That's one tentative smile. The kind you make when your new hairstyle is bringing more to the table than you are. It's bold and snappy and I'm clearly not feeling that way.I look forward to growing my hair out quickly so I can yet again retreat behind it...which will take about 2 damn years.
I took selfies before they were called selfies (I swear). Now, taking shots of yourself is just another grating aspect of our vapid culture. Yet I still take them. The process is enlightening, comforting. Then sometimes its not. Most of the photos suck and as I get older, a higher percentage suck...I wish that wasn't the case. I wish I didn't feel that way.
Since I can't afford a shrink, my photos serve to show me how I'm doing (because photos can't lie and all). It's amazing how much your subconscious imprints on every image you take. How your face reveals all these "tells." Once viewed at a distance, messages become more clear. A visual diary of your subconscious.
I want to rock middle age like my haircut. But the fire inside is quiet and small. Maybe its alright for a haircut to do the work for me. An outside in job. I hope so.
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