Pictures

So I want to talk more about pictures and being in them and making them. I've always appreciated photography but never had a desire to learn to use a camera or be a model. I never remember to bring a camera anywhere. If it wasn't for my husband I don't think we'd have any pictures of our son. In my house Christmas and Easter were on the same role of film.

Growing up I had two real "model" references. When I was four or five my parents acquired a large stack of back issues of National Geographic. I would sit for hours looking at pictures of far away places--travel and archeology interested me a lot. I also looked at a lot of half-clothed aboriginal type women. That made a huge impression on me. They adorned their bodies with feathers and beads, they had tattoos and body piercings. Some had long dusty dreadlocks and others had deep black angular haircuts sculpted with sharp blades of grass. Sinewy, powerful and yet with soft bellies and voluptuous breasts. I saw a hardness in their expressions. I don't know if they where just tired from hard physical labor or perhaps they didn't feel the pressure of "posing" for their picture like in western culture. At any rate, I know I studied them very intently and openly but I don't remember either of my parents saying anything at all to me about them.

Then in my teen years  I had a subscription to Sassy--not Seventeen. Sassy was Seventeen for geeky early 90's grunge chicks--right up my alley. I also every now and then got my hands on a back issue of Harper's Bizarre which was totally awesome because it was so high fashion and artsy and adult and none of the other girls ever even heard of it.

Somewhere between the two references "model" became a static image about selling clothing or make up and less about conveying an idea or an emotion or a human experience. And of course, once my brain decided that that was what is was about, the idea of posing for a picture became intimidating. Something to measure myself against. And as such, it wasn't art to me. It was advertisement. So I never developed a desire, until recently, to explore it as narrative or whatever.

Alllll that being said, I was really excited to have my pictures taken with Tom (check my previous post about him). I was curious to see what I looked like and where I felt I fit, if I did, on some spectrum in my head. Of course there are tons of candid pictures of me and obviously I know what I think I look like in my daily life but this was going to be an opportunity to see myself through a different lens--yeah obvious remark, get over it. As mentioned earlier, I was pleased by the experience and the results.

One of the most satisfying outcomes was that Tom was open to doing some nudes---which wasn't really discussed as part of our plan. Yeah. In retrospect, springing nudity on even the most professional person is probably a bit of a no-no on my part. However when I brought it up pretty late in the day, he was totally cool and obliging. So why? Because I am feeling this kind of intense need to forge my own way through the last bit of post baby body image stuff, because I just wanted to see what it would look like, because I thought it may be a nice thing to do for my husband, because it felt right. Maybe that sounds completely over the top vain or whatever but it comes from a  place of total honesty in myself. I wanted to see if what's reflected in the bathroom mirror is the whole story or if there is a possibility of more.

 I am seated in the photo. The light/shadow make these beautiful shapes and indentations around my collar bones and my shoulders. My skin looks flawless. Editing? Perhaps. I have mom boobs. They don't land on my chest in the same place they did five years ago. Proof positive. Yes, indeed those are my boobs. If you look closely, the way I am sitting causes the bottom of my belly to slightly touch the top of my thighs. Another confirmation. I've got a little pot belly. It's right there in the picture. Interestingly, though, it kinda reminds me of the aboriginal women. And I like that. I feel a kinship with them now.

So I guess I am a "full frontal mom" now. Like, officially. Not something I had expected to happen at the start of this project but something I am none the less proud of. Picture making is a new goal. I want to do stuff with pictures. Like tell stories with them and stuff. Naked or not. I'm not sure that I'm any good at it and I have a lot to learn but that's what this is all about anyway, right? Right.

I am a little blue, though. A little lonesome. Other people have a local scene or are part of a troupe or network of performers. I'm just kind of here. I have to find where and with whom I fit--if I do at all. It would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of or make stuff with or something. I don't have a tennis partner. If I am going to move forward at all I need a new goal--like getting into another show or something. Because now I'm antsy. Again, not a popular topic at playgroup.

So I could go on and tell all four of you about my husband's reaction to the whole thing but I'll give your eyes a rest for now. Until next time.