This is a picture, not taken, of a ghostly Pac-Man hand puppet, materializing into existence from a deep sigh during a steamy shower, then slowly fading away, all while infinitesimally adding to the hard water stained patina of the now translucent Plexiglas stall…

This is a picture, not taken, of a gymnastic motorcycle rider, treating his ride like a balancing horse, legs performing a Russian Folk Dance, all while circling a Red Bull statute perched on top of a mini-Cooper driving down IH-35, during the afternoon rush-hour commute…

This is a picture, not taken, snapping me out of my monotonous morning commute along a vast concrete savannah, noticed by my primal brain’s serpentine early warning system, of some discarded cable rolling on the ground, whipped into action by winds and passing traffic…

This is a picture, not taken, of a table after cleaning, the ridged cotton rag leaving behind long, thinly spaced lines, much like a newly plowed field, however, the large cursive “l” sweep left behind by the waiter, created the perfect image of a giant’s fingerprint whorl…

This is a picture, not taken, of an Elvis impersonator swinging his arms around wildly, not to the beat of loud music, but to the beat of a corporate overlord, who takes advantage of people needing to sell gold for money in hard economic times…

This is a picture, not taken, of a tall Tervis tumbler with a Longhorn patch, sitting on a table bathed by a rectangle of harsh sunlight, the reflection creating a ring of light around the cup looking exactly like the rings of Saturn with a Bevo moon in orbit…

This is a picture, not taken, of the intricate smudges left on a plate from rolls of sushi, the thin strokes organizing themselves, in my mind’s eye, into the calligraphic art of Shodo-, drawn by the brush of chopsticks holding cooked rice kernels as they swish around the plate…

This is a picture, not taken, of a flock of birds in flight across the morning sunrise, grouped into three chevron formations, one large, the other two equally small and both situated behind the trailing edges, giving the overall structure the semblance of a binary tree…

This is a picture, not taken, of tiny motes of powdered sugar dancing a Brownian jig in front of my eyes, rising off the thermals from a hot cup of coffee, and reflecting off the morning sunlight streaming obliquely through the window…

This is a picture, not taken, of the morning sunrise seen through the buildings and elevated highways of a metropolis, the stacked layers of differently colored clouds combined with the reddish-yellow spot of the sun, made it seem that I was a resident of some future city in Europa looking at Jupiter looming on the horizon…