Dan Pak

McMerica January 2026

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NY Times, 1994

A lot of things happened in 1994. I met a lot of people that year who changed my life. I saw and did a lot of things that I had only read about up until that point. I had dreams of writing a novel. I watched some friends venture out into the world and wondered why anyone would ever leave New York. I stayed out late through the night into the dawn doing things you do between those hours. Most of it is all a blur now but still dense with nostalgia, always a lingering familiarity that strikes across all the senses, a reverie that is precise and detailed in my gut. There’s a shape and sound and smell. 1994 reeked of possibility. I don’t specifically miss that time or place (1994, New York), but I do miss feeling like everything was about to happen to and around me. And I miss my friends who aren’t here anymore, especially the ones that I didn’t get to say goodbye to.

I bought my first camera in 1994 and spent countless hours in a darkroom. I documented those years religiously, realizing it would all be worth looking at one day, only to later lose a lot of those photos and negatives in a fire in 2002. I wish I still had some of those photos but I also think they might mean more laid to rest as memories than they could living on instagram.

Party time.