Beneath the city’s skin, where schedules dissolve into echoes, the rail reveals itself as a disciplined dream. These photographs, enter spaces meant to be passed through, not seen. The camera lingers on steel and concrete, on tunnels that repeat until repetition becomes ritual. Parallel lines hold the dark at bay, curves return like refrains.

Stripped of passengers and signs, the subway becomes a gallery of intention. Light pools and vanishes, teaching the eye to trust rhythm over destination. 

This is a celebration of the rail as a work of art because it was never meant to be one, honoring labor, alignment, and the quiet elegance of systems that move millions while remaining unseen.