There's something about the half-awake-ness of early morning.
Part dream....part reality.
Part illusion....part truth.
Part fiction....part fact.
Part conscious....and mostly - not.
The ritual of waking and walking and recording each and every day the world anew. The edges soften. The lines blurr. Some days - impossible - toknow if this is my imagination playing willful tricks on me...or if this is as it is - just as it unfolds. Before me.
The camera never lies. Or - so they say. Some days - I'm not sure what to believe.
What is real?
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