Reflections. 05/09/06
I live in a house of mirrors. There is at least one full-length mirror in every room other than the kitchen. Mirrored closets cover an entire wall in both the front room and the bedroom. I didn't put them there, as vain as I am, I was content with one long mirror until I moved into this house.
Makes me really wonder who my landlady is. She lived in this place for 20 years and left behind: Tons of plants. A stereo and a shelf of LPs. 4 bottles of great wine. A trunkful of aerobics clothing, huge 80s style sweaters and size 3 jeans. A scale. And spare mirrors in the closet, I guess in case 7 of them weren't enough. Perhaps she had appearance-body-image issues like me. Or did she feel less alone when surrounded by her reflection? Maybe she wished to create an illusion that the house was larger than it is?
Sometimes I feel like I'm following myself around. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpse movement and turn to see who or what it is only to be confronted by my own reflection. Yesterday I watched myself exercising, dancing, reading, eating, playing with the cats. Felt almost as if I were watching the beginning of a movie where they introduce the main character by showing you scenes from their daily life.
At times the digital camera seems like an extension of the mirrors -- I'll see myself looking good in the mirror, run and get the camera, set the self-timer and check my reflection again before the shutter snaps.
