In the hours between long hauls, a truck driver gave form to an inner vision — a miniature New York City of more than 800,000 structures, built not for recognition but for the pure compulsion to create. That private labor has now crossed into the public realm, installed in a museum where strangers encounter the full weight of what solitary dedication can produce. It is a quiet reminder that cultural significance does not always announce itself in advance, and that the most enduring works are sometimes made by people with no audience in mind at all.