i wrote to r. holy fou mogra, the fog. just to the right of frame two men sat in beach chairs in the turnaround by the highway with a bottle of tequila and a kid and woman in the car behind. i felt the wariness, but the kid came out and barked in a calling way to mister so we went nearer and said you want to pet him, and i had my camera around my neck and asked if he wanted to do a picture, crazy right? i know, i feel like i watch myself sometimes a moment after and think how naive are you, and the kid said yes and the dad said no pix, and i said ok then see you and i'm bristling a little and a little scary and thinking people are so blank, self-contained, distrusting, the simplest interaction, a good kid, a good dog, the fog enveloping, a soft picture, i think it's sad, it's stupid, to prevent. but then after i thought, what would i do if someone wanted to take my picture? would my mind say, but for what? and then i thought it may be practical, these fellows may be gangstars and not want the publicity. when we came around again they were gonesville.