a_trick_of_the_light raze there was a half_moon window sitting on the top rail of my neigbour's fence yesterday. i knew it wasn't real. it looked the way some people look in dreams when you're imagining them. a little overexposed. there, but not there. i couldn't work out where it was coming from. i got a good look at her windows, or at least the windows that were close enough to take credit for creating the illusion if they wanted to hog all the glory. they were single hung. there was nothing special about them. and there wasn't anything in her backyard or my kitchen shaped like a lunette. i waved my hands around. nothing changed. there wasn't anything inside of me shaped like a lunette either. i didn't think light could do a thing like that on its own. it had to be getting some help from somewhere. i walked out of the kitchen, down a few steps, and onto the short landing that leads to my backyard. i saw the transom window built into the top of my back door. a lunette. that was it. that was what i was seeing. when i was making breakfast, i saw the coffee maker sticking out a little on the kitchen counter. i pushed it back into place. the light coming through the half_moon window bounced off the wall and hit the coffee maker's stainless steel carafe. then that twice-refracted light was refracted one last time and filtered through my kitchen window, and a patterned pane of glass i only ever look through to see if a rabbit i love has deigned to pay me a visit in spirit form projected itself onto the chilled face of the afternoon to teach me something about the sorcery of luminescence. 211221 ... raze it's back again. (and i still wish i hadn't somehow missed the h in "neighbour" up there.) 220110 ... kerry [thanks for bringing this back up. the last paragraph--perfect.] 220110 ... unhinged i don't use the flash on my camera; the blur of the florescent lights and the moon create an abstract weird_beauty in the frame my dad, who taught me how to use a camera when i was a child, had a proof sheet of similar photos, the street lamps on the snowy highway like stars. a trick of the light that my mom had to help him capture on film. possibly one of their earliest dates, almost half a century ago. now i don't have to focus the camera myself i don't even need to wait for someone else to print the film it's been countless years since i loaded a new roll of film in a analog camera nervous that the ambient light would develop the film before i had a chance to emboss an image on it with the push of a button now all i do is push a button and i am sharing my images with a friend in cairo faster than it took to focus the light forms beams through the clouds he smiles half way across the world where the light is bent at a different angle i knew my dad liked to take photos; he was the one that taught me how to snap them myself. but finding his proof sheets after he died, i was having another of those silent_conversations with him. the geometry of architecture and the transience of light were all over his proof sheets much the same way they were all over my google photos app. like father like daughter. if i woulda known i woulda sent you more photos of the clouds; 220111 what's it to you? who go blather from