Fifty Days of Solitude

Grumbach writes:

At moments when I went through the ordinary acts of daily life, I. . .imagined the presence of a camera. . .that followed me everywhere. I had an eerie sense of having been dichotomized, myself split into two, one acting, the other watching and recording for some higher purpose. But what? To make sure I was doing normal things? What I was supposed to be doing? I wondered if we were all always observing ourselves, even as we slept? Or did it happen only when we were alone, or most often in the late years of our lives when we had grown fearful of diminishment? When we were young we knew what we were doing , but now, did we need a witness to record any deviation from our youthful selves? I had no answers. I knew only that when I raised the shades in the bedroom each morning, the camera was there, watching to see if I succeeded in making them exactly level, if my eye was still accurate, my hand steady, my memory firm. . .the camera was the second person singular, judge, censor, arbiter, and critic.

For information about her work and her life:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doris_Grumbach