I went out today with my buddy Tom Fagan... I with my mini-bicycle and camera; Tom with his easel and paints.  We talked about painting and photography, drawing with light...

 Paying attention to light with oils and canvas and camera.  

We were in Coronado. 

It was an especially good time. 

I came back home and found a poem I wrote a back in 1992 after coming home with Margaret from the theater... it's about light.

DUSK

The exact moment when the curtain drops
is as important as any bit of dialogue in the play.
Dusk has to happen; it can't be postponed, 
which is, if I were a playwright, and I'm not,
is what I'd want the audience to feel.
Let this thing be done with, I'd want them to think.
And as for that, I'd insist on a thing or two
different from the things I've seen.  
The curtain should not drop at all,
but very gradually, like the coming night,
quiet darkness would envelop second by second
everything and everyone with just a hint of dread.

With my camera I painted this scene

while Tom painted it with oil on canvas.

With my camera I sketched him with light.

...and with my camera he got me in black and white...

...and color.