It should be obvious at this point that for me, one source for "Clandestine Acts of Joy" is the art of political effigy. While the Thatcher puppet is more creepy than interesting, I still felt that it fit the theme. What I love about these photos is that with a single image they contain a spectrum of emotion and recall years of history and politics, creating a context for themselves in the way that even good photography cannot. There is by necessity a point of view and cultural basis for relevance to these photos, and they may interpreted in a thousand different ways, but never impartially. It's beautiful.

However, the above comment comes more as a segue. For it is here that I will discuss another source, or potential source, of joy. How does one know that they're in love? What's the signal that says "this person is the one"? I will not be swerving this space into a teenage romance novel, but may in the near future intersperse photos and articles that touch a chord with me as I grapple with that issue.