It was the car guy equivalent of having that friend stop by and immediately locate the missing half-inch socket that you’d been searching for hours to find. My belief that “all things are delicately interconnected” was vindicated once again, via a man I will never have the pleasure of shaking hands with on this Earth. His tragic loss of life would, some fourteen years later, play a part in giving me a fresh perspective on something. All through a few words typed onto a laminated card attached to a flag pole in a park.
In my line of work, time is the enemy. There’s never enough of it. You can only create so many pictures in so much time, and time keeps slipping away from you. Oh, sure… you go at the day with the greatest intentions, but by noon, the day’s half gone (or even less on some more marathon days), and you’re three hours deep in rendering headlamps or hair.