After the New York piece, I had to do S.F. Well, my friend who used to be on Vice, with his pony tail and in jeans, somehow got re-routed to beat cop. He is a really swell guy. Here he is in a melancholic gaze as he sits in front of the reflection of himself on a glass door. A soul searching, self encounter, pondering of many things. He was adopted as a boy by my friend, whom I met at the Plisner Bar. My friend was a mortician, and he would drop by my studio in S.F. there would be "someone" in the back of the hearst, parked in front, as we visited. This is his son.

-- Steve Tracy