Oct. 16, 2003 @ 9:48 p.m.

Just past the edge of my fingers, it slides away as if it was ice and oil on sweating skin. I can smell it, breathe on it, almost taste it, but I can’t grab it. What is it I’m reaching for? Coming at it from a certain perspective places all the puzzle pieces in correct, corrugated order, but the photograph is out of focus and looks to have been taken with the wrong aperture setting. Business demands a re-shoot and I got the job. I will fix your broken image, I will spot-check your blurry focus after I correct it. But in the end, will the photo be of me, looking through your eyes? Let me get my camera and take a look.