After graduating from college, I lived for a while at my parents' house. My mother's mother lived with us. I worked part-time delivering fruit and vegetables to restaurants while starting a freelance photography business. I was always taking pictures, testing different films, honing my craft. Many times, my subject was Grandma. I kept showing her my latest image of her, but she was not impressed. Often, she didn't even need words to express her distaste. Finally, one day, I showed her this one. Her response, in her spare form of speech determined by wisdom and flavored with an Old World accent, was: "That's a good one."