Me in the Mirror

I had been thinking about a self portrait for some time, but I did not expect it to be born, spontaneously, in a cafe. Nor did I expect the process of working on the images to feel as strange as it did. She (the woman in the images) is me, and yet not me at all. Perhaps there is a “disconnect” for many (most?) people, when they see pictures of themselves. The difference in this situation, is that I created the images, from establishing the concept and the context, to art directing the poses, to editing the final selection, and turning the “pictures” into “fine art photography”.

This is the mirror I will use to frame Me. When I enter the room, I do not know what the end result will look like.

I know this much: I want to connect with Me, I want to see something of myself in her. I know I can do this physically, but will it be more than that?
I try many poses. Many of them are imperfect. I need to get the eyes right - clear, steady, open to everything.
Extremes of light and dark are not what I want, but the camera is evident, emerging from the blackness. The angle hurts. This is the most disturbing image...the open mouth, and the eyes that see but somehow don't.

Contradictions and unanswered questions, but a compelling image of Me. The face is elegant, even though her eyes cannot be seen. I think: a portrait does not need a face to speak. I think: the explosion at her throat is violent, but she does not seem distressed. For so many reasons, this might be Me.

Me in the mirror. Everything I know I am, and some things I know I am not. Some of Me is out of reach, but then…

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