The doctor's comment about my retina was quite clinical: he saw it as the typical retina of a myopic person. I, on the other hand, was ecstatic looking at this image, believing I had discovered a new planet. The image of the sensor intrigued the ophthalmologist. The image of the sensor intrigued the ophthalmologist, who explained the result obtained by the existence of mirrors on the sensor's surface, by the need to decompose the light before recording it. Although listening to these explanations, my interest was elsewhere.
What was important to me was the relationship between the two images.
The picture of my retina, the part of my body dedicated to the perception of reality, is red.
The photo of the sensor of my camera is green. These two colors are complementary.
My camera and I probably do not see the world in the same way. However, we are complementary in the way we look at reality.