It seems to me that our story begins and ends with emotion , but emotion is the hidden substance that everything else takes pains to delineate. Emotions are what link us, separate us, and define us. What authenticate our existence. Breaking down the emotion of a moment seems to be tougher than untangling a clump of thread. And possibly, probably, impossible. Is it not easier to describe the actions , in highest detail, that lead up to, through, and beyond the emotion? To carve at the concrete, negative space as a way to capture that which may be beyond our descriptive grasp.