He had gone to the West side of the city to re-photograph a building he fell upon a few days earlier. He then walked along the neighbourhood. There was something pleasing in the air. Everything seemed to be moving strangely, in slow motion, and the few people he met appeared like actors warming up for their role. Further along he came across this social-housing block whose model was repeated along the street. He felt touched by an idea that had incongruously nested in his thoughts, of a community of elderly people striving to protect its fragile existence. He had no idea why this came to mind.
I keep a certain distance from the image. It does not invite me to participate in the dynamic of the place. I know I will simply continue my walk after this short pause. And yet, the image has the effect of a mirror. My presence is doubled. I am myself, and the mark of myself. I am momentarily transported into the virtual of myself, with its own possibilities, its own space and events, its own reality. I become conscious of all the possible selves within me.