Samesies finds photos taken by different people of the same thing. The collection is stunning, and reconfirms my faith that we are all sort of living the same lives. I think of Virginia Woolf’s The Waves, an account of one beach scene told by multiple characters, told over and over again, segmented by decades. It’s told in that murky VW way — and I suppose arguments and interpretations are possible — but I think the point is time, despite its grave capacity to shepherd one towards death, does not exist. And light behaves without prejudice, which is a start.