Back in the sixties, living in a share house, I wrote in pencil on the white-painted wall of my room:
Life consists of farts
and other things
And I thought it was very witty. True, in a sort of way. Years later, my cousin Peter reminded me of me writing that. So, it has gone into legend, into history, I thought.
My phone is my camera and it sometimes takes photos on its own, just because. These pics I call “Inadvertent photos”, and the one above is one of those. What I like about it is that it escapes the definition selfie – why? Because I didn’t take it. And I like that the empty space = and other things. The undefined, the silence.
Also, I like the eye – gazing quietly out, just inside the frame.