Must have been about four years ago that some inner-cranial switch flipped and I started seeing the faces. Caricatures capering in swirly 70's bathroom linoleum. A pencil sketch in accumulated dog hair. Nixon in the noodles. And of course the steady march of expressions that sneak into my photos.

It's probably Bob Salitsky's fault (we worked together at VCNT). Bob's algorithm helped launch a zillion stereograms.

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