In this picture, I love the soft, indistinct words, the smeared edges of light changing the baby’s face from china into rubbed pastel.  I made a similar image, sharply focussed on these features :

You’d think it would be easy to admit I prefer to live with blurry vision.  Why is it so hard to choose?

Because I am afraid of choosing the “wrong” one.  Because I want you to like it, too.  You are here, after all, visiting my internet home.  What will you think of a picture where nothing is clear?  Don’t you want to be absolutely sure what you are seeing?

These images aren’t drafts and they aren’t revisions.  It still mystifies me that my brain shut up long enough for me to hear them breathe out their whispered desire to become reality.  They are different answers to different questions, and I don’t exactly understand their language.   How can I know what purpose they have come for?