It struck me leaving the school today around 5:30pm, that after writing that last post before class I should then immediately seize upon my idea of taking photos based upon a miniscule theme, lest it begins to sound stupid. So having only a fleeting 30 minutes before the sun had completely sank behind the buildings and past the buildings sinking further beyond the Fragrant Mountains to the west, I chose "glare." 
And as I struggled to find anything that glared with the setting sun I confronted my first technical obstacle: I approached the object soon the glare would vanish.
A fool chasing papers in the wind. Of course glare, like a mirrage, is a function of ones vantage point and there's a moment where you cross a delicate line between it existing and not.
In the course of finding any "piece of" (?) glare and then holding my camera up to it, some of which were rather uninteresting structures, I became the subject of some stares and laughs. Though this isn't unusual. 
The sun nearly sunk, still walking home, and still determined to locate glare, I began to see small glints of the sun in far off, un-photographicable distances: off the back windows of busses, here and there off the windows of large buildings, off the helmets of passing motorcyclists. The smallest, tinest glare soon popped out at me amid the rather dull grey city boulevard at dusk. The first seemingly obvious conclusion of my experiment: if one does not look for it, one does not see it. 
This is essentially a beginners photography assignment, but no matter. As I was taking the photographs the process was not about the picture, but about the hunt. And as it turns out, now that I look at these photographs, they are of structures I pass everyday, objects never begging to be photographed. 
There is no great way to capture the smallest thrill admist the rather mundane sights along my route to school, but still, they exist. People walk down the street and we look at the world. We don't neccessarily judge it, "this is a boring walk." Something, anything must capture our attention else we'd make ourselves miserable all the way home: a frayed wire on the ground, the way the person in front of you walks, the people behind the glass in the restaurant, a piece of garbages' 1 minute of fame. Its like how collecting pennies makes pennies special. So here is a collection of pictures of glare. What does it say? But then again, if we labored over every insignificant object that had held our attention for the merest of moment, we'd be more pathological than we already are. Or maybe we'd be a slower, gentler animal. who can know? 
