It’s hard to think of anything cooler than the images of James Dean exploring New York City in the mid-1950s. The photos capture a long lost and special piece of the city’s history and offer a glimpse into Dean’s brief stint as a New Yorker.

“Being an actor is the loneliest thing in the world. You are all alone with your concentration and imagination, and that’s all you have.”

James Dean

The pictures track Dean’s footsteps from inside his tiny studio apartment, a fifth-floor walk-up on West 68th Street and follow the curious actor as he wanders around the city.

Whether Dean was sitting on a bar stool chugging beers in Louie’s Tavern in Sheridan Square or chain-smoking in the back of Cromwell’s Pharmacy in Rockefeller Center, he seemed to enjoy being alone.

Dean often ate for free at Jerry’s Bar on 53rd Street and Sixth Avenue. The owner, Jerry Lucci, apparently taught the young actor how to cook Italian food, according to Dean’s biographer.

Of course, Louie’s, Cromwell’s, and Jerry’s no longer exist today.

The pictures show a pensive Dean smoking cigarettes to pass the time. When he wasn’t sculpting, reading or playing the bongos, Dean hung out with several girlfriends; some of them bravely hitched rides on the back of his motorcycle as he zoomed down the city streets with reckless abandon.

James Dean died on September 30, 1955, after smashing his small Porsche into another vehicle on a California Highway. His neck snapped on impact.

Ironically, Dean was on his way to a race, where he planned to show off the new Porsche Speedster, which he named “Little Bastard.”