Because I am baffled by, and because I cannot easily contribute to witty or highbrow conversation, I minded not in the slightest being described by Anthony Powell as follows in his memoir Journals 1982-1986:
He seemed reasonably bright in that quick Slav manner, adapted to talk about anything. I spoke of the Fisher King novel, implications of writing about a photographer. Kasterine made an interesting and significant point that, as in other arts, a photographer will suddenly find he can take no more photographs, just like writer (sic) being written out.
This picture and others of mine are featured in The London Journal: Dmiti Kasterine's Portraits. It is written by David Secombe.