itourist?

For whatever reason, photographs rarely move me. Here are two exceptions:

Willy Georg, a Wehrmacht conscript, spent a day during the summer of 1941 photographing the inhabitants of the Warsaw ghetto. Georg’s images form a collection of candid documentary snapshots and street portraits. One of the portraits features a young man, probably in his late teens, dressed in rags. His head slightly bowed, he is looking directly into the camera. He bears all the visual hallmarks of a street beggar. On the following page there is another image of the same young man, this time lying on a pavement next to a begging bowl. What strikes me in particular about these images is the fact that the young man in them looks just like me when I was his age.

I met Mickey Mouse in Paris.