There is a photograph by Kertesz (1921) which shows a blind gypsy violinist being led by a boy; now what I see, by means of this 'thinking eye' which makes me add something to the photograph, is the dirt road; its texture gives me the certainty of being in Central Europe; I perceive the referent [...] I recognize with my whoe body, the straggling villages I passed through on my long-ago travels in Hungary and Rumania.