Sunrise, dull gray sky, quite dark, snowy sky. Breakfast. Itbegins to snow. Suddenly, the sky is blue, bright. The snowfall had been like a short downpour.At noon, appointment with Robbie Steinbach, a Taos photographer. It was Lyn Bleiler, because of whom I am here, who told him that a photographer from Nice was at the Wurlitzer Foundation. He sent me an email, asking to get acquainted over drinks. He must have a website. Surprise, Robbie is a woman.The three of us finally meet in a café nearby, which is absolutelytypical Taos they tell me. Which is to say, today in any case, a diverse mix: old hippies including one who has hair down to the ground, some youths with lips, nose, ears pierced, they areout in the sun in sweaters and I am inside freezing with my big jacket on, a very normal looking couple with huge dog, 2, 3 cowboys, a group of girls dressed in "vintage" clothes laughing in the background, an Indian, a very young couple sitting in a corner coming for multiple refills at the counter. Once you have paid for a coffee, you can refill it as often as you want ... Enter two old guys quite good looking Clint Eastwood types, a tall woman in black looking rather depressed, who leaves again after a few distraught glances around, two other Indians who join the first at the bar ...Robbie's pictures show: Jomo, Wendy, Chiaro, Dwight, MelodyLyn who has just has returned from New Orleans tells us how she enjoyed the city. One cannot see, at least from the center of the city, any traces of the hurricane and flooding. She adds though, that in the lower part of the city, it is very different. She really likes the people there. She tells us they might casually arrive at an appointment arranged days before and say to you:- "Are you flexible? See you in a few hours, there is an impromptu party with lots of musicians and I would not miss it for the world. Even better! Come with us, it will be great ... "That, she has never seen even in Taos which is rather unconventional. We talk photos with Robbie. We leave and we promise to meetagain.While I prepare a lunch of sorts, Carolyn calls on "my" mobile (loan from my neighbor Liz), I invite her for lunch. And here we are, deep in one of our passionate discussions about human relations, life, our lives, photographs, writing, what happens when a piece she wrote is played. It is extraordinary also, she tells me, when I go on stage (she acts in some of her plays) it is like an act of love when suddenly I go out in public nearby. And I perform my life, that life which I have incorporated into my play and, she adds, it's so intense, like pleasure! In fact, perhaps that is why I have lived alone for 20 years. I find this a total commitment.I write emails, I read, it seems like a Sunday. After a quick dinner, near the stove in my big old pink armchair, I open the computer, select photos and begin to write.