There is a Game I play with Mirrors

The title is adapted from the first line of the poem ‘Looking Glass’ by R.S. Thomas.  His mirror is singular - mine multiple and determined to catch me unawares despite my attempts to outwit.

My childhood was danced to the theme of my mother’s beauty and the unspoken corollary to this (my having arrived uninvited) was that I could only exist as her polarity.  Lest I should forget my insignificance, any primping and preening on my part resulted in an avalanche of scorn and disgust at my small-minded vanities.  

Now in my mid seventies I still cannot look at myself in a mirror with another present, though ironically I increasingly find I am sharing my reflected self very publicly on canvas.