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I thought about this alleyway a lot before making this image. How much has it changed from say the 1930s when Hammet's Sam Spade, or Chandler's Philip Marlowe bounced down these kinds of lanes in a battered Cord. Can't you hear, oh - I don't know - maybe Lester Young's tenor growling out the surprisingly sweet, "These Foolish Things"? And see how the last stabs of sky-color mix with the old auto's yellow lights to catch the peeling hues of pre-Depression parking-garage paint. Where these things horse or carriage stalls just a decade earlier? And now, eighty years later, can we see - through our squinting eyes- any hint of what they'll be eighty years from now when people not yet born bounce down the lanes at sunset in... in... what?