Kristopher Shi's practice begins with a particular mode of attention — one shaped by years of moving between geographies without fully settling in any of them. For the constantly migratory, place is never fully inhabited. It is always being read from the outside, registered before it can be forgotten. What accumulates is not the coherent sense of a neighborhood or a city, but something smaller and more stubborn: numbers, signs, words — granular details that anchor experience retrospectively, webbing fragmented memories into a personal geography.

Boulevard, The Word We Got Used To then emerged from Kristopher's first year living in Los Angeles, which he spent largely on foot. Without a car, he walked the notoriously un-walkable city daily, plotting routes on a map the night before, reading the city through whatever it offered, which, most consistently, were street numbers — the smallest, most indifferent facts a city produces. Throughout 2025, Kristopher photographed nearly every street address sign along Wilshire Boulevard, assembling a continuous horizontal sequence that runs numerically from east to west.

In early 2026, he brought printed copies of that sequence to a vacant apartment in Liaoyang, China and installed them along the walls. The furniture was still in the apartment, draped in plastic sheeting. He photographed the installation there. Alongside, he wrote an essay about the walks: how the city's smallest, most indifferent details became, through repetition and accident, the material of memory.

The book holds all three parts — street number sequence, installation photographs, essay — physically interleaved without captions or explanation. Neither explains the other, and the gap between them is the argument on a new geography of the the migratory persons.

Boulevard, The Word We Got Used To is published as a first experimental edition of 100 copies, under the imprint of possibly probably perhaps.