Don’t look now. Don’t look away.  Who you lookin’ at?  In love and all I’ve got is a photograph.  A picture’s what’s left of a look, the stare you were too bashful for and really couldn’t anyway because we are subject to double vision.  My body perambulates alongside other bodies, buildings, and things. Seeing is not touching but is from the same part of the brain.  “Seeing touching tasting are in the deceived,” said Thomas Aquinas

Pose, and counterpoise, photography’s promiscuity making me a prude dancing the pole.  Seduction, cuckoldry, and proposition to question understandings wrought through the senses and more.  Experience now remembered.  My pictures’ mash-up, high to low, domestic to the public, personal to social, is, when photographed, rendered as…photograph, no more, no less than object and image, a still life.