… yet always in the same place.
Chalk it up to my fascination with reflections and distortions, but what a nice metaphor for one’s past: glories and shame, bon mots and faux pas, one and all, a presence in your rear view mirrors, always closer than it seems.
Photo by Roman.
Now that is one incredible reflection!
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Brutalist building monk: “I bow to your petrochemical nature.”
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