Year 11/28

I'm so confused. Part of the family is gathering at our aunt's house. As a child, there's nothing better than running around in a small space with your cousins. Running between the legs of the grown-ups until someone falls down, cries and gets told off by all the aunts and mum, and you have to sit quietly in the living room. There, the most boring thing a child has to endure is playing: the continuous recording of the last wedding. I am confused because I understand something for the first time. What's on television isn't just on television. How does it work that where I was just a moment ago is suddenly in there? There I am! Who did that and, more importantly, how did they do it? I conclude that my uncle is running around with a device that my father uses to take pictures of me in a different form. A groundbreaking discovery by an 11-year-old that needs to be tested: at the next henna evening, which took place at our house, I grab the camera from my uncle and run around with it; I want to test whether I can now see this exact moment of myself on television again. Incidentally, I am still looking for this recording today. At every wedding (and there were many at the time), I try to analyse whether my theory is correct and whether this device is the television.