A poem begins with a lump in the throat.
34. In truth, “my body” indicates a possession, not a property. In other words, an approproation without legitimation. I posess my body, I treat it as I wish, I exercise a “jus uti et abutendi” over it. It, however, in its own turn, possesses me: it pulls or holds me back, offends me, stops me, pushes me, pushes me away. We’re both possessed, a pair of demonic dancers.
Jean-Luc Nancy - “Fifty-eight Indices on the Body” from “Corpus”
One works without thinking how to work
In front of the lens, I am at the same time: the one I think I am, the one I want others to think I am, the one the photographer thinks I am, and the one he makes use of to exhibit his art.
Roland Barthes - La Chambre claire. Note sur la photographie