How many paths are opened in the first shot of a so-called movie? How many meanings to be unearthed? Does it already have a theme? A character? A story? What is specified, and what possibilities remain in what is not?

Where I come from, the point of making art is to find out. If I were to nail down where I'm going in advance with some agenda, the potential in that first moment — in every moment — would collapse into a narrow means to a preconfigured end. It's unfathomable, to my mind. Why strike off in search of a thing, the nature and location of which you've always known?

A first shot is all the method I need. I've long lost count of the worlds I've pondered, and still there awaits, behind every thought or image, a corridor of the mind with no other entrance, and with an exit where there has never been before.

I need to find that exit, and I'd like to take you with me. You live on this planet: presumably, you have taken photos in its general vicinity. They're probably just a click away. Got a great opening shot for a film? Show me. I may write a script that begins with the situation in your photograph, and then release it freely back into the Public Domain!