A beautiful woman, a beautiful face. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but it's more in the mind. Men can fix their cars, they can run and rule the world. Yet a certain glance or stare can displace any man's thoughts, be him powerful or not. I am not alone. But I am alone in dealing with it. A woman's face or figure can rest and dwell in my mind—for what reason I do not know. I find I'm angry if a chance is missed to view or talk with one. And I'm usually disappointed with what was said or done. Probably mostly because I don't know what I'm hoping for. What am I to do with a pretty face I see? Paintings and fantasies are all that I can do. But neither one do very much, until I find someone new.