For walking New York’s Village streets, thinking about all the stories
… in every doorway … the drama in every railroad flat and bar. The stories are still there.
Screen plays without film. Rough notes from when people wrote letters to friends.
As the light glows or leaves, on cold days, without so much as a parting kiss.
A yellow light in Italy © h. scott heist 09
 I suspect Italy is as good a place to think as any.    There is always the temptation to ruin a photograph by trying to make a painting. Perhaps, no place more so than Northern Italy. And no place sillier than in the home of the Renaissance. Where the art of life was in gathering the skills to make it intelligently beautiful..