I want to hold up mirrors.
Dozens of them.
Mirrors of my mind.
Mirrors that reflect different realities.
Mirrors that reflect reality differently:
Acting. Advertising. Photography.
Writing: Fiction/Fact.
Mirrors before the camera.
And behind it.
Mirrors facing me/away.
Mirrors in one’s hand/head/heart.
Essential to every one of them is light:
The light of creativity.
Refracted through me.
Man makes epic goof up when he cannot convey to his family that his father is well and out of danger, all because he is chewing tobacco and cannot speak clearly.