Standing amidst the roaring throng of people in the midtown market and trying to observe its energy, I realized I was at a disadvantage. I found myself wanting to instead be in a helicopter spying on the market as a whole. From such a vantage point, the market could be recognized as the single organism it truly is. I imagined myself and my fellow shoppers as blood flowing through the veins of this creature we brought to life. The next image I had was of the crowd as a flowing river, twisting and turning about the market with a strong current in some areas, flowing lazily about and even pooling in other areas. From this perspective, the energy of this marketplace would be readily apparent; its ebb and flow could be seen with the naked eye. This lofty view has inherent disadvantages as well, however. As an outside observer, one would be blind to the infinite microcosms that make up the whole. Oblivous to the jostling mulitudes with thier sounds and sights and smells, one would be unaware of the human interactions that give this place life. The talking, buying and selling of goods, the uncouncious nonverbal communication that arises in a crowd: all of these activities are integral to the great energy exchange. These interactions, these human activities, are what create the energy of the market, but it is the place itself, its physical structure, that shapes and guides this energy, giving the market context and definition. This market is a prime example of how people and the environment affect each other, and how important design is in the success of a place.