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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