Hers were cave-black eyes. Eyes
that saw everything, eyes that revealed nothing. So deep was her stare that no
one saw inside. Ageless eyes, some called them, many lifetimes older than the
13-year-old girl who studied strangers with them through the lens of her
camera. She frequently brushed her hair away from her face, fine, straight hair
that complimented her lissome, waif-like body. Hair that matched the color of
her eyes. She spent her summer Santa Fe mornings stalking images of light and
meaning, images to awaken in her makeshift darkroom later in the day, as she so
carefully stripped away silver particles to reveal her thoughts and visions.