330/365 – The child in me

I didn’t grow-up in New York city nor Brooklyn. I grew-up in Laval, a suburb of Montreal. On those hot summer days, nothing would bring a smile to my face like the “Ice Cream Truck”. I would run to my house and ask my mom for money to buy a cold, delicious ice cream from the beloved truck. Really, it was a simple life back then.

The door of the Ice Cream Truck is what I bring to you for this edition of Thursday Doors.



Seen around Central Park, near Columbus Circle.