The world is filled with accidental pinhole cameras cracks in doorways holes in fences points where light is channeled, flipped, and abused to confuse our secrets with our proclamations.
We live in these pictures illuminated by undetected images. Entire other lives developing, shining around our corners, the light I use to read your mood. A life reflected in the glass of my prized new photograph; a distant love smiling hot on a beach, hung by her new lover, eager to please, to be viewed on quiet evenings– over a disinterested shoulder.
This mesh of accidental cameras, visible but unseen, populates our shadows with silent dramas, comedies and tragedies– and leaks our unwitting, if momentary, broadcasts. The muted colors of the souls of strangers dance on our bedroom walls each of us confident of our privacy which is preserved only through obscurity and lack of desire until even these are exhausted.