Hi, honey – I wonder how you are doing today?  My day had some sort of hard edges to it – a kind of hard disappointment, actually.  But – since you can resolve some things by just letting them go – that’s what I did.  Everything’s fine. I’m listening to your radio, which always sounds so good – and about which more some other night.  It happens to be Chopin, so you’d approve.

I’ve been going over all my pictures looking for butterflies.  The Dodgeville Butterfly Window is from the first year of 29 Butterflies, and it’s still one of my favorites.  I don’t know – maybe all the photo people think it is weak.  But nine years later, I wouldn’t make it any better or any differently.

Looking at so many images has surprised me.  Even some of the earliest ones hum with the distinct something I wanted to find.  I don’t know if that makes them good images – but it makes them enduring for me.

At the beginning, when I knew even less than the very little I know now, making pictures often wasn’t very fun – in part because I’m wired for so much self-punishment.  But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t play.

When you are finding out and failing, but you glimpse a little more every time – isn’t that the best feeling in the world?  Is there anything better than discovering something you dearly want to know?  When things are new, of course, trial and error dominates what you can create, and makes you quell your own impatience.  Since nothing is coming easy, the rewards can linger in the distance – arriving like little miracles when they choose.

It’s much, much harder when you think you know where you are headed, and how you will get there and what it will be like when you arrive.  And no, I’m not really talking about photography anymore.  Duh.

Now dear, after this navel-gazing ramble through the weeds in my brain, aren’t you barely keeping your eyes open?  I know I am…So I’ll let you tuck in for the night, and I will do all my night time things – and I will see you tomorrow, honey with some more butterflies.