There’s something eerie about those empty eyes …
Masks such as this are common souvenirs from Venice. I bought this one in 1991 and it has travelled with me on my various moves between hemispheres ever since. I wish I could read music, because I’d like to know if the notations along the top are real music or just decoration.
We all have eyes; we all see. Yet what we see is filtered by our minds, our experiences, our expectations. Sometimes, a reflected vision offers a new way of seeing. A world is on offer; go see it.
Venice, Italy: Possibly my favourite ‘Reflections’ photo. I love the arched stairs and balustrade of the bridge behind me reflected in the window, the enigmatic stare of the largest mask, and the way the ones along the bottom seem to be gossiping among themselves.
Zahara de los Atunes, Spain: Sunset reflected in a copper urn (me, too, if you look closely!).
San Luis de Potosi, Mexico: Sunrise in the window of my hotel room.
The Entrance, Australia: An infinity of bridge pylons at dusk — and one duck.
Bondi Beach, Australia: Winter sunset reflected in the sand at low tide.
Vejer de la Frontera, Spain: White stucco walls reflected in the window of a shop selling fans.
Adelaide Botanic Gardens, Australia: The gardens reflected in the sculpture, and the sculpture reflected in the pond.
An overland journey from Brazil to Equador, somewhere in Bolivia: Our driver and tour guide, reflected in the rear view mirror of the truck (“No es un bus! Es un camion!”) just before she drove across the railway bridge.
