Tired of queuing for my own hackneyed (over-eyed?) concept I take to the streets of Freiburg in search of a virgin-image, The Woman in White. I want her to marry a ‘dead man’.
He must be dead by now, the old white-haired, white-suited, white-socked, white-shoed, darkly suntanned (Ronsealed?) pipe-puffer I snapped on these very same streets, back in 1985.
A joining of two parts – kinship; ‘With this camera, I now pronounce you…’ To preside over this mirage of a marriage (the word mirage comes from the Latin mirare, meaning “to look at, to wonder at”) like The Priest of Lightness... or The Priest of Likeness, even.
