...he rode all unarmed and he rode all alone...

I have a tendency to view myself through the eyes of other people and let their gaze define the edges of my self-esteem. I think I know what they see - not absolutely, and naturally some people are harder to read than others. But usually my sense is fairly accurate, and yesterday my sense was telling me that I was blurred to blend into a seen-everyday soon-forgotten landscape. Occasionally I jump loudly into the frame, a clashing protrusion from the scene that is obnoxious and spoils the effect. The challenge becomes, then, to clear the boundaries and define the lines in a subtle embossing that works with the context of the image and doesn't jar. Maybe I accomplished that. I got an interaction anyhow, unprompted, out of nowhere (though for all I know it was the kind of subtly sardonic I'm too naive to pick up on). Yesterday it told me "I am a person again! I exist!"

On the other side of my personality, the stronger, better part of me is shouting her response: "We were always a person! We are master of our own image, subject AND context of the work, and in this setting our gaze defines YOU!"