The Glass Between Us

I keep a small, silver-backed hand mirror in my drawer, its surface clouded by a fine web of scratches that catch the light in ways the clear glass never could. It belonged to a grandmother I never knew, and I often wonder whose face she was searching for when she looked into it—was she checking the set of her hair, or was she trying to find the girl she had been before the years took their toll? Mirrors are strange, heavy things. They promise us a reflection, but they only ever offer a ghost of the present, a silent witness to the slow erosion of our own features. We stare into them hoping to catch a glimpse of the soul, yet we are met only with the surface, a boundary between who we are and who we are becoming. Is it possible that the secrets we keep are not hidden in our hearts, but trapped behind the silver, waiting for someone else to look back at us?

Samira Rahmati has captured this quiet weight in her beautiful image titled The Secret of the Mirror. It reminds me that we are all just looking for ourselves in the reflection of the world. Does this image make you feel like you are being watched, or that you are the one doing the watching?