Misled by Fancy's meteor-ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray, Was light from Heaven.

I come from Montana, and in eastern Montana we have a lot of dirt between light bulbs. It is expensive trying to bring the new technologies to smaller schools to upgrade their technologies to take advantage of distance learning.

For I light my candle from their torches.

Light is architectural. It is sculptural.

History is malleable. A new cache of diaries can shed new light, and archeological evidence can challenge our popular assumptions.

Photographs don’t discriminate between the living and the dead. In the fragments of time and shards of light that compose them, everyone is equal. Now you see us; now you don’t. It doesn’t matter whether you look through a camera lens and press the shutter. It doesn’t even matter whether you open your eyes or close them. The pictures are always there. And so are the people in them.