What did people do before the invention of photography? / This puzzling reflection of myself – mirroring a moment in my life, me, watching. One can see how I see what is to be seen. One can see that I see how one sees that I see – reflections of reflections! / A process that can make you dizzy / ...but I know my life is reproduced here in a peculiar way. / Monstrous! My shadow? My shadow! The sun warms the nape of my neck. It’s pleasant, a small narcissistic pleasure: I recognize myself in my surroundings, I am visible and alter the landscape. And what enhances the pleasure in winter is that my shadow’s often larger than life, larger than I am, several meters long, immense... which feels good with the sun at my back. And calls to mind the children’s game of stepping on each other’s shadows: “You’re dead!” we’d cry. “Dead!” I’m not dead, my shadow lies unscathed right there on the floor. / ... I contemplate my face and body dissolving in the mirror. Dissolving is frightening, reminds me of death. Good resolution is helpful in photography. / Though a photograph never shows anything other than that somebody was watching – and consequently not taking part. Photography always shows only a watching, a look at something. It never shows a thing itself, only a glance cast at that thing. / The photographer stands on the sidelines. He doesn’t do anything, he waits for something to happen. / I’m ridiculous. As are the others. Which is comforting. / A puddle is a chance to take my narcissism to extremes. / After all, you always have an urge to put yourself in the picture in just the right light. / I took a picture of myself without permission. /