one of them is me, and I don't know who

Restless. Perhaps I should leave work early, and walk around a bit, maybe look for the right shade of lipstick, before Reive and I head over to the piano bar, and talk about life, art, essence, love, and the like. Or perhaps I'll stay here and read emails, or something.

I'm feeling very aware of the images I present, and bemused by people's reactions to them. Words simmering just below the surface of my mind, not quite rising to the top to be seen. Two pictures up this week -- both are me, neither is me. Reive's comments about the camera, and what people read into the photos comes back. The crouching picture -- "intense" is a word that's popped up more than once; no one but me knows that that was the beginning of a smile.

What do you see? What do I see?