I talk to Steve about seeing the Mona Lisa behind bulletproof glass in Paris. I think of groups of tourists in sweat pants armed with cameras crowding around the bulletproof glass violently shoving each other out of the way for a better view. After a while, I ask Steve if he is doing okay, he says yes, he’s freezing, but he’s committed. I’m now thinking about the background landscape of the Mona Lisa. I’m recalling how obscure it is with that curvy switchback path leading nowhere specific. I’ve always loved that dirty diluted path and now I can’t stop thinking about it as some kind of specific, mysterious place holder. A paper coaster for a cold beer. Maybe it doesn’t even exist, but I think it’s there. I’m laughing out loud with Steve as he sees me scoop out the neck of the”Mona Lewisa” blouse. The painting unexpectedly rounds third base and I’m reveling in how this interaction has somehow bended “Caricature 2.” Switchback paths.