self portrait #41 (black and white)

if I squint hard enough, I can barely see the deep circles under my eyes. the dirty strands of hair disappear and all I see is me and that strawberry ice cream cone. we got caught in the rain that day-- me, ava and ezra. we'd been to the book store and got caught in a sudden downpour. we ducked into the nearest shop to keep dry, which just happened to be an ice cream parlor. we were bored, so we started to play with the camera. we took photos of each other, of the floor, of our ice cream, a speck of paint on the table, wadded-up napkins, our feet, the rain outside. in that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing anything else.

that's a good and solid sort of memory. but I'll tell you-- when I look at this particular photograph of myself for too long, something strange starts to happen. like when you've said the same word out loud too many times and it begins to sound completely foreign to you. like a word that belongs to an entirely different language. which is not so much a bad thing-- just disconcerting. it's as if I am barely recognizable here. again, the deep circles become more prominent, the texture of my skin, the shape of my face, my nose, the hair pulled back tight (save for a few dirty strands). I start to think about how boys in junior high used to call me cow eyes. I feel like I am looking at a creature from a different planet. I feel like I'm looking at someone I don't really know.

which is all just a little too existential for a wednesday morning.


(the self portrait challenge for february is black and white-- more to see here)