Change does not mean dropping everything. I've done that. More than once. It works too well. The tendency has been to bury myself inside my head, inside my house (or, at least, inside this end of town), inside my routines. That's my fight with the car. A car represents going somewhere, outside my head, outside my house, outside my routines, but before I buy the car, I need a decision to leave, I need, you know, a direction. You get the drift. I'm sitting here spinning my wheels, but closer, I hope, to the road.

Are the studio lights a way to stay inside? Probably not. You have to bring the outside world in to shoot its picture. (Smile world. Look at the camera.) That would lead somewhere. I'm not up for shooting still lifes, photographing various combinations of the boxes stacked on my rug. I can shoot Emmy, haven't done much with her yet, but there are only so many pictures you can take of your cat.

"What's he doing doctor?"

Shooting his cat.

"Oh."

So have you ordered the damned studio lights?

No. Not yet.