Sony RX1, 35mm f2 Carl Zeiss
ISO50, f/16, 1/125, raw
200W strobe on boom, over subject’s head, 60×60 soft-box
My sister and I look alike. A lot, people say. Fact is, we look as my father. Even if half of my face is clearly coming from my mother, yet I look much more like my father. And my sister.
Looking at my sister is like looking at a distorted mirror already without having her wearing beard-like make-up and wearing my clothes, but as she does I can really see how we are just two not-so different sub-products of random mixtures of our parents’ genes.
It isn’t just because she looks like a younger and slimmer myself that this picture engages me. Looking at her looking like me, I have to re-consider my whole intimate concept of identity. A concept that my studies on neurophysiology had already put in a dangerous position.
The thing with my sister seems to be that the fact that having different sexes separates us into the two most diverse human forms gave both of us that mutual uniqueness that would suddenly vanish if we were both guys. Fact is, dressed up as a younger brother she immediately communicated me a very strong sense of interconnection and, almost, physical propagation.
My sister definitely is the closest being to myself (that isn’t me) which is walking right now on the planet.