Day 5 . . .

Day 4 . . .

The pickin's in the yard are getting slim . . .

Day 3 . . .

and we are surprised I am in a wine bin, why????

plain and simple . . .

Credits: Playing in the Snow by Vinnie Pearce, Font: LB_typewriter

the good is oft interred with the bones . .

the past comes back in whiffs, like summer smoke or that steamy acrid smell of wet pavement after a summer shower on a blazing August afternoon . . . it rises and entices . . . dancing through the corridors of ones memory. But pasts . . . varied . . . unfettered . . . mercurial, if you will . . . . contains all things that combine to make us who we are. Yet if one were to take a single photograph . . . a frozen portrait in time . . . and presume that it defined a life as a whole, the assumption would be diffused and vacant . . . myopic. We must take care how we judge.

PAD Day 2 . . .

PAD Day 1 . . .

Remember the picture a day project back in May? We're doing it again over at http://www.jessicasprague.com/ This is my day 1 shot: