Under good night moon, versatility is sacrificed for comfort. I love the way the light dives in and then slowly draws itself back because nothing lasts. Brown skinny, fingers and paw prints, when the sun's up I always find it hard to tell my side of the story. The light is so consistent and my hands are so very shaky. Lay your head back and draw a bath, color the kitchen in your grey leotard and lose yourself in the window's interpretation of the sun. Your hands are big and soft like the bear I fed in the forest. I wish I had my 35mm to capture it's softness; but any common fool knows you can't capture a true wild one on film.