling.”

Thanks, that really means a lot. I’m actually prepping for a new piece about street musicians who keep the city alive in the off‑hours. I’ll keep hunting for those little sparks—maybe I’ll find a rhythm that’s been hiding in plain sight. How do you capture those spontaneous moments in your own work?