Note for photograph:
Self-portrait as pittura infamante, taken to capture the essence of growing older and ultimately dying in a small town where the concept of anonymity is that much less a given than in a larger city; and where even absent your name you may still be recognised as e.g. “that mad woman who talks to herself” or “the limping old man with the black hair”; and where over time the diminishment of, respectively, your hold on sanity or your already limited mobility may be remarked upon by those who will eventually one day struggle to recall just how many days have passed since they even last actually saw you.
