The flying newspapers seemed to behold in their movements all the nuances of a life full of energy and thrill as well as loneliness. I spent many months stalking the empty streets of lower Manhattan looking for my 'friends', only to find them at times sadly lingering in the windless gutters, and at others, run over by traffic, and still others, soaring with a youthful joy towards the sky - in spite of it all. So in retrospect, Breath could perhaps be seen as a diary of life in New York City.