many pictures drift away. i was just thinking of one of spider bridge, a panorama in warm black and white the other day, wondering if i can find it now. it's somewhere like in a fog. i guess a picture is immediately past anyway. while some particular ones float away i repeat the picture rolls, rolling misters, my slippy shadows, suds, like doing the wash, or carrying the water. some things i do rarely, some never, some every day. i dedicate this attention to those things that i return to every day, and along with them i drift away.