[Isaac sighed deeply, standing back to rub his eyes wearily as he watched Kirk observe the painting. It was obvious that he was taking the scene apart piece by piece, trying to come up with something that made a little more sense than the fact that it was a prophecy on canvas.]

"I can't choose what I paint. I don't have that much control over it. I never have. I'm sure I've painted other people on the barge, but I just happened to recognize you."

[He paused to cross his arms over his chest, turning a critical eye to Kirk.]

"You don't have to believe me, you know. I'm used to that, but I'm not a liar."