I just got back from travels where I was repeatedly ripped off, including to find in the end my camera. So, in attempts to distract myself from my own misery, I decided to hang a very cool painting bought on this trip of Don Quixote walking alone with his faithful nag Rocinante, and reflected upon my own abbreviated version of Quixote's quest as I grappled with accepting what is still unacceptable to me - that my pictures are but memories. Quixote's desire to keep Chivalry alive, if only in his mind - and the lengths he was willing to go to display it - we all have our windmills. My life-long journey has also included tilting at windmills as I'd once fallen into a hopeless state resembling nothing other than a bankrupt idealist, a phrase also used in the book Alcoholics Anonymous. I very much relate to Don Quixote, the crazy bastard.