I take too many photos. Or rather, and this is worse, of all the ones I take, I keep too many. It's obvious to me every time I sort through the images I have to show you - week after week I tend to keep more and more in spite of myself. The first series were twenty photos long, the new ones tend towards forty/fifty. Admittedly, the duration of my expeditions has also lengthened considerably - from the two/three hours of the early days to around six or seven hours. And yet there's this constant feeling that keeping so many photos is wrong, that it's a lack of self-criticism, that I can't bring myself to throw away images. Mainly, because it makes me feel empty. I'm very attached to memories and I'm constantly trying to have as many photos around me as possible. When I delete a picture, it's as if I've suddenly deleted a piece of that afternoon. If there are no photos of when I got lost in the woods by the lake, then what's the point? It's not enough for me to live life, I have to keep traces and proof of it, otherwise it gets in the way. So I keep too many photos. It's been a while since I've been to this lake. Not so long ago, it was a wild lake where people used to swim, but nobody was held responsible for the quality of the water. I used to take our dog there, and since he's a Golden Retriever (water dog), it was a bit of paradise for him. Since then, the place has been converted by the regional council: you can't swim there any more, there are cars patrolling to check it out, and when you go round the lake, once you get to the end they've put up a barrier, just for fun. As a result, you can't go round the lake unless you retrace your steps. Thanks to the regional council.