anatomy of a picture

I love this picture.

I love that some of my favorite people in the world are in this picture, enjoying a beautiful Friday evening at a rooftop bar on 32nd Street.

I love that it catches Nick in such animated conversation with Emre and, just barely, with Dave. I love Nick's hand gesture, shaping in front of him, in the space between them, the story that he's telling. I love Emre's amused little smile, and I love that hand looming in from the right, Dave's hand, the hand that seems about to touch us.

I love how these three draw us deeper into the picture, framing Dan and Nathan who are also caught in conversation (a quieter conversation, less animated and more still). There is a comfortableness between these two that comes out of years of friendship and affection, Dan listening intently to what ever it is Nathan is saying, their heads tilted in toward each other.

I love the pink of Emre's drink (campari & seltzer?), and the salty remnants of Nick's margarita.

I love that Dan actually likes this picture of himself, when he hates most pictures of himself.

I love the multiple layers of this picture, the hand drawing us in to Emre, whose glance leads us back to Nick, whose gesture pulls us further in to Nathan, who is engaging with Dan, who sits at rest, and all of this caught up against what looks like a white picket fence, but fourteen stories up from the street, Empire State Building looming to the north, in the middle of midtown, Manhattan.