Market Street in Flux: Walking Philadelphia and Publishing 115 Photos with AI
Yo, what’s poppin’, people? It’s Dante.
So I just got back from walking the entirety of Market Street from the 69th Street Station in West Philadelphia all the way to Penn’s Landing. Along the journey, I made around 115 photographs and launched a project page called Market Street in Flux, where you can view a fully geotagged map of the walk and browse all of the photographs. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}
You can download a zine, access the contact sheet, and even browse the original JPEG files.
“Here we have 36 frames that will be included in the zine. You can click ‘full archive’ to view the full 115 images.”
The Aesthetic of Bureaucracy
I’ve been making these zines with the aesthetics of bureaucracy.
I’m adopting the manila folder, computer paper, and simple monospace text as an aesthetic decision. As my philosophy around Flux starts to physically manifest itself, I’m embracing imperfection, industrial design, and ephemerality.
The staple marks are exposed.
The covers are mostly empty space.
The title, date, and project information sit quietly on the page.
I like the feeling that these documents are temporary.
Disposable.
Yet somehow worth preserving.
Market Street in Flux
The project page is generated almost entirely through AI.
AI helps me:
- Sequence photographs chronologically
- Gather metadata
- Geotag images
- Generate project descriptions
- Build the project page
The project description reads:
I traced Market Street from Upper Darby through Millbourne into Philadelphia over 3 hours and 16 minutes in early June, creating 150 monochrome photographs documenting the transformation of the corridor as it crosses municipal boundaries.
Every project also receives a QR code that links directly to the online archive.
The Flux Protocol
Each zine contains a protocol page explaining the system.
Flux is an open-source chronological photography publishing system.
I upload 36 photographs and the system automatically generates:
- A PDF publication
- A contact sheet
- A metadata manifest
- A printable issue
Almost like a technical manual.
Step 1: Capture
I shoot with a compact camera using small JPEGs.
I quickly select photographs using thumbnails.
I upload them to my publishing system.
The issue gets generated automatically.
At the end of every protocol page is a QR code that allows anyone to generate their own issue by uploading 36 photographs.
Metadata as Memory
Every photograph is automatically captioned with:
- Date
- Time
- Location
- Photographer name
At the top of every page:
- Project title
- Sequence number
At the bottom:
- Exact capture information
The first frame was made at 69th Street Station.
From there, the walk simply unfolded.
Why I’m No Longer Interested in the Single Image
Lately I’ve become fascinated with pure documentation.
I’m not interested in the single image anymore.
I’m interested in accumulation.
I’m interested in archives.
I’m interested in photography as a way of preserving time.
This is what Market Street looked like on June 1st, 2026.
I wanted to photograph it.
As life changes, as architecture decays, as businesses disappear and streets transform, I find myself wanting to preserve these things before they’re gone.
The grit.
The grain.
The imperfections.
The cheap copy paper.
The disposable document.
All of it reflects what I’m actually thinking about photography.
Following Visual Sensitivity
I’m still photographing intuitively.
I’m photographing:
- Old cars
- Construction sites
- Buckets on the ground
- Church crosses
- ATM machines
- Telephone booths
- Signage
- Murals
- Lamp posts
- Infrastructure
I’m not chasing landmarks.
I’m not looking for specific subjects.
I’m following instinct.
Looking at shapes.
Shadows.
Lines.
Textures.
And photographing the things that feel temporary.
Photographing Change
I stopped to photograph a mural.
A man approached me and said:
“This was different before.”
I asked him what it used to be.
He told me.
And that’s exactly why I was photographing it.
Because these details are changing.
Every day.
The retro signs.
The vacant homes.
The overgrown buildings.
The phone booths.
The storefronts.
The architecture.
They’re all disappearing.
Into Center City
As I moved into Center City around 15th Street near Dilworth Plaza, I noticed a man wearing a great hat.
I photographed him.
Then I came across the giant portal installation where people can communicate through live video.
A strange futuristic object sitting in the middle of the city.
I also found myself photographing newspaper prices and ordinary details.
Because I think these things matter.
When we look back years from now, these small details may become the most valuable parts of the archive.
Penn’s Landing
Eventually I reached Penn’s Landing.
The end of Market Street.
No more street left to conquer.
The walk was over.
The Contact Sheet
At the back of every issue is a contact sheet containing all 36 selected photographs.
It’s an homage to 35mm film.
There’s also a manifest document listing the locations where every image was made.
If you want exact locations, the QR code links directly to the online map.
The Interactive Map
On the project page, you can:
- Open the map full screen
- Click individual photographs
- See exact locations
- View coordinates
- Browse the archive
- Download images
Every point on the map corresponds to a photograph.
The geography becomes part of the work.
Building a Publishing Machine
The larger goal is simple.
I make photographs.
Flux handles everything else.
I upload the images.
The system:
- Generates captions
- Creates statistics
- Measures distance walked
- Calculates time spent
- Produces project descriptions
- Generates a printable zine
- Builds the website
The result is a complete project with almost no friction.
What’s Next?
I’ve already completed:
- Market Street in Flux
- Broad Street in Flux
Maybe next is Chestnut Street in Flux.
Who knows.
Throw another folder into the rusty filing cabinet and move on to the next one.
That’s pretty much it.
Thanks for watching.
I’ll see you in the next one.
Peace.
Let’s go catch the sunset and call it a day.