a range of shifting expressions follow one after another that i can't decipher but feel and i can see vestiges of them or capture some of them in stills i can take home to mull over. so much must seep in thoughout the day, and i wonder if it gets processed in the depths or does it simply sift through our minds and out again. i see these fellows talking on the park bench, and i feel something else being communicated, back of the words, indirectly.