Photographs tell deep truths. They speak [metaphor] to us intimately. They can portray an expression or a gesture, a story or a moment that strikes within a core of feeling and/or thinking. We say to ourselves, "Yes, I know." "Yes, I've been there." "Yes, I get it." Or we just nod (or shake) our heads. A portrait has so much power that it can even elicit from sitters something newly learned about themselves. "I never saw myself quite that way, but it's so true, so me." Photo as revelation . . . to subject, to photographer, to viewer. And they lie. They don't quite accurately represent reality.* [By reality, I just mean what the photo is of, what the light was striking when the shutter clicked. Reality might be all in our heads, might be out there, might be fixed and immutable, might be ever-changing. It might even be a myth; there may be no such thing.] Sometimes they are downright fakes, in a perfectly good way. *This is on a continuum, some do much more than others. Forensic, photojournalistic, and documentary, among other types of photographs, would want to lie as little as possible, though any of these are capable of lying, and not in a value-neutral way. I have created some portraits out of whole cloth. My subject and I have created a look, a persona, set up a situation. Lighting can be providing the expression that seems to be coming from the subject. Color can be the gesture that gets interpreted as the subject's. Blur can give what the subject did not. Still, in these photos, there is often something genuine coming from the sitter. But that genuineness can be set up to portray something different than what it was like at the time. This is the wonderfulness of artificiality in making photographs. This is expressing not necessarily what would accurately reflect the moment of capture, but what will become the expression of the photograph. This is not the freezing of a memory. It is the creation of a future. In this way, the photograph may rely on its seeming (often considered illusion as opposed to reality in the history of Western philosophy) more than on what was. So, you get a truth, but not necessarily a truth that took place when the photo was shot. Sure, on the surface, the camera captured what was there. But, more deeply, it did not. If you're good and so inclined, it captured what was not there. That negation, that nothingness, can be a more significant truth.