Before I left for Paris, a wonderful mentor in my life loaned me a book of photographs by Francesca Woodman. Much of the book consists of self portraits Woodman composed and photographed herself. The artwork she produced is chilling and layered and deep and human. Although Woodman took her own life at a very young age, she remains, even now, embedded in her photographs, pronounced in her photographs, crafted into her photographs.What are your thoughts on self-portraits? Are they arrogant? Self involved? A means of going deeper in to the complexity of your artwork? A way to sew yourself -- to physically manifest yourself --  into the stitches of your creation? I'm undecided, but I couldn't leave Paris without an attempt at documenting the feeling of the city and the new woman I was becoming.