Working at the scene of the action, I have adopted Robert Capa's saying: 'If your photographs aren't good enough, you're not close enough.' But in retrospect I add a corollary: if you're too close to events, you lose perspective.

In 1966, while working on a feature about a Picasso exhibition at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, I recorded the pre-opening preparations and observed a moment: One of the cleaners stopped, puzzled, in front of the Picassos. I think that this is an image that can be universally understood, but with a grain of salt. I never chose this image in edits before because it seemed to me that it felt posed-the composition was a little too perfect. But, believe me, it was a lucky moment.

Working at the scene of the action, I have adopted Robert Capa's saying: 'If your photographs aren't good enough, you're not close enough.' But in retrospect I add a corollary: if you're too close to events, you lose perspective.

If you're too close to events, you lose perspective. It is not easy to be fair with the facts and keep your own convictions out of the picture. It is almost impossible to be both a participant in the events and their observer, witness, interpreter.

Jerusalem - a divided city, where demonstrations for and against various issues occur regularly. One day, during an Orthodox demonstration against autopsies, I happened to click a few frames while a young man pushed his hamsa (spread hand) into my camera, which is seen by some as 'the evil eye.' As it happened, it was the tail end of my roll of film and the image is actually a double exposure. This taught me that in spite of your careful framing, chance occurrences create the most interesting images.