This picture captures one of my favorite moments in Chicago: dusk. When the light in the sky fades, the lights on the buildings shine like electric stars. The city, though busier in the daytime, comes alive at night. The lights energize the city to start its second wind.

This picture inspires me to write something like a noir tale set in the 40s. What does it inspire in you?

I also love stairs. They always lead somewhere better, somewhere higher, with a better view. This was taken in the Vatican Museum.

Where are your favorite set of stairs? Mine are actually in my parent's home, but they're not as picturesque.

I love windows. They give glimpses to the outside world; there's something metaphorical about them. This window was in a tiny ancient chapel in the Black Forest of Germany. Inside, my companions sang an old hymn a capella and the notes rose to the rafters and filled the little chapel with beautiful music.
Where do you imagine this window to be?

I happen to live near one of the most beautiful beaches: Clearwater Beach, Florida. The most spectacular thing happens each evening-- the sun sets. Sometimes people gather to watch this event, and clapp their hands, as if applauding the Creator for yet another good show.



Who are these boys and what is their story?

These are my friend's hands, playing ear-tickling tunes.



What tunes do you hear? What is the story behind this photo?

I love everything about this photo. The little French boy in his little red Chucks, his little tooshie popping out of his shorts, the intensity with which he plays with the boat.



What is this little boy's story?

Somewhere in France, there was a cathedral. In said cathedral were rows of votives. In said votives were lit wicks representing the prayers of people with real lives, real troubles, and real hopes.



What prayers were prayed here?

This could be a tropical island, a national park, or a reservoir behind an apartment complex. This could evoke green thoughts of destroyed trees, existential musings of one's roots, or melancholy feelings of detachment. If I were thinking deeply, I'd notice the civilization across the body of water, and the contrast between that and the solitary uprooted tree on the sand. I suppose it must stand for something, but I'm not thinking deeply at the moment.

Really, I took this photo while on a field trip with my third graders two years ago in Clearwater, Florida. The Aquarium took us out on a boat to an island in the Clearwater Bay, where my students excitedly showed me broken shells and sand dollars, and I attempted to keep my eyes on each one, so as not to have to rescue them from the surf. The odd thing is, this was not the only fallen tree on this tiny island. We posed on another one.

What do you see?