I came armed with mirrors of all sizes, stuck 'em in a sandbank in the ocean, laid them under the waves, positioned them deliberately, at random, stacked 'em, racked 'em, queued 'em, pointed em, lap-topped 'em inna landscape under a nice dramatic cloud, before a mountain, next to a ship, in front of a boat, hid 'em among rocks, reflected light, clouds, objects, people, birds, skylines and a handsomely ugly dog.
I worked feverishly, like a madman under an intolerant sky, while another photographer was taking pictures of me.
Then I had a smoke and felt vacuous.
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