In 1888, her grandfather was a man holding a pencil
imagining a city in little squiggles and lines. “I’m just
so fortunate to be here,” she says at her windowsill.
The asphalt is honest—both straightens and winds.
“When you were a teenager, what did you think you wanted to be when you grew up?
“I knew what I wanted to be… A classically trained ballet dancer.”