"A man has as many selves as there are individuals who recognize him." -William James

Strange are some threads; bits of string that sometimes i can't help but to keep pulling and pulling...  

But, perhaps, I do have a me that i call upon when i get in my car and drive, and maybe another me is there when i'm at work - another when i come home, and another when i starting thinking about an image, or the me I take when I'm off for a walk...

And... there are those certain selves that, years ago, used to sit on the edge of Kyeti's bed and tell her stories about Kelsey and Little Elizabeth as she drifted off to sleep. I can see him sitting there; i can remember the stories about kitch-kitch crackers and Stendy of Waterville and Ronald-the-Roof... perhaps this me is not gone, merely waiting - single-servings, hatched for a specific moment and waiting for the next.

And yet every day they congregate, for the most part, my friends (although, certainly, some are dangerous and can get me into trouble... but who doesn't have a friend like that from time to time?...) and as events of the day are presented, each plays his part and so the day unfolds. None more important than the next since everyone is required to get the job done.

Notes on the image:

Ha! egg shells were everywhere in the bedroom (I am crunching thru them in the middle of the night and that is not amusing).  

Some images come out all at once and others don't.  This one was in my head for a while and then in production for a longer while and i'm so happy to have it out into the world. Sessions with different back drops and working with eggs and not getting results. The whole mess got shelved for a while.

Then i found this alley downtown Seattle and after a few experiments - i was on the move again.

I also figured out that one of the problem with the eggs - i didn't have ENOUGH eggs. I bought five dozen this time (and ended up taking a few from our refrigerator as well). Now i had enough to assemble my entire egg rows without resorting to photoshop. I started blowing eggs out (you know, ya poke a little hole in each end and then blow out the innards so just the hollow shell is left - and why is it so satisfying when the yoke finally oozes out? does it have something to do with standing in front of a mirror and popping those nasty.... err.. never mind.) and breaking shells and arranging and saving all the broken bits and wow what a mess. All the eggs were set it all up with double-stick tape on a single board and shot with the same lens as the alley shoot.

One last thing - the foxglove plant. The way this plant (and others that have their many flowers on a single tall stalk) shows all the stages of it's blossoms at a single glance is fascinating. One can to see how a foxglove blossom changes with time simply by looking from bottom to top of the stalk.  The entire lifetime of it's flower is compressed to a single moment. Inspiration for the egg layout.

There you go.

In the words of George H. Mead: "A multiple personality is, in a certain sense, normal."