Shadowing

Last night I was shadowing somebody else. Please don’t, don’t get yourself bothered by a more profound meaning of my recent act than I have requested from your imagination and read patiently forward. I was simply a shadow of another person, doing the same things as the person who’s shadow I was  that evening.  Whatching closely everything she does, without having any vicious intentions. Because that’s what a real shadow does, isn’t it,  being merely an apprentice. This was my first duty as a volunteer for an art center, shadowing somebody else. Not a very clear mission to begin with, but at least I had the chance to watch Persepolis the second time, though yesterday I watched it far away from my “main island”. Persepolis, a film which has captured my own anxiety and horrors in the most  natural and charming way, as it may have certainly captured yours. I’ve watched it on a foreingn land as a shadow volunteer, but this is, I belive, nothing but the initial stage from which I will blossom and leave the shadow behind. Nothing new for me, I dare  say,  since I have been through this process all my life, always struggling to surpass this “shadow” situation. Isn’t that good news, you may think? If I wouldn’t feel the need to start the process all over again when I become to be noticed too much, and wish to retun to be a shadow, you would probably be right.