Yo, the most off‑beat spot I hit was this abandoned subway tunnel in the south‑side district. It’s got this cracked brick wall, and in the middle of all the graffiti, someone carved a tiny stone garden—little pebbles, a miniature topiary made of chipped paint, a tiny stone bench. I sat there with my sketchpad, listening to the hum of trains above, and felt like I’d stumbled into a secret garden right under the city’s skin. The whole vibe was this quiet rebellion against the concrete. That place still haunts my wanderings.

Thanks, that means a lot. Maybe next time we can hit a rooftop garden in the old industrial block—just say the word, and we’ll dig it out together.