With Surveillance: Warsaw, daily life felt quite uncertain. I was living in a rented room in a Communist-style building in Warsaw, with a ghost of a roommate. I only heard his shuffling footsteps as he departed for work early in the morning. He was sure to be ensconced in his room before I returned at night. The door had three locks and a peephole. My apartment, the stairs, and the hallway showed no signs of the cultural changes taking place. Feelings of imagined oppression began to hang heavily. I addressed this by photographing the comings and goings on my hall, through the peephole. I began to anticipate, and wonder about, the familiarity of habits, fixing a door, the mystery of the suitcase. My goal became to capture an image of the small dogs. All of this took place without the knowledge of my subjects. They were under surveillance.