Day 1246, draft.

Day 1246-1.jpg

Looking on your own






We humans are good at recognizing faces. We often recognize a face by just an outline, a shadow or on a blurry picture. We recognize ourselves in almost the same way, we know who we are, looking from the outside at the outside.

There is a big difference between recognizing an other and yourself I think. If I see a shape of someone that I know I immediately have some kind of synopsis available with all there trades, our shared history and everything else worth remembering. We have a (one sided) judgment ready when we meet people we know, and we have a lot of drafts ready to grab when we meet people we don’t know.

But when I look in the mirror, I realize that, that is the only time when meeting someone, myself, that I am honest. I have no “synopsis” or “judgment”, at most a poorly written draft of who that is, in the mirror.

Day 1244, the past.

Day 1244-1.jpg

The grain of wood

slowly build

up in time

holds the light


closes in

the past


I think when I was around the age of sixteen I was the most authentic. Uninhibited by to much past to cloud the day and future. Slowly we start putting up roadblocks and collect bricks to make walls, so we can corner ourselves in.

Me, the person that sits in the corner of his own made brick wall is the authentic me, if the authentic me is the sum of all my experiences up till now. But why are all of my best memories, the music, cars, vacations and kisses from the time I was around sixteen? When the summers lasted forever.


Curious how I made this picture? Go to my other site where I log my photographic adventures.

Day 1229, I squint.

Day 1229.jpg

I hold

a glass

filled with tears


I squint


my memories

in soft


and see

a lamp


at my grandma’s



my past

the source


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